The Stormcrow, A Superhero's Tale Options

[macole]

The fight theme fits January very well. The music is progresses nicely from a period of introspection turning to hard driving clashes leading to a final forceful conclusion. Puts me on the edge of my seat.

Now that bone wright is inspiring. My first thought is to, “Run Away! Run Away!”

[WellTemperedClavier]

Totally get wanting to keep things in the realm of the real. Fictional countries can also pile up, which risks throwing the whole thing out of whack (Marvel certainly has a ton of them by now).

Part of me is wondering if the Hierophant is now sending out amulets like this to corrupt/kill people. Magic practitioners certainly aren't common, but there are enough neophytes out there that he could hurt a lot of folks this way. Xochitl was lucky that January and Blood Raven were in the area.

Alternately, he's specifically using Xochitl for some reason.

I also liked the routine between January and Blood Raven, specifically how they approached the issue. Blood Raven was much more demanding, which fits with her persona and the world she came from. January's more approachable. It's a good showcase of their respective personalities.

[Acadian]

Sorry for my tardiness. Alaskan fjords are beautiful this time of year. . . . I began reading the Mercy Thompson series of books while at sea. After Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Stormcrow, I’ve decided urban fantasy is okay.


10.1

Yup, Jan is completely and totally sooo over Hannah. . . not.

Hypnotic Voice. I really enjoyed how you developed this based on the need to ferret out the original memory of an event rather than later recollections of it. It does suit Blood Raven – despite her darker persona, both her heart and willpower render her an appropriate and responsible user of such magic. I can also identify with Stormcrow’s reluctance and her desire to shy away from manipulating others. As an illusionist, Buffy is familiar with Stormcrow’s quandary and the care required when intruding into the mind of others.


10.2

A burst of mysterious but not inherently evil magic sends the heroinic pair airborne to investigate.

Wow, looks like they arrived in the nick of time so that when the wight popped out of the bottle, it was met by something more formidable than a baby witchling. A well done fight. I really liked how Blood Raven’s blade recognized and accepted Stormcrow as blood-kin. Also, crowgirl is getting really good at calling down the awesome power of lightning.


Nit: ’But she was not stranger to pain.’ - - 'no' instead of not?

[Renee]

Hmm, this new mention of something entering their spheres of awareness, what (or who) could it be? ... The fly flies away. Hmm, something creepy about this one. Like a trap!

Whoa, they see themselves as figures drawn on paper? What the heck? Total guess here as I read, but this seems the work of a teenager. It just has ... okay, damn. I think I was right. But I was gonna say those sort of drawings of mythical beings. They just seem so high school-ish.

"Remove that amulet NOW!" This is creeping me out, Rosa! Literally just got goosebumps.

Where are this child's parents or guardians or whomever? Seems she's in the house by herself. But she also seems sort of inexperienced. There's nothing malevolent going on here, seems Xochitl did some experimenting, but got into something she didn't expect?



Edit: That's a good idea with the timeline; I imagine it keeps contradictions from occurring, and keeps the story's facts consistent. As an example, any time I reread any of my works, even if they occur over the course of a few months (like Goblin Lady) in the beginning there will be little things which don't jive with stuff, habits, manners of speaking, etc. which take place later in the story.

In a sense sometimes this bothers me, but eh.

Can you show us the Reddit thread?

[SubRosa]

macole: I have a folder filled with artwork of various monsters. Whenever I see a good one, I copy it there. I look back in that folder whenever I am creating a new magical creature for the story, and pick something that fits. In this case I saw the picture, then decided what it was, and how it worked. We will learn more of that in today's post.


WellTemperedClavier: One thing I never liked about the DC comics universe is that I just have trouble becoming invested in Central City, Metropolis, or Midway City, etc... They just do not feel real to me, because they aren't. Gotham is the only one that really works for me, because it has been in so many Batman movies and comics and books. The city has a unique character all to its own. There are even maps of it. So it feels real to me. That is why I try to avoid creating fictional countries or even cities for the Stormcrow fiction.

I am not saying I will never do it. Never say never, as Sean Connery learned about doing James Bond movies. The big reason people do it is to avoid the negative consequences that might come your way if you vilify a real country. It is why I do create fictional counterparts for a lot of the products and services in the fiction, like Instantgram, Burger Baron, or FaeCola. That and I do want to show that this is not our world, but an alternate universe.

Put a pin in your musings on the Hierophant's plans with the amulet. All will become clear in today's episode as we finally get to talk to Xochitl.

As ever, Stormcrow and Blood Raven are so fun to write, because they are a study in contrasts in so many ways. While in others they are so alike. I never have trouble wondering what either would do. They both have such forceful personalities that they just sing from the page.


Acadian: Jan is sooo, over her. Yep, forgot all about her. Totally.

The whole episode with the Hypnotic Voice was a something I wanted to do to show how magic worked in the world. It is not simply a matter of ticking the right boxes and presto, rabbit out of the hat. It has to be right for you. Jan will probably never be able to do something like the Hypnotic Voice. Just like she has not been able to do a simple Arcane Bolt spell. They just are not in her personality. Magic is not just something you do. It is who you are.

Jan is going to get quite a lot of practice with Samhain in this Book. I too really liked how I have been able to give the sword a personality of sorts, including how it reacts to various members of the family, from Julian to January. It is old, and it is powerful, and it is a force to be reckoned with.

As ever thanks for the nit. Cleaned that up.


Renee: Xochitl is an artist, and a teen. So she draws what is on her mind. That is Stormcrow, Blood Raven, pentacles, and unicorns. Of course!

We will be seeing Xochitl's parents soon enough.

The timeline saves me a lot of time when I want to refer back to past events, and get the amount of time that has gone by right. So January can think that it was only a week ago that such and such happened, or just two days, etc... I was wasting a lot of time digging through my older stories to get that stuff right. Having it all organized in one place in the timeline makes it much easier.















Since Renee asked about it, here is a link to a topic I created on Reddit asking for help naming the superheroine who would eventually become Silverlight.


The Dearg Due

Nahua

IED

She's Not There by Jennifer Finney Boylan

Transgender History by Susan Stryker



Book 10.3 - Alliance

January turned her mind from such musings. The here and now demanded attention, namely the young teen before her. Xochitl's eyes were wide as saucers, and she shook like a leaf. January looked down at her, and gently laid her hands upon the young woman's shoulders.

"Everything is going to be ok," she tried to sound as reassuring as possible. "When I pushed you down before, I was not trying to hurt you. That was to get you out of the monster's path. Keeping you safe is the most important thing for both of us."

"That... that... thing, it almost killed us," Xochitl stammered. "It was in the necklace the whole time, and I didn't even know it. It could have killed me at any time."

"Nay," Blood Raven shook her head. She gathered up the remnants of the brass amulet. It had shattered to pieces when the bone wight had burst from its bonds. The elder heroine picked through the bits of tortured metal that remained, and drew forth a single, blond hair. January did not need to shift her senses into the astral to know its source. She smelled it. It was from her brother Julian.

"This was a trap set specifically for us," Blood Raven continued. "That is why the Dearg Due came forth when Stormcrow laid her hand upon the amulet. It could only escape when our blood came into contact with it. You and this spell were simply the bait to draw us here."

"The Dearg Due?" January asked. As much as she had studied the Bestiary, that was one monster that she did not recall.

"My kin in Ireland named these creatures such," Blood Raven replied. "Some might call them vampires. But they are actually wights. They steal the blood of others, and use it to fashion a body of flesh from. This allows them to mimic the living, but only for a time. The blood always decays, and they are driven to devour more, and more. They prefer young males. But will take anyone if the opportunity arises."

"You're from Ireland?" Xochitl's voice brought January's gaze back around to the teen.

"Do my scarlet tresses not tell the tale?" Blood Raven smiled, and ran the fingers of one hand through her brilliant red mane. When Xochitl did not respond, her face turned more serious. "Please pardon the levity. It is not my forte. I was born in Boston, some time ago. But my people hail from Eire, at least on my mother's side."

"And your father?" Xochitl wondered aloud.

"The less said of him the better," Blood Raven could not contain a brief scowl.

"Denmark," January whispered, one hand held up against the side of her mouth so that Blood Raven could not see her lips move. "The same as me."

That brought a Spockian raised eyebrow from Blood Raven. But it did have the desired effect. Xochitl cracked a tiny smile, and some of the tension seemed to flow from her frame.

"And you, my young apprentice, where do your people hail from?" Blood Raven went down to one knee, so that Xochitl did not have to look up to see her.

"Mexico," she said, more readily than before. "A long time ago. My mom, she got really into genealogy after my brother was born. We go back to the Spanish colonizers, and before, to the Nahua."

January glanced about the room once more, and let her eyes dance across the books that graced a short bookshelf. There were more volumes on Mesoamerican history and culture. Likewise there were several tomes on modern Witchcraft, including one by Branwen Renner.

She also noted She's Not There, by Jennifer Finney Boylan, and Transgender History, by Susan Stryker. She even saw a hard copy of Artemis Argent and the Secret of Mystery Hill. It was one of the four-page teasers that she had printed out and bound herself by hand. She had given them out at her book signing at the Warren library. She tried to search her memory for Xochitl, but could not place her there. There had been too many people there that night for her to recall them all.

"Tell me Xochitl," Blood Raven went on. "Where did you find that amulet, and the pages from your spell?"

"It's not my fault!" she cried out. She pulled away, and looked defensively from one woman to the other. "I didn't know!"

"We do not seek to lay blame Xochitl." Blood Raven said softly. "We understand that you were a pawn in all of this. But we need to know."

"No one thinks you are a supervillain," January concurred. "But there is a real one out there. We are chasing him. That is why he did this. He put it - and you - out like an IED for us to stumble across. We need your help to find him."

"You mean the Hierophant," now Xochitl looked white. "I saw it on the news, from Jobbie Nooner. Those people died there..."

"The Hierophant killed them," Blood Raven said. "He will kill anyone who crosses him, anyone who inconveniences him. That is why we must end his reign."

"He isn't going to come after me is he?" Her eyes darted like a startled rabbit. "If he knows about me, will he come here?"

"Nay," Blood Raven shook her head. "We would smite his ruin should he be so foolhardy as to face us under open arms. Just as Stormcrow did that bone wight."

"We are going to keep you safe," January said with certainty. "That is what we do. We will always fight for you."

"Now, let us speak of the amulet," Blood Raven said gently.

"I found it yesterday," Xochitl relented. "I was out walking in the woods, by the creek, like I always do. I found both. The amulet was wrapped up around the pages, like a scroll. I don't know how no one else noticed it. It was just right there, I mean, you couldn't miss it, even in the bushes like it was."

January allowed her astral gaze to travel over the pages of the spell she had used. But they were entirely ordinary. However, something else called to her attention. It was a magical... odor. She followed it to the desk, and opened the top drawer. There she found another set of pages. These were written in Latin, in a precise script.

She brought them forth, and felt power flow around them. It was a simple spell that essentially formed a magical beacon in the astral. It was something no magician could fail to miss, while at the same time imperceptible to mundane senses. Were it not for all the previous excitement, she would have certainly noticed it sooner. As she stared at it, she realized that its power was fading. January imagined that the day previously it might have been like a spotlight. Now it was just a candle. Soon it would probably fade from existence entirely.

"I translated the Latin," Xochitl nodded to the original pages which January now handed to Blood Raven. "I took it in school last year."

"Very good, my young apprentice," Blood Raven nodded. "Did you see anyone lurking nearby? Have you sensed anyone around you lately? Anyone like us, or you? Anyone with magic?"

"I... no... I don't think so," Xochitl stammered. "I mean, I don't know how I would know. But I never saw a creepy guy in a black cleric robe, like they said on the news."

"It is as I expected." Blood Raven rose to her feet, and walked several paces away toward the stairs that led down the ground floor. January followed when she motioned her to do so. The elder heroine kept her voice low, in a tone too low for Xochitl to hear, and raised her wrist-mounted computer to her lips.

"Cray, set up drone surveillance around this place if you please, just in case. Stormcrow, I shall take these artifacts with me and see to it that they are destroyed, likewise with the remains outside. I suggest you remain here. The authorities shall require your attention, so will the child's parents."

"Maybe we should take her back to the Raven's Nest?" January murmured. She glanced back over her shoulder to where Xochitl fretted beside her bed. "She would be safer there, in case the Hierophant does come back to tie up loose ends."

"Physically, she would indeed be the safest there," Blood Raven agreed. "However, we must also consider that we would be plucking her from everything and everyone she knows, and isolating her in a strange and unknown environment. Look at her, she is frightened. My intuition tells me that her home and her family are where she belongs right now."

"In any case, the Hierophant has yet to strike in the same place twice," Blood Raven continued. "Nor is he wont to show himself in the open. I do not believe he will change his tactics. Xochitl cannot identify him, so she poses no threat to him. I suspect he will not take the risk of exposing himself just to kill her."

"But what if you're wrong?" January worried.

"Do you feel it the best course?" Blood Raven laid a warm hand upon January's shoulder. "I trust your judgment in this my friend. If you believe it to be wise, then we shall conduct her with us to the... Raven's Nest."

"You still don't like that name," January tried to force a smile to her lips.

"It is oh so dramatic," the older heroine shook her head.

"Hast thou partaken of thine visage in the looking glass of late?" January countered.

Blood Raven laughed at that, and now January did smile. She glanced back at Xochitl, who still sat on her bed. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, and stared forlornly at the salt scattered across the floor.

"I think you are right," January finally sighed. "She belongs here, with her family. But the newest Daughter of the Raven will need a teacher."

"Daughter of the Raven, or Daughter of the Crow?" Blood Raven raised an eyebrow that a Vulcan science officer would be envious of. She briefly turned her gaze to the young woman, only to look back to January.

"I don't think I'm ready for that." The mere idea felt like the weight of an ocean piled up upon her shoulders. Fighting monsters, now that was easy. Being responsible for a young person's future, well that was another matter entirely.

"You are more ready than you know my friend." Blood Raven once again laid a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Perhaps you shall see that soon enough. Until then, I will teach her. Of course I will. But while I can show her how to find her power, and perhaps even grant some small advice on how to navigate the trials of womanhood, there are some things I just can never aid her with. You know of what I speak."

"Because she is trans?" January nodded. "Yeah, I saw that in her aura as well."

"You have a perspective on this I cannot grasp," Blood Raven insisted. "I can be her teacher. But you can be her mentor, and her friend."

"You're right, you're right, as always," January nodded.

"Why do I sense reluctance on your part?" Blood Raven probed. "I should think you would be ecstatic for such a challenge?"

"It's just, a little overwhelming," January said honestly. "What if I screw up? What happens to her then?"

"Welcome to life, my apprentice," Blood Raven laughed. "We cannot spend all our time meditating in a monastery. There comes a time when we must join the world, and even fudge the bucket upon occasion."

January tried not to laugh at that.

"Fudge the what?" she smiled. "Where did you get that from?"

"The Urban Dictionary," Blood Raven replied smoothly. "Ever do I strive to not be sus."

Blood Raven turned away, and walked back to Xochitl. Once again she knelt down in front of the young woman. This time she reached into one of her belt pouches and pulled out an iron ring of interlacing Celtic knotwork. She held it up before the teen, and twisted the inner row of knots in one direction.

Sága instantly blared a warning. So too did the computer mounted within Blood Raven's own armor. January fumbled with her digital assistant to stop the alarm, and saw that the miniature computer had placed a glowing pin on her current location.

"Test affirmative," Cray's voice intoned in her ear.

Blood Raven twisted the knots back into their original configuration, and handed the ring to Xochitl.

"Take this, wear it at all times," she said. "If you are ever in danger, use it as I just did. We will come ready to fight. Do not abuse this. Use it only in times of direst need."

"Now I must take my leave," Blood Raven continued. "Many errands of great import press for my attention. But fear not, for I leave you in the care of my friend Stormcrow. You could ask for no better sister than she, my young apprentice."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Xochitl asked.

"Apprentice?" Blood Raven wondered. "Are you not? You have stepped into a much wider world today Xochitl. I would show you this world, and your power, should you so wish it."

"Me?" the poor girl practically squeaked.

"I see no other sitting here," Blood Raven insisted. "Do you think yourself not worthy? Dispel such illusions. You called us here. You have power. We all do. But will you use it?"

"Well, what say you?" Blood Raven rose to her feet when Xochitl did not answer. "Do you wish to join Stormcrow, and learn the arts of magic?"

"Yes!" Xochitl leaped to her feet, features aglow with a smile.

"A wise choice, my young apprentice," Blood Raven said. "Now I shall not be able to avail myself of you for some time. Not until the menace of the Hierophant is put paid to. But until then I have several books for you to read. When I return, we shall discuss them, and see what you have learned. Fear not if some concepts elude your grasp. Rather make note of them, and we shall examine them closer together. For those are the things my counsel shall aid you with the most."

Blood Raven reached out and took up Xochitl's phone from where it rested upon the dresser. She drew forth a USB cable from her one of her armored wrists, and connected it to the device. She tapped the screen of her wrist-mounted computer for a few moments. Then she disconnected the phone and returned it to the young woman. Afterward she took another moment to point out the new files she had downloaded to it.

Next she drew forth a small square of cloth from one of her belt pouches. She unfolded it, again and again, until I had transformed into a large sack. It was not anything sleek or modern in appearance. Rather it looked like an old canvas bag, something an adventurer might cart around in a fantasy role-playing game. She tucked both sets of the summoning ritual's pages within, along with the fragments of the broken amulet.

Then Blood Raven took the window out. She did not leap as January had, but rather floated serenely outside. January could sense rather than see her move down to the grass and begin to gather up the remains of the monster, and also place them in what appeared to be her bag of holding.

"Right," she said, "I guess that makes me the TA. The first thing on our academic calendar will be to get this place cleaned up. The police will be here soon. Don't worry, I know how to deal with them. We'll have to call your parents as well."

"Oh no, my dad is so going to kill me!" Xochitl looked nervously to the broken window.

"Leave that to me," January breathed. "The dad part, not the killing. Speaking of that, this is very important. At this point no one needs to know you were using magic. In fact the less said about that right now the better. As far as anyone else is concerned, you were just an innocent bystander when Blood Raven and I showed up and fought that monster."

"But why?" Xochitl asked. "I was in the closet up until I was seven. I didn't like it much."

"I know," January nodded. "But there is more going on here than just you living your authentic life. The Hierophant is still out there. If he simply left the amulet and pages there for any magician to find and use, then he has no idea who you are. Best we leave things that way."

"Also, some day you might want to pursue a career that involves wearing a cape," January continued as her fellow magician considered her words. "The less you tie your day to day life with a super life, the safer everyone around you is. That goes for our relationship as well. For now at least, keep it on the down low. Blood Raven and I have many enemies. Some would rather come for you than for us."

"Oh boy," Xochitl sat down had on the bed once more, and stared at the phone in her hands.

"Yeah, it's a lot to take in." January sat down beside her. "Been there, done that. But you can do it. You are not powerless. You are strong. You have agency."

"If that was true I wouldn't need to hide!" Xochitl fumed. "It's just like school. Everyone has to pretend to be 'normal' - whatever that is. If you don't fit in, the bullies attack you like piranhas."

"Honey, no amount of power is an excuse for being a fool." January replied. "I got kicked out of my first junior high school because I beat up the bullies who used to attack me. I spent the next two years going to a different school that was miles away. I didn't know anyone there. I didn't go to school with my friends again until high school. In retrospect, I might have handled that better, or at least more strategically."

"Like worn a mask when you beat them up," Xochitl fumed.

"Well yes," January considered. "Or maybe found a way to humiliate them in public without getting kicked out for fighting. Remember, there is always a price to pay for our actions, and sometimes other people pay it for us. Think about that before you act."

She rose to her feet, and glanced out the window. Down below she watched as Blood Raven tucked the last of the Dearg Due's bones away in her bag. Then she folded the sack back up into that same neat, little square that it had looked like to start with. After secluding that back into her belt, she soared away into the sky. Moments later blue and white lights flashed in the street below, as several police cars pulled to stop outside.

"The police are here." January observed. "I will go deal with them. But first, let me borrow your phone for a moment."

January picked up the device, and found the favorite for Xochitl's mother. She waited while it rang, and watched the police officers begin to gingerly step across the lawn. Their eyes raced in all directions, and hands rested nervously on holstered guns.

January took her time and climbed into the window frame. She moved slowly, so as to not startle anyone, especially anyone with a gun. She kept her wings folded up on her back, and sat there for a moment with legs dangling out into space. Then she let herself drop to the back yard a story below. She took the fall without even needing to bend her knees in the slightest. Dropping from a second story window was no different from taking an ordinary foot step for her these days.

All the while she waited while the phone rang. Finally a woman answered as the first of the cops came up.

"Hi honey, what is it?" came the other woman's voice.

"Hi, is this Xochitl's mom?" January began in her perky phone voice. She silently cursed that damn excited, pleasant tone. She was trying to be professional after all.

"I am. Who is this? Why do you have my daughter's phone?" the tone of the voice on the other end of the line changed in an instant into one of guarded concern.

"I'm Stormcrow," January said, both for her benefit, and for that of the police. "I'm here at your house. Let me start by saying your daughter is safe and unharmed. She is upstairs in her room right now. She loaned me her phone so that I could call you. Blood Raven and I had a fight with a supervillain in your house. You might want to come home."

[Acadian]

Your consistent use of Blood Raven’s anachronistic manner of speech is wonderful, as in the below examples:
"Nay," Blood Raven shook her head. "We would smite his ruin should he be so foolish as to face us under open arms. Just as Stormcrow did that bone wight."
"Nor is he wont to show himself in the open.”
And very funny when Stormcrow pokes fun at her over it:
"Hast thou partaken of thine visage in the looking glass of late?" January countered.’
And even funnier when Blood Raven later says ‘fudge the bucket’ as she tries to be ‘sus’.

A solid conversation between the women as they debate the future and attendant mentorship of their young magical and trans apprentice. Blood Raven does have the right of it however that Jan needs to dive in and not let fear of mistakes restrain her.

Blood Raven has a bag of holding! Stormcrow neeeeeeds one of those to tote her crowbike in.

"Well yes," January considered. "Or maybe found a way to humiliate them in public without getting kicked out for fighting. Remember, there is always a price to pay for our actions, and sometimes other people pay it for us. Think about that before you act."
- - Well, this is some seriously solid and appropriate mentorship. Jan is off to a great start!

Jan is getting quite expert on dealing with ‘aftermaths’. We see that as the police arrive and she talks to her new apprentice’s mom.


Nit: ’Then she disconnected the pone {phone} and returned it to the young woman.’

[Renee]

Yes, that's what I'm saying (about the timeline). You've been writing SC now since 2019 if I recall correctly! That's a lot of info to keep track of.

Thanks for the Reddit link. Hey there you are, SubRosa Florens. Quite a busy thread there, too, nice!

Today's story makes me wonder if Xochtil knew what she was doing first of all. Did she expect there'd be a result, and quite a huge one as well? Has she does this sort of thing before, you know, maybe starting with a love potion in middle school perhaps? (That's what I did when I was experimenting with wicca btw. Didn't work!)

Weird. So how did this teenager get a lock of Julian's hair? Oh I see. This was a trap, like I assumed, sort of. But how did Xochtil get the amulet in the first place?

Ha, she's got one of Raven's books. 📕 Wow, she's got a bunch of books which are pertinent. Small world.

Okay, it sounds like that amulet was definitely placed in a spot so Xochitl could find it. Which is scary enough.... it means the teen's on the Hierophant's radar, somehow.

Nice, I'm glad the teen has joined them. But where are her parents or guardians? Okay, dad is mentioned. And mom is called. Sorry, I'm starting to sound like a karen. I bet mom's gonna be freakin out though. "WHAT? Superheroines are at my house?"

[Renee]

EDIT: and here's another thing. The Hierophant does seem to have really planned this. Notice that he's picked the teenager, who just happens to have all the books of Jan and Raven, and the teenager also just happens to be messing around with magic. The Hierophant places those items knowing all of this.

In fact, it seems the Hierophant has just helped the superheroes. Not coincidence, nor is it mistake, methinks.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Yeah, I hear you on DC Cities. I'm not a big comics guy, but from the media I have seen, Gotham's the only one that seems to be written somewhat consistently. The specifics vary, but it's always a dark and dangerous place with an element of the uncanny. The rest largely seem to depend on whoever's writing it, which makes it hard for any of them to stick.

Though the Hierophant's ugly shadow looms large, it seems like his effort might have only served to give Raven another ally. Xochitl's obviously pretty inexperienced, but January and Blood Raven are probably a good balance of teachers for her.


This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Mar 31 2024, 12:37 AM

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

Haven't had the time to read all of the most recent entries here (real life has gotten busier again), but trying to make my way through. I do still have some thoughts to share if that's alright.

RE: DC Cities: I guess I never thought about it before, but I somewhat agree. If it's a fake city, it tends to be much more interesting if it's a completely fictional setting, or it is the real world but the city is in place of a real one or uses some notable aspect of one (e.g. Fallout cities and towns that have rebuilt on old foundations like Diamond City, New Vegas, and Rivet City). But with the exception of Batman, I don't care much about comics in general, so Gotham is naturally the only one of those fake comic book cities that I'm invested in.

I've always thought Xochitl was a cool name. Also some similar-sounding names from current and ancient Central-American/South-American culture as well like Quetzalcoatl or the city of Tenochtitlan.

"Bone wight" makes me think of a Bone Colossus from ESO (and in Skyrim's Anniversary Edition thanks to one of the Creation Club mods automatically added to that edition). Looks like he didn't get enough calcium if January and Blood Raven took him out.

[SubRosa]

Acadian: I had fun writing January's response to her mentor's speech patterns. And of Blood Raven's own efforts to not be Sus, but rather to be included among those whom are Based.

I came up with that bag of holding at the last minute of writing. It was during one of my edits just a few days ago in fact. It seemed the ideal solution to the problem of how she was going to cart away all this evidence.

January definitely does not feel up to becoming a teacher and mentor to a youngin'. However, as you have noted, she has absorbed quite a lot of good practices from Blood Raven, making her much more suited than she gives herself credit for. Which we shall see more of today. In fact, I am picturing Xochitl's first real magic lesson being when she meets the rest of the Daughters of the Raven, and rather than Blood Raven giving the lesson, each of her protege's giving a paragraph of it in turn. Because they have all been there before.

January has come a long way from fleeing the cops arrival at the Flint Airport, and later her nervous encounter with the cops after her battle with Archie. She's getting used to the nuts and bolts of the super life.


Renee: When I was in my late teens or so a friend of mine had gotten hold of a copy of the necronomicon. It was a paperback floating around that someone had written, as if it was the real thing from Lovecraft's stories. Naturally we cracked it open and recited the first summoning spell we could find.

"Spirits, Lords the Earth!" is about all I still remember.

Needless to say, we did not summon anything. Which is a good thing, considering that you would not want to meet anything from the necronomicon.

Xochitl was in the same boat. The spell said it was to summon an air elemental. But was she really thinking she was going to call something up? Or did it just sound like a rad thing to try? Yes.

The amulet was placed for a magician to find, any magician. January notes that the original pages of the spell have an enchantment that acts like a spotlight in the astral, sure to get the attention of any mage nearby. All they had to do was use the spell, and that in turn was sure to get the attention of Blood Raven, which it did. It did not matter who used it. Just so long as someone did. And if no one did, he is not really out anything but the small amount of time it took him to prepare it.

The Hierophant planned this in so much that he knows he is being hunted by Blood Raven. He left the spell and amulet for a neophyte mage to find and use. Which in turn would draw Blood Raven, and distract her from hunting him, maybe even harm her. Like January noted, it is the same as a magical IED left in the road by guerillas.


WellTemperedClavier: I would not call Xochitl an ally at this point. More like a responsibility. She is not going to be throwing down against Abyssals any time soon. Though give her 4 or 5 years and she might when she is an adult. I put her in because for one I wanted some early action in the story. But also to expand on the Daughters of the Raven. I introduced Calypso last Book, and then at the very start of this one Blood Raven tells us about her other proteges as well. We are going to meet them all later in this book. I wanted to give an example of how someone becomes one of these Daughters of the Raven, by having a character actually do so in front of our eyes. In this way Xochitl is a stand in for the young Calypso, Riven, Kaelin, Silverlight, etc...

You are right about that sticking point January created by inserting her civilian identity into Xochitl's life, beside her Stormcrow identity. She (and I) had no idea how she was going to navigate that. It was just the thing January would do, without thinking of the consequences. However, I think I now I have that worked out.


RaderOfTheLostArk: I wanted something Native American, specific to Mesoamerica for a name. So I did some hunting through babyname sites, as I usually do. Then I came across the actress Xochitl Gomez, and read how she pronounced it "Sochi", and I knew I had my name. And really her look.

I could not think of a good generic term for the monster in that pic that I started from. I settled on Wight because it is a generic term for a physical undead being. Then the bone part is self-explanatory. I finally tied it back to the Dearg-Due, but there was no way to put that in the text from the start, as it just was not the kind of thing January would know. It's not something from an RPG or fantasy novel, and it is not an Abyssal (whom she has been researching of late).








January's Theme - VNV Nation - Illusion



Book 10.4 - Alliance


July 8th, afternoon

January explained events to the police. Xochitl's parents arrived before she could finish. They pulled up in the same car, and spilled forth with looks of shock and apprehension that weighed upon their features. The mom wore a top that was emblazoned with colorful geometric shapes, and a dark suit jacket over that with a small Burger Baron logo on its lapel. The dad sported a polo shirt from the hamburger chain as well, along with a pair of jeans.

The mom rushed inside to find her daughter, staring at January along the way. The dad looked up at the broken window, ran his fingers through his graying hair, and sighed. Then he saw the giant burned spot on his lawn where the bone wight had died, and sighed again.

Of course January left out Xochitl's spellcasting in her recounting of the tale to both parties. She simply related that she and Blood Raven had detected the Dearg-Due nearby, chased it here, and finished it. She did include that it was a minion of the Hierophant, left in his wake as a trap for them. There was no reason to keep that a secret after all.

After seeing the police off, she returned to the interior of the house to make her farewell. She found everyone up in Xochitl's attic bedroom. Her father fought to put a sheet of plastic up over the broken window. Her mother paced the room, nearly striking her head against the sloping ceiling at each end of her circuits. Xochitl herself still looked overwhelmed, and sat on her bed with eyes downcast.

"It's all this Wicca stuff," her mother waved a hand toward the teen's small bookshelf. "It brought all of this down on us."

"It's this transgender stuff," the father murmured from the window. "Being Mexican-American is hard enough in this country. You cannot stand out. You cannot make waves. We have to fit in, and be normal, like everyone else. When they notice you are different, that is when trouble starts. You need to come work with your brother and us and learn how to run the franchise. You and him are going to own it one day, after we are gone."

"That is not what is going on here," January said plainly and distinctly. Granted, she silently acknowledged that there was something to what each of the parents had said. But neither was what Xochitl needed to hear. Her well being was all that mattered to January right now. She did not hesitate to put the teen's needs first. It was just a reflex. The same as it had been when the Dearg-Due had tried to spear her with its tail.

It was not hard for January to see the similarities that she shared with Xochitl. That could so easily be her sitting there on that bed. In her mind's eye, she flashed back to the night of her suicide attempt. She had lain there in a very similar bed. Only it had been stained red with the blood from her slashed wrists. She would do anything to spare her new sister from such a fate.

"Your daughter isn't responsible for any of this. The Hierophant is." January declared. "This was aimed at Blood Raven and I. Xochitl just had the misfortune of being caught up in the middle of it all. Sometimes it happens when the bad guys pick a fight in the middle of a city."

"Your daughter being a Wiccan, or Witch, or anything else is beside the point," January plowed on. "But if her beliefs help her understand who she is and what her place in the world should be, then I applaud her. It is hard enough to be a cis teen in this world. Being trans..., well it feels like the entire world wants to erase you."

By now Dad no longer grappled with the plastic sheeting, and Mom ceased her nervous prowling. Instead both parents fixed their full attention upon January. She looked past the two middle-aged Mexican-Americans - to Xochitl - and saw that she had lifted her face from the floor.

"It sounds like Xochitl transitioned a long time ago." January continued. "I am sure you still do not understand why it is so important to her that she do so. In my experience, cisgender people rarely seem to grasp it. But the good thing is you don't have to. You never need to understand what it is like to be born of one gender identity within the body normally associated with another. Or to reject the very concept to a set gender identity that one must adhere to. Or any of the other things people experience when it comes to bodies and gender. All you need to ever do is feel empathy, and accept that you are not the arbiter of another person's identity."

"That's easy for you to say, you..." Xochitl's mother began, then her words trailed off as she looked at January.

"I know exactly what it is like to be Xochitl," January said softly. "I do not know what it is like to be you however. I probably never will. But like I said before, I don't have to, do I? I get that your daughter being trans is difficult for everyone in your family. I get that having a magical monster crash through your window is not something you want to come home to. My old therapist would have said it was... stressful. But we can deal with stress without allowing it to overwhelm us, and still get on with our lives."

"I wish I could stay," January went on."I'm not a therapist. But I would be glad to talk this out more with you all. Right now I have to rejoin Blood Raven, and find the Hierophant before he can strike again. Once this is all over maybe we can take this up again. I'll help you all in any way I can."

With that January reached into her utility belt, and withdrew one of her Stormcrow business cards. She handed it to Xochitl's mother.

"Call me any time, and I will come," she said.

She stepped over to where Xochitl sat, and went down to one knee before the young woman. She gently took the teen's hand in her own, and looked in her eyes.

"You remember what we talked about?" January asked. When Xochitl nodded, she went on. "Good. Always remember. You have agency, you have power, you matter. Now, are you going to be alright?"

"I guess so," the young woman nodded again.

"Do not guess, know," January insisted. "We don't guess, we don't doubt. These things leave room for failure. A conjure woman who doubts, is a conjure woman who fails. Banish these words from your vocabulary. Now, what say you?"

"I know," Xochitl stated clearly. She held her head high, and her features were set with certainty.

"Excellent!" January declared. She stood up and turned to leave, then her eye caught upon Xochitl's bookshelf.

"You know, I've met the writer of this comic," January picked up the four page hardcopy teaser of Artemis Argent and the Secret of Mystery Hill that sat with Xochitl's other books. "I could put her in touch with you."

"You know January Ward?" Xochitl looked up in undisguised interest. "I got to see her in Warren recently!"

"Well, I don't exactly know her. But I met her once too, just briefly," January replied. "But I know her work. It was on my literary blog after all. I'm sure that she'd be more than glad to reach out to a fan, especially one here in the same area. She's only a few years older than you. The two of you probably have a lot in common."

"Wow, that would be great!" Xochitl looked much less worried, and clearly more at ease. This made January herself feel a lot better about finally leaving.

* * *

January flew back to the Witch House and changed. She still had miles to go, and promises to keep. In this case, it was a promise that involved her changing back into her normal clothes and riding her Victory Empulse to Avery's house. It was practically an ancient ritual - going to Avery's place - and it felt so right and natural. Yet it was one she had so rarely practiced of late. It was good to get back into this old habit.

She could not shake a feeling of guilt however, as she rode through traffic on the whisper silent electric bike. Blood Raven was still out there, following leads, interviewing people, even sneaking into houses and dorms to search them. Cray did the same, following paper trails online and sifting through camera footage.

Finally Xochitl sat in her bedroom. Close encounters with death were becoming normal for January. But for most people that was not the kind of thing that happened, ever. She hoped that the young teen would be able to deal with the shock and trauma of coming so close to being killed. She felt like she should be there. But at the same time, she knew that she could not hold the hands of everyone in the world who had ever endured suffering.

In the meantime, she was going off to have fun with her friends. This was hardly the right time for that. She had said so to Blood Raven earlier. But as always, the elder heroine had a reply.

"There will never be a right time," Blood Raven had explained. "There will always be something to distract you from living your life, should you allow it. Wear the cape, but do not let it swallow you whole, as the whale did Jonah. Live your life, be with your friends, have fun. These are the things that keep us sane, and remind us of why we wear these capes to begin with."

Of course January did not see Blood Raven taking her own advice. Did her mentor even have any friends outside of her life as a superhero? She did have her writing as a Neo-Pagan author. But did she ever just hang out with friends? Somehow January did not think so.

Then again, perhaps that was exactly why the elder heroine was exhorting her to balance her heroing with a real life?

She sat at the corner of 9 Mile and Ryan Road, and waited behind a line of cars for the light to change. She idly noted that her old school - Fitzgerald High - was right there over her shoulder. That did not bring a tide of good memories. She idly wondered if anyone ever actually enjoyed public school. Or were even the popular kids - i.e. the bullies - as miserable as everyone else whom they preyed upon?

The sight of what she took for an unhoused man striding along the sidewalk beside her did not improve her mood. As always, she felt a deep pang of shame and regret when she set eyes upon someone like him. Shame at the reminder of all the privileges she had in life, which she so commonly took for granted: like having food to eat and a warm, safe place to live. Regret that not everyone was so lucky to enjoy such things.

She tried to look away, but the man fixed his one eye upon her, and January found that she could not turn aside. That single, bright blue eye seemed to pierce through to her soul. It impaled her like a spear, and she felt almost as if she hanged upon it, for nine days and nights, while the ravens feasted all around.

"Death is coming for you!" he croaked. "It comes for us all. Darkness sweeps across the land. The Age of Man is over!"

He shook a sign that proclaimed the end of the world to underscore his words. A pair of ravens leaped skyward from its rim, and screeched loudly as they swirled around him.

Then the blaring of car horns cut through the scene. January nearly leaped from her motorcycle, and jerked her eyes forward. The light had turned green, and the cars ahead were fading into the distance. In the meantime the cars behind her all crowded in close, eager to be on their way.

She shook her head and put the Victory in gear. She sped off without a second look at the strange old man. What kind of idiot was she, staring at some poor man in the street like he was some sideshow? She had to pay attention to where she was, and what she was doing. Not gape at less privileged people.

January still felt a little odd when she finally did pull up in Avery's driveway. She had to thread her way past numerous cars to reach the back yard, where she finally locked down her bike. She strode through the back door and trundled down the stairs to the basement, and once again found that she was the last one there.

She did note that while the Gadget Cave was filled with its usual mess of electronics and gizmos, there was nothing that looked even slightly like a suit of powered armor, much less a miniature fusion reactor. Just like her, Avery kept that part of his life on the down low.

The owner of the cave was there of course, looking every inch the tech nerd that he was in his Ohm's Law shirt. Ryo hovered in the shadows, as was his wont. Still, he displayed his nerd chops by wearing a sweater over a button down shirt, even though it was July. Kell was all working class hero, in a frayed Queens of the Stone Age shirt and jeans. While Rus was his usual golden god self, wearing tie-dye and bell bottoms.

The only one missing was Blackjack. Well, he was not entirely missing. His face graced one of the monitors on Avery's desktop. January could see a glass sliding door behind him, with a truly amazing view of the Los Angeles skyline beyond. Skyscrapers rose in a forest of glass and steel, and the endless blue of a cloudless sky stretched out into infinity beyond.

"Morning Star!" he cried from over the video link, referring to January by her special nerd name.

"Mister Jack!" January grinned. For a moment she forgot all about the Hierophant, and bone wights, and Abyssals, and even doomsayers. "How's LA?"

"This town is awesome!" the bearded young man crowed. "I wish you could all be here. Guess what? I'm staying for a while! The Really, Really Late Show wants me on too! But hey, look, the show's about to start."

Avery turned on the old television that sat across from the battered couch in the center of his domain. Well, it looked like an old TV, with a big wooden frame and dials that ran along the side. But the screen had been replaced with a modern, ultra-high definition one. Really, it was a band new TV in the case of an old one.

The Helen Show came on in no time at all. The long since out hostess went through her usual starting monologue. Then she brought out Jack. January had to stare from one screen to another, and reminded herself that the show had been taped, like all talk shows were. Kell produced a bowl of popcorn, which they all proceeded to throw at the screen in a festive manner.

January had to admit, she had missed this simple camaraderie and fellowship of hanging out with friends. Like the others, she reveled in Jack's success. Helen played back his new music video Crazy for this Crow in its full. By now it had taken the internet by storm. Or perhaps by Stormcrow, as Helen was quick to note.

It still felt a little odd for January to watch the video. That was her in those shaky hand-held camera clips, and rock-still security feeds. Half of the music video was just footage of her from various events such as the Flying Dutchman fire, the fight in the Flint Airport, or the battle against the Nazis at Motor City Pride. The other half was Jack alternately playing himself, or dressed up in a truly goofy Stormcrow outfit that was so ridiculous that it could only to be taken as satire. As the song explained, it was all a series of near-meetings. Every time poor Jack was never quite able to get her attention because some new disaster struck, and he could never tell her how he was truly crazy for her.

The interview that followed was fun. Granted, Helen was not grilling him in any sense of the word. This was a comedy talk show, and she was the Queen of Nice. Blackjack even had the chance to do some of his stand up. Well, from a sitting position on her couch. But he really did show that he was more than just a musician. He was a comedic tour-de-force. He even worked in a shout-out to his fellow Knights of Nerddom near the end. That brought a chorus of yells and cheers from all in the basement, even the normally quiet and reserved Ryo. When Helen asked him if he had any interest in acting, he did not turn down the possibility of doing that in the future.

They hung out after the show, and broke out the character sheets, dice, and RPG manuals. In no time at all January immersed herself in her Shadowrun alter-ego of Dora the Kneecapper: Dwarven physical adept and runner of the Seattle Shadows.

[WellTemperedClavier]

Think I see how you handled the identity issue, and well-done!

The last part really resonated with me. No matter how carefully you do things, you can't really control your own narrative once it gets into the public sphere. And this isn't bad. Jack's song seems well-intentioned, but it can't help come off as a little odd to January. That's just the price of being a public figure.

EDIT: Pressed the submit button too quickly.

Good point also about maintaining the balance. The cape can swallow someone whole, which itself is a more dramatic version of what can happen with a job, a hobby, or a relationship. All part of the delicate balancing act of being a super. She can't fully reveal herself to her buddies, and spending time with them raises the risk of her doing so accidentally. But at the same time, she'll probably go crazy without them, and that'd also impact her effectiveness as a super.

Not really any easy answers, unfortunately.

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Sep 17 2022, 08:33 PM

[Acadian]

Regarding your comments to Rader about Xochitl’s name. I had no clue how to even attempt to pronounce it. But your ‘Sochi’ comment solved that! Now. . . the bad news is that it conjures images of ‘Joanie loves Sochi Chachi’.

Regarding January’s Theme, I remember when you were playing that game!

*

Stormcrow did a great job of supporting Xochitl without undermining her parents during a potentially thorny scene. And an excellent farewell to Xochitl as she passed on Blood Raven’s mantra for mages of ‘do not guess, know’.

Nice introspection as she ponders balancing life and duty – especially her suspicion that Blood Raven’s advice on keeping both in perspective was likely forged from its violation, not adherence.

And take an evening to just have fun is exactly what she did. Good on January. . . er, I mean Dora the Kneecapper.


Nits:
"That's easy for you to say, you..." Xochitl's mother began, then he {her?} words trailed off as she looked at January.’
’She had said so Blood Raven earlier.’ - - I suspect you want a ‘to’ after ‘so’?

[Renee]

That's cute, your story of trying to summon from the Necromicon. Yes indeed, good thing those sort of spells don't work (well... maybe sometimes they do). So from what you're saying, this is Xochitl's first success with spellcasting. But really, it's because the Hierophant is involved that it worked at all. That bastard.

Okay, I see. So the amulet was placed there merely as a distraction. I get it, now. So that's one heck of a coincidence that the person who found the amulet just happens to be on the same page as Raven and Jan, not some dirt kid who's more of a bully, for instance.

Parents show up, and they are freaked out. Yeah, and January can certainly relate to the child, who isn't going to want to "blend in". I mean, the parents are going to have to come to terms with this at some point. Jan knows exactly what to say to them though. Probably because there was nobody to speak for her when she was Xochitl's age, nobody to provide that sort of guidance.

Whoa! Stormcrow can put Xochitl in touch with January Ward! Won't they both have the same perky voice, though?

But at the same time, she knew that she could not hold the hands of everyone in the world who had ever endured suffering.

Very true. Her list of contacts of people she's saved keeps growing, too. Jan even saved a monster (Gola) and left her with a cheap cellphone just in case. But ... Just imagine how long Raven's list is. And how worldwide. Raven doesn't seem to be as interested in keeping touch with those she has saved though, right? Her motivations are different.

Uh oh. See I don't think that old man is just a homeless old man.

Nice. She's back with her crew. Ha, they're watching "Ellen'. And finally... they get to play their RPG. So much has happened. I imagine from Jan's perspective, she's now got all this real-world experience which just keeps piling on. No doubt this will slip in and out of her awareness as she's gaming.

I notice something positive about this episode: not once does she ache over Vortex.

This post has been edited by Renee: Sep 19 2022, 02:51 PM

[SubRosa]

WellTemperedClavier: The identity issue is not really solved yet. It just begs the question of how long it will take Xochitl to figure out that January Ward/Ryan is Stormcrow. As Renee noted, they both have the same perky phone voice. But I do think I have a solution to that for the future.

For January the weirdest thing is seeing herself on television. TBH, Jack making a humorous video about her exploits is probably the most agreeable option for her. Because she does not have to take it seriously. But it is still weird for someone like January, who has always tried to avoid attention in her 'normal' life. The attention of the media is one of the things she will always grapple with in the future.

I think the whole reason that Gandalf was so chummy with the hobbits in Hobbiton is what you said about balance. Being around them and part of their lives is something that brought him down to earth, and reminded him of what he was fighting for - ordinary people like the Tooks, and Brandybucks, and the Bagginses. The hobbits kept him sane. I think that is why he did not fall to the dark side, as Saruman did. In the end Saruman was not fighting for anyone but himself. So he betrayed the allies and took his own shot for the Ring.


Acadian: A couple of posts back I did have January flub Xochitl's name by having her say "Like the city Sochi". Because I do not expect anyone to know how to pronunciate it. I had to google it.

I am thinking of possibly going back to Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice soon. It was a very cool game.

January's Conjure Woman wisdom was just a little example of how she might really be ready to become a teacher after all. She just does not realize it yet.

I always picture Dora the Kneecapper as looking like the famous Explorer by the same name, which of course was January's inspiration for the character.

As ever, thank you for finding the nits for me to pick out.


Renee: I know what you are saying about Xochitl's demeanor being one friendly to the Blackbirds. But then again, if she was a bag of dicks, she probably would not be doing magic in her bedroom during the afternoon. She'd be out bullying kids smaller than her.

Jan does have an ever-growing list of people she has helped, whom she keeps pledging to support. How much she can actually do so is debatable, as we will find out shortly. Keep in a pin on Gola. January has not checked in with her since she left her at Garden Island. She's too busy with other things. But that is going to come back to her.

Which is why Blood Raven does not reach out as much to people as January does. She knows her limitations, and does not want to spread herself too thin, by making promises she cannot keep. She knows that she cannot always drop everything and be there for everyone else in the world. January still has to learn that.

That perky phone voice is definitely going to be a problem for January some day...

And that one-eyed homeless man will appear once more in the story. Though not for a while yet. January would have been wise to heed him however...

And Jan gets to do the thing she loves most, game with her friends. You are right too about Vortex! I had not thought about it, but for a few hours at least, she had completely forgotten about Vortex.











Blood Raven's Theme - Two Steps From Hell - Blackheart

Flavor Aid

Torpedoes in the US Civil War



Book 10.4 - Alliance


July 8th, evening

"You worked on the house of James Henley Thornwell last December."

Blood Raven stood in the back yard of an ordinary suburban home. In the center of the space rose a half-built gazebo. A detached garage sat in one corner of the property, and the concrete driveway leading from it to the street was piled with lumber, tools, and other building supplies. A wooden privacy fence rose up on all sides, shielding her from view from the outside.

Her words had weight, and pressure, and wove around the men who stood clustered before the unfinished gazebo. Her aion wrapped about them, and found purchase within all ears who heard. This power wormed into minds, turned eyes to glass, and voices into dull monotones.

"Yes," one of the contractors replied. His head was bald except for the tuft of gray stubble that ran about the base of his skull. A long mustache swept down from his lips to his jaw line. Dark hair bristled along his bare forearms and through the wide neck of his dirty Bon Jovi t-shirt. A pair of thick gloves spilled from the back pocket of his faded jeans, and a pair of worn, but stout boots sheathed his feet.

"It was fire damage, in the basement," another of the workers replied. This one was younger, with a full head of hair and dark glasses over his eyes. Otherwise he looked much the same, clad in stained clothes, bearing calluses on his hands, and a deep tan that implied many hours spent working in the sun. "We had to replace all the dry wall and floor tile. And make a new door to the secret room."

"The what?" Cray's voice normally mellow tones rose several octaves in Blood Raven's ear.

"Tell me more of this secret room." Blood Raven's eyes bored into this man. The scarlet light of her eyes shone through the dark lenses of his glasses, and flooded into his eyes. She took tight hold of his mind, and illuminated the memory like a spotlight.

"It was set in the back wall of the basement, past the washer and dryer," the builder replied. "There was a new wall put up there to partition off the rest of the basement. It even had the same paneling over it that was on the original concrete basement walls. It was burned to hell, but enough was still there to tell what it was. We had to rebuild the entire wall, put in a new secret door, and put up all new paneling around the whole basement so it all matched."

"How is it opened?" Blood Raven probed.

"That was a work of art," a third man spoke up now. His hair was a black waterfall, and a stubble of dark hairs rumpled his face. "There is a shelf there. You twist the left bracket, and the door pops open. Otherwise it looks like the rest of the wall."

"What was in the secret room?"

"It was all burned up," a fourth man replied. His head was shaved completely bald, and a tribal tattoo curled its way around his neck. "There was a big stone block, and some furniture, maybe a table, or desk, some broken glass. It's too hard to tell what most of it was."

"The claw marks," the first man spoke again.

The other men chimed in, their words a dull monotone.

"The claws."

"The marks."

"Gouges, like fingers, in the concrete."

"Were there any bodies?" Blood Raven probed. "Human, or otherwise?"

"No," the first man replied, "just ash."

"Did you tell anyone about this?" Blood Raven continued.

"About what?" the first man replied.

"There was nothing to tell, just an ordinary job," the third man said. "Some new panels, floor tile, and shelves, simple job really."

"What the?" Cray's voice sounded perplexed in Blood Raven's ear.

"Their memories have been suppressed." Blood Raven murmured in a low voice, so the workmen would not hear. "Only my spell can cut through to the truth of the matter."

She closed her eyes, and allowed her consciousness to shift completely into the aether. She moved from the pale, mundane auras of one man after another. She had to dig deeply, but in each she found the subtle tracks of a magician. She took her time and unraveled the magic that had altered their minds, and allowed the spells to dissipate into the aether.

When she was finished she finally allowed the Hypnotic Voice spell to slip away, and returned their minds and wills back to them. Their blank stares slowly dissolved into looks of confusion as the men blinked their eyes, stretched their limbs, and looked about themselves as if waking from a deep sleep. When their gazes settled upon Blood Raven, their faces blossomed with amazement.

"It... it... it's You!" one of them stammered.

"I thank you gentlemen for your assistance," she said calmly.

Without another word of explanation she rose up into the sky, and turned her own gaze westward. She had business to attend to at home of James Henley Thornwell, the former Religious Studies instructor of Julian Ward.

"That was diligent work of yours, to find the invoice of these contractors in the university's records," she said to Cray as the miles vanished beneath her feet. "Otherwise I should never have interviewed these men."

"I can't believe you didn't find that secret room when you were at Thornwell's house last week," the hacker responded. "You don't usually miss things like that."

"None of us are omnipotent," Blood Raven mused. "To believe so, is to imbibe of one's own Kool-Aid. It must be shielded in the aether. Just as the mask that Julian so cleverly wore about his aura."

"That was Flavor-Aid." Cray murmured. "Well, some of it was. Anyway, so this Professor Thornwell is our man then? Should I call the rest of the team?"

"Nay," Blood Raven replied. "Things may not be as they appear. This may be yet another torpedo that the Hierophant has buried in his tracks."

"They call those land mines now." Cray noted wryly.

"You young people constantly feel the need to reinvent - and rename - the wheel," Blood Raven waved a hand in dismissal. "In any case, we shall learn soon enough."

[WellTemperedClavier]

Agreed about Gandalf. I suppose Radagast had something similar with the animals? Power is isolating, and being isolated usually doesn't do great things for the mind.

Now I'm wondering whatever happened to the Blue Wizards. Oh well, on to the subject...

Good showcase of how Blood Raven's approach is so different. I recall her and January not quite seeing eye to eye on this kind of matter (hypnotizing people, sort of). Still, she is getting valuable information that wouldn't be accessible in any other way.

I do like Raven's struggle to adapt to the modern parlance. That's something I imagine is pretty important to her due to living for so long. Part of being a hero is, as you said, staying in touch with what you're defending. It's harder to do that if you hold yourself apart. Certainly the world's a vastly different place, in some respects, than the one in which she grew up. Changing with the times makes it easier to care about that world.

[Acadian]

Once again, 2SfH is always a good musical accompaniment.

Blood Raven pursues a promising lead, with Cray’s help. The mind control magic suits her perfectly as a vampire. A secret room – wow! That doesn’t sound good. Especially the bit about claw marks.

Her departure from the confused construction crew without explanation gives truth to the saying that a woman is entitled to maintain an air of mystery – and Blood Raven is a grandmaster of that.

"To believe so, is to imbibe of one's own Kool-Aid.”
It is fun to listen to Blood Raven’s awkward attempts to bring her speech patterns into modern times.

[Renee]

Are you saying Gola could return? Kewl!

Nice, so I'm right about a few things. Sorry if my constant guessing gets annoying, btw. I frequently try to figure out stuff as I read physical books as well. It's because occasionally I'm right. I like that +INT moment when predictions come true.

Blackheart totally fits Branwen! Indeed, her theme music should be from her time period, totally different from what represents Jan.

Whoa, this is intense. What's going on in the beginning? Looks like she's hypnotizing them. The "voices in dull monotone" part is exactly what I imagined. They are sort of standing around, with blank stares. No inflections in their voices. Huh.

So that's odd. So it sounds like one of Jan's teachers is involved.

She calls Cray "young".

This post has been edited by Renee: Sep 26 2022, 01:15 PM

[SubRosa]

WellTemperedClavier: Everyone wonders what happened to the Blue Wizards! Probably Tolkien himself as well...

This was both another example of several showing how Blood Raven was hunting for the Hierophant. In this case, it is a key event. It does show how she differs from January, in that she is willing to use mind control to get at the truth.

Blood Raven's struggle with modern speech and especially slang is something that has many levels to it. On one hand I have deliberately given her a unique form of speech in order to set her aside from everyone else, and serve as a subtle reminder that she is 250 years old. But OTOH, it is also gives me the chance to interject some humor into what is otherwise a pretty intense and driven person, via her endeavoring not to fudge the bucket and avoid being sus. Finally, words themselves are something that she and January bond over, both of them being writers.

A long time ago I read a book about vampires, I think by Barbara Hambly. It might have been something like "Those Who Hunt The Night"? I don't remember for certain. But what I do remember was how the author always portrayed vampires as struggling to stay current with the times. Many of them simply could not do it, and literally get stuck in the cultural past. So their society would create new vampires over time, in order to get fresh blood into the ranks, who understood how society currently worked. Essentially their job was to navigate the modern world for the older vampire society. The protagonist was one such fledgling vampire.

That tendency of immortals to have trouble with constant change is something I have always remembered, and is something I try to apply to Blood Raven. It is hard for her to keep up, especially given the tremendous technological and societal changes that have taken place since she was born. One way that she combats it is through her many apprentices, like January. By regularly reaching out to young people and becoming part of their lives, she brings herself into the modern era (whichever one that happens to be).


Acadian: I did give Blood Raven the hypnotic voice power because it is so commonly associated with vampires. But it also works really well for a detective, and Blood Raven does a lot of that kind of work as a superhero. She has probably used it more in her 50 years as a super, than the 200 years of her life beforehand.

Blood Raven is indeed a international domestic woman of mystery. January would have stuck around and talked to the workmen for at least a few minutes and explained things to them (and taken selfies with them). But as we have seen, that is not Blood Raven's style. She's the dark avenger lurking around gothic steeples type, not your friendly neighborhood corvidgirl.

Sometimes Blood Raven reminds me of Steve Buschemi going undercover as a teen. "How do you do fellow kids?"


Renee: Gola will be back next week. She has a very important role to play in current events.

Keep guessing. I try to leave enough breadcrumbs for people to figure out what is going on.

She is hypnotizing them. That is how she gets to the truth of the matter when she is really serious about interrogating people. It is not something she usually does. But when its critical, like now, her Hypnotic Voice is her go to.

To Blood Raven, Cray is young. She is two centuries older than he is, give or take a decade...








The Hierophant's Theme - Audiomachine - Rise of the Black Curtain


Belle Isle Casino Interior 1

Belle Isle Casino Interior 2


Paulding Light

Michigan Dogman

Gnoll

Waheela

Spiky Creature

Antlered Man




Book 10.5 - Alliance

July 8 (evening)

The summer sun hovered above the horizon like an angry red scar when January stepped out of Avery's back door. She raised one hand to shield its glare from her eyes, and walked across the yard to the driveway. It was now empty of vehicles, except for Avery's yellow Geo Storm, and her own Victory Empulse. She was the last to leave, as usual.

She stepped up to the red and black motorcycle and swung one leg over its frame. She eased into the seat, and lifted her full-face helmet in her hands. She paused at the sound of footsteps on the concrete driveway behind her. She twisted in the saddle, and turned to look back at their source. Was it Avery bringing something she had forgotten?

It was not. It was a figure in a black mantle cloak and hood. Under that he wore the white habit of a Christian monk. A featureless black cloth mask obscured most of his features, but it was pulled up to expose his mouth.

It was a Dominican Black Friar's outfit. The same as that worn by her late brother Julian and his master: the Hierophant.

Before January could react, the stranger lifted his open hand to his lips and exhaled with a great blast of air. The green powder in his open palm billowed forth and engulfed January's head in a noxious cloud. Before she could stop herself, she had inhaled some of it. It burned, but worse, it sent her lungs off on a paroxysm of coughing. That only served to force her to inhale more of the repellant particles with each uncontrollable intake of air.

She swatted at the cloud of dust that now shrouded her, but to no avail. The motorcycle helmet fell from her fingers, which now felt as numb and heavy as lead. She tried to summon her armor, but the mana skittered away from her fingertips. She tried to call out to Avery, but she could not get the air in her lungs. The world darkened, and swam in her view. The last thing she knew, she was falling. Then everything went black.


* * *

January woke to find herself sprawled out on a cold stone floor. A series of circular mosaics were set into the soft brown flecked flagstones. The one directly beneath her created a white circle filled with a floral pattern of green, yellow, and red vines and flowers. Farther out a similar ring of floral decoration orbited this central design.

She raised her head, and saw that she was in a palace of sorts. To one side a white marble staircase rose up to another floor overhead, flanked by columns of black marble cut through with white veins. More marble of the inverse white with black veins decorated the opposite wall. A row of tall glass windows lay in a third direction, cut through with entirely modern steel and glass doors.

A chandelier made of gold and delicate crystal glowed directly above her. It hung from a circular skylight of unusual design. Rather than a simple window in the roof; it was crisscrossed in a waffle-shaped pattern of whitewashed wood, which matched the flat, white ceiling around it. If it had been daytime light would have streamed in through the glass panes between the wooden slats. But all she saw through them now were the stars in the night sky.

It looked like some fancy event hall for the hoity-toity. The kind of place January would normally never come within a mile of. She wished that was the case now.

Then January noted the lines of cornmeal drawn out atop the elegant stonework of the floor. One set of lines encircled her in a ring that outlined a series of Old Futhark runes, which had also been drawn with the same coarse yellow flour. This led to a larger circle set off to one side. That in turn ran to a third and final ring. All three formed a V shape, with a circle at every point.

Her heart froze at the sight. She had seen this before, many times in fact. Variations of it filled the Rauðskinna, as did the real life examples at Ferndale Pride and Jobbie Nooner. It was an Abyssal summoning ritual. Only this one was stripped down to its barest essentials: energy from the sacrifice, energy from the control, and the final endpoint for both. Or as Avery had put it, it was an electrical circuit with two voltages feeding into a load.

Within the control circle stood the same black and white-clad monk who had poisoned her. He held a book in one hand. Its red leather cover was cracked and worn with age, and the uneven pages within were yellowed from time. January could only glimpse a few of the golden characters of the title. But she did not need to see the rest. It was the Rauðskinna, the curse spawned by her eight times great-grandfather: Nátthrafn.

Likewise, January did not need anyone to tell her that this was the Hierophant. He was the wizard who had killed at least two people by simply practicing to summon Abyssals. He was the wizard who had used and later killed her brother Julian. He was the wizard who had likewise used Xochitl in order to set a trap for his pursuers. After the much larger trap he had laid at Gull Island had failed of course.

January had longed to come face to face with this monster. But not like this. Not as his next victim.

Suddenly she was back in junior high school once more, and two bullies were holding her down, while a third proceeded to pummel her stomach with kicks and punches. She squirmed and struggled and cried, but all for nothing. She could not break free. All she could do was endure the pain.

January gritted her teeth, and banished that memory from her head. She was not a victim anymore. She would not simply endure this time, while her tormentors brutalized her.

Whatever he had drugged her with was slowly leaving her system now. For the world no longer swayed, and she could see father into the chamber around her. At first she could only make out vague shapes. But they soon resolved themselves into at least half a dozen distinct figures. They spread out all around the summoning array, and waited in the gloom.

They came in all shapes and sizes. One was simply a glow of light, reminding January of a will-o'-the-wisp. But her memory reminded her of a cryptid from here in Michigan with a similar description: the Paulding Light. Another looked like a strange hybrid of a human and a dog, looming tall with a multi-headed flail clutched in one meaty paw. Was that the Michigan Dogman? Or was it a gnoll from Dungeons and Dragons? Kell would know. He collected cryptids and conspiracy theories like other people did band shirts or salt and pepper shakers.

A third was a wolf far too massive to be normal, or even for a dire wolf from the Stone Age. That also set January tumbling through the pages of her memory, until she recalled the Waheela - the white saberwolf from Alaska that ripped people's heads off.

Still more creatures loomed about. One appeared to be an antlered man with claws the length of daggers. Another was only vaguely humanoid, with sharp, angled joints that always ended with something spiky. Even its head was shaped vaguely like an arrowhead, narrowing to a sharp point in the back of its triangular skull.

It was a veritable rogue's gallery of cryptids, monsters, and nightmares. All of them looked expectantly to the Hierophant.

"I see you have awakened, August."

As it always did, a knife turned in January's stomach at the sound of her dead name. The fact that the Hierophant would even address her as such showed how petty he was. Apparently even the slightest cruelty was not something he was willing to overlook indulging within.

January could not think of anything to say in reply. What was there to say? Except...

"Why, why me?" she blurted out before she could stop. Had he learned that she was Stormcrow? Was that why he had kidnapped her?

"Why, because of your brother of course."

The Hierophant paused a moment, and threw back his hood. He stripped the mask from his features a moment later. Revealed beneath was an entirely ordinary man in his later years. His fair skin was heavily creased with age and spare folds of fat. His rubbery scalp was completely bare of hair, whether deliberately shaved or from natural hair loss, January could not guess. His neck was practically non-existent. He looked like nothing so much as a thumb-head.

"I was his Religious Studies professor," the Hierophant confessed. "For years, I worked on him. I nurtured his hate and insecurities. I let him pretend to be the victim of your non-existent slights, so that he would strive for revenge. At the same time I taught him magic. So that he would bring me this book. Best of all, I let him think it was his idea all along."

The Hierophant held up the Rauðskinna in triumph, and this time January could not miss its full title.

"A degenerate invert like you would not know it, but you two came from a once proud and noble line." The black-clad friar went on with a sneer. "The apple certainly fell far from the tree in both your cases. But nonetheless you each possessed the one thing I required: blood. For only your blood could call this great working of your ancestor Nátthrafn, and reveal to me the secrets of his return."

"Why would you want to do that?" January pressed. He was monologuing, just like a supervillain in a comic book. The last thing she wanted now was for him to stop. So long as he was bragging about his master stroke, he would not be killing her.

January had to play for time, time for Blood Raven to find her. If only there was some way to contact the other heroine. She looked around, but saw no sign of her purse, or the phone that she kept within it. Even her gaming backpack and her helmet were gone. Apparently he had taken her, and nothing else.

"What would you need this Nat-guy for anyway?" January pressed.

She could try to summon the Stormcrow suit. It would out her secret identity of course. If the Hierophant did not in fact, know that already. But she could hit the general distress beacon in Sága, and bring every member of the Alliance to her immediately.

But she had to call up her mana first. That was easier said than done. Whatever the Hierophant has poisoned her with, it had not completely left her system. Her power was fleeting. Every time she grasped for it, the mana washed through her fingers. She tried to concentrate, but her head was just too foggy to elicit that sharp clarity of will that using her magic required.

"Quite simply, he has defied death, made a mockery of it." For a moment the old man's voice sounded as brittle as wind in dry grass. It was not exultant, so much as desperate. Desperate to escape the constraints of time and age, and the inevitable end they demanded of all that lived.

Then his tone became stronger, full of purpose, and the Hierophant went on. "He has been beyond, to the Abyss. He knows its secrets, things no mortal man can grasp. He will share that knowledge with me, and I shall go beyond life and death myself."

"Really," January could not contain her incredulity. "Don't you remember what Gandalf said about the Dark Lord sharing power? What makes you think he is going to help you?"

"Why my friends and I can be very persuasive!" the Hierophant practically cackled. He turned slowly, and gestured to the monsters assembled around them. "I did not amass these worthy fellows to do battle with Blood Raven and her pitiful allies. I brought them here to lend weight to my case with your eight times great-grandfather."

While his back was turned, January tried again. This time she felt her mana rise up within her, pure and clean. She focused on her suit, and reached out through the cosmos to call it to her. But her energy slammed into the runes that hemmed her in, and bounded back like they were a brick wall. She was trapped, not just physically, but magically.

But wait, was she really trapped? Without another thought she flailed out with one arm. Her closed fist slammed against the thin air above the runes that circled her, as if against an invisible wall. The Hierophant spun at the sound of her hand clunking against the barrier, and his eyes glowed with unabashed delight.

"Go ahead, flail all you want," he preened. "You think the others didn't try? Once within that circle, there is no escape."

January fell down to her hands and knees. Her hair spilled about her in a golden cascade. She vainly slammed a fist into the stone floor, and felt pain as it refused to yield under her blow. She was trapped by the runes that sat just inches away. Nothing but tiny granules of cornmeal, piled up in little yellow hills and ridges.

"You can thank your brother for this," the Hierophant went on. "It was his idea to use you for the final sacrifice. He was squeamish about the other ones, especially at Gull Island. By then he had seen what I did to the man in Ferndale. He knew what was coming. He lacked the will to do it himself, so I had to do it, again."

"But he was looking forward to killing you. He wanted your blood on his hands. It is one of the ways I made him my servant. Whenever he wavered, you were the carrot I dangled in front of his face. The pathetic, twisted, perverse brother whom he thought was constantly stealing the acclaim he felt he deserved. You see, after you came along, he wasn't special anymore. He wasn't the center of the world anymore. And he couldn't stand that. His jealously was as delicious to stoke as it was amusing."

"But you killed him anyway, didn't you?" January sneered.

"Of course I did," the Hierophant insisted. "He gave me no choice. The coward was going to spill his guts to Blood Raven. That bitch and her brood would have been on me in no time at all. I never would have been able to complete my great work, and all of this would have been for nothing."

"But it was no great loss, really," the monk went on. "In reality, he had fulfilled his purpose once he had brought a copy of the Rauðskinna to me. It can only be accessed by one of your blood line. I spent years searching for it. But your brother stumbled upon it with barely any effort at all. It was just there one day, right in front of him in the school library. After that he was useful, but in the end, just a tool after all, and tools are meant to be used and discarded."

[Renee]

Damn, that sucks. She's been captured.

But hmm, so he's only captured her because of her relationship to Julian? So Higherpants might not know Jan = Stormcrow?

This is crazy. So all that time, he's training her brother in magic. Wow. He really does not seem to fully know who she is. 🎆 He's teaching her about her ancestry, like she doesn't already know. Some seer he is.

Yeah, isn't that true about so many movies in which there's a supervillain who's had the tables turned in his or her way? They ramble on and on about how everything has come to this moment, how their captured subjects never saw they'd be in their current plight, and so on. That's mostly ego, I guess. They get so proud of how clever they are.

In fact, I don't think he wants to just kill Jan, he wants a replacement for Julian perhaps (hence he's drugged her instead of courting her in some class) but let me shush for a moment.

Man, what a jerk. I can understand sucky situations, sucky weather, stuff which is beyond our control, but why do some people have to suck?