Wow, that Talyor in Gotham was just so adorably fucked up. Seriously, you win the award for that one.
Fencer's Plot Bunnies
The Path of the Executioner
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
AN: Content Warning: Mentions of wrist cutting. No one is suicidal, but honestly that might make it worse.
Worm x Cradle, Taylor on a Death Path. Which frankly means I have to make up a whole slew of details because canon gave us very little to work with when it comes to death madra. For those of you who know enough cradle lore to care about the details. The Reaper made a death path shard, or possibly multiple death path shards, from the corpse of an entity. He tossed one at earth. Taylor got to peak iron and the death path shard basically bonded to her the way Lindon did to Orthos only the thing has enough power crammed into it to take care of all her needs, it's the treasure she cycles aura from, it helps rapidly purify and condense her madra to let her advance very rapidly, it's bullshit, but it was made by the Reaper from the corpse of an Entity so really it's to be expected.
Thanks as always go to Functionality. And with this out of my head hopefully I can fully focus on star wars for a bit. I missed May 4th!
Sitting in the bunker next to Dad surrounded by hundreds of other people all on the verge of panic… I felt like a coward.
Ever since Mom's death and meeting, well not meeting he only left a recording, the Reaper of the Abidan. I'd thrown myself fully into the training he had left for me. Desperately trying to complete the training he left me without killing myself and before everything came crashing down. I'd stopped putting much effort in at school. I'd stopped hanging out with Emma, not that she seemed any more interested in spending time with me these days either. Though she had stopped acting like a bitch after the third time I broke Sophia's nose.
I barely made time for Dad. Though honestly, I almost didn't need to make time for him given how badly Mom's death had shaken him. So, it had been just me, pushing ahead as quickly as I possibly could with the aid of the one of a kind treasure the Reaper made from the shard of a dead world eating parasite. I'd pushed along the path he had laid out for me and clawed my way through the foundation stages and all the way to the peak of True Gold with a speed I knew would have been incredible and dangerous on Cradle. But I wasn't a true sacred artist. My powers were only a facsimile of his home world's system of powers. I could push farther, faster. I just had to be willing to work myself to the bone.
It was also the only way to avoid my power killing me. It doesn't play nicely with the living, myself unfortunately included.
But now Leviathan was here. And I wasn't strong enough. Even advancing now probably wouldn't make me strong enough. Not if I had the scale worked out properly in my head.
Killing the source of powers would take an Abidan judge, a team of Abidan fighters, or a half dozen Monarchs acting in concert. The Reaper had been clear about that. Assuming the Endbringers are some of the entity's strongest creations. Killing one would probably take a Sage or Herald.
The best I could reasonably hope to achieve now was scaring it off with the bluff that I could attack indefinitely. But for the world… my best would be reaching Monarch and evacuating as many people as possible.
Honestly what was the point! Two and a half years of my life I'd thrown away breaking every record for advancement ever set with the help of a treasure whole worlds would have gone to war for… and I'd done nothing with these powers except chase improvement as a way to survive. I haven't done anything else since… oh.
Folding myself into a sitting position I pulled on my soulfire, and spoke.
"I practice the sacred arts to distract myself from Mom's death, and my grief."
Soulfire burned through me like a tidal wave.
My body refined itself, burning away imperfections and strengthening itself. Dad, even as blind to the energies I manipulated as he and the others cramped in tight with us… well they all felt the energies moving in such ridiculous quantities. They looked around half panicked, thinking it was a sign of Leviathan's presence.
And the world decided to mock me because right then something banged against the shelter door. All I could do as the soulfire continued its work was laugh. In terror? Anger? Irony? Hope? I couldn't be sure.
If I really wanted to do something with all this power. If I was going to force myself to move on from Mom's death and really start changing things, even if I'd have to flee the world in the end… At least I could make a difference in this moment. I could buy these people a few more years. Maybe take them with me if I got that far. It might not be much, but damn it all it was something. And turning away when I could do even that much would be nearly as bad as killing them myself.
The door to the shelter shuddered under another hit as soulfire airbrushed me, inside and out.
A double hit to the doors.
Damn it. Hurry up. If I die here because Leviathan killed me mid advancement… Could there be a stupider way to die? Dumb question, fighting Leviathan as a Gold in an enclosed space would be stupider. Besides I didn't just want to fight, or run. I want to kill the fucker. Even if it's impossible for me as I am, I want it like nothing else in the world.
The door opened a crack and water started pouring in.
Come on, come on, come on!
The door blew inward. And the beast stuck its ugly four eyed asymmetrical head in.
My advancement snapped into place. I called out and my power answered faster and stronger than ever before. The difference is like night and day but I don't have time to marvel over it.
In a second I moved to put myself between everyone and the Endbringer. I would need to be careful and control my attacks precisely. Even a brush from one of my attacks would kill these people. Hell, they would kill just about anyone on the planet. Maybe everyone now that I was into the lord realm though powers are weird so who could be certain.
I couldn't even drop my veil this close to so many people. An underlord on a death path unveiled? I'd probably give anyone over sixty a heart attack.
The only option is to attack and hope to drive Leviathan back.
Fifty darts of death madra rocketed towards the beast in a heartbeat. Leviathan only had time to startle back a step before impact as my poison dart technique landed. The insubstantial energy passed into the monster, and became diffuse, the energy rampaging throughout his body attacking whatever passed for its life line.
If it was an ordinary human just one dart would kill on contact, but for this? My very first technique from when I was a pathetically weak jade was actually a solid option. And to think, all this much more powerful version cost me was a dozen years off of my maximum lifespan. My control was so much better as an Underlady than it had ever been at gold.
Leviathan reared back in shock and hopefully pain. It pushed off and away from me leaving a mass of water to flood into the shelter, but I couldn't stop to worry about that now.
I grabbed control of what little death Madra was floating free in the air from my attack. It wasn't nearly enough for my Ruler technique, but if this dragged on long enough it might be a start and honestly leaving even this little bit free and out of my direct control was asking for some poor unfortunate to drop dead.
I desperately wanted the greataxe I'd hidden at home, forging it in secret and strengthening it with my meager true gold soul fire had taken ages. Now that my soul space wasn't the size of a tennis ball I'd keep it with me always, but I couldn't worry about the options I didn't have available to me right now. I needed to focus on what I could do.
No weapon so no weapon enforcer technique. And on a death path any kind of body enforcer technique would be the same as strapping on a suicide vest and hoping you got in a punch before dying. My ruler technique still needed more ambient death madra. Striker and forger techniques it is.
I stomped my foot in a mostly unnecessary movement for the sheer dramatic flair and my madra rushed along the ground then upward as spears of black energy. One blasted into each leg and another straight up right where the monster's ass would have been. These were solid unlike my first attack, and they affected the target differently as a result.
The most obvious difference being that if you wanted to move you needed to break them, or drag yourself off. They were also far more immediately lethal, touching one could damage your life line never mind being impaled on it. And there went another fifteen years of my life for my Vlad the Impaler act.
Lucky me, an Underlord's average lifespan is, oh, maybe two hundred and fifty to three hundred years, still plenty to burn before I dropped dead all on my own without Leviathan's help. But damn it all, I want a bigger buffer!
Leviathan lashed around like mad, he managed to shatter all three spikes in as many seconds.
Which was more than enough time for me to nail the fucker with more than two hundred darts and lose… fifty years? Damn it, keeping the death Madra from my attacks under control for my ruler technique must be making my control slip a bit. Or the stress of my first real fight was getting to me. Either way I needed to focus. I couldn't afford to be sloppy, not if I planned to live.
Leviathan curled in and water formed into a rapidly growing bubble around it. Then with a violent thrust outward with all its limbs the water around it blew outwards in a shockwave.
I took the water on crossed arms. Leviathan used the break in my assault to slap me aside with his tail. My ribs groaned at the impact, but I could keep fighting. That was a pleasant surprise, three cheers for a body reforged in soul fire. I righted myself in only a couple seconds and came up to find a madly twitching Leviathan staring me down. Not great. How much damage had I done? How much more could he take?
Could I actually kill it, or would I just burn out my own life trying?
Leviathan stopped twitching and shook itself like a wet dog. I settled myself. I could doubt things after, if I survived. Right now…
I pushed a bit of soulfire into the technique and seven spears burst from the ground to impale Leviathan. Six in a circle and one directly below.
The fucker jumped.
I sent a wave of darts.
He blasted out with water which did fuck all to stop my attack. They weren't forged like the spears, more condensed. Without a spiritual component to the water they were undeterred.
Running forward I grabbed up two of the forged spears and hurled them one after the other. Water temporarily used up, and twitching madly from my darts, he didn't manage to dodge. One sank into his chest and another into his arm. His twitching became all out spasms.
Leviathan crashed to the ground and I grabbed up a third spear as I charged him. I buried it in his skull before he thrashed forward and knocked me forty feet away and through a wall.
I shook my head and dashed right back out of the office building I'd been knocked into just in time to see the beast running at me a wall of water gathering in his wake. Darts blurred toward him and he dodged aside. His water echo continued on and slammed into me like a bus, slamming me back again.
Growling I pulled myself out of a wall and dragged a length of pipe out along with me. It would make a lousy weapon, but right then I didn't care. Forging an axe head at one end and enforcing the stupid thing as best I could, I jumped out of the hole in the wall and buried my makeshift weapon in the arm Leviathan raised to block.
Naturally the pipe failed to hold up under the stress and sheared off leaving my crappy forged axe head stuck in the monster. Stupid, waste of madra and my lifespan, but I'd just wanted to feel the hit, even just once. Merciless heavens how much more of this could Leviathan take? How much can I?!
… Fuck, my life line's not doing so great.
One last attack, and then I'll have to fall back. Might as well give it my all.
Reaching out I called every bit of death madra, even pulling apart the forged madra from my earlier attacks. Best not to leave that sitting around where some idiot can pick it up anyway.
My striker technique was inspired by stories of hunters in the rainforest and their poison darts. My forger technique was inspired by Vlad the Impaler. My weapon enforcer technique was pretty basic if on theme with European executioners. All related to death for the extra kick the symbolism might give my attacks as I worked through the lord realm and especially as a sage. My ruler technique though… I'm not proud of it. I call it the gas chamber.
It makes so much sense on a practical level, it's perhaps the easiest and most straightforward way to use defuse madra. And it's not like Nazi's were the only ones to kill people with gas, just the most notorious and evil, but even still. Honestly though, as I'd advanced enough to practice it semi regularly, I'd taken it further. Rather than a gas chamber it was more of a pressure cooker these days.
The death madra I'd been carefully controlling and gathering throughout the fight came together around Leviathan in a gaseous cloud. The monster thrashed, and I pushed it in. All the loose madra dove into the Endbringer's flesh. The beast spasmed, then thrashed. It's crazed movements tearing gauges out of the road and nearby buildings.
A glance inward showed my lifeline as a tattered mess. A decade, maybe two. That was all that was left to me. There was nothing more I could do here. Damn it all. I had enough power to wipe out every cape in the city, but against a real threat it still wasn't enough. Damn the Reaper, ignorance really is bliss.
I glared at Leviathan as it shook in place for almost a minute before it stilled.
With a sudden force the monster shook itself like a wet dog, its water echo flying off it cementing the comparison. It glared, and I glared right back. For a moment we stayed like that both daring the other to make a move or back down.
Leviathan turned and fled.
I let out a breath and slumped back against a wall. The adrenaline was fading and with my life line worn down so much I felt like crap.
"Hey are you alright?"
Blond hair and a white and red costume floated into view. No mask, right, New Wave, Laserdream.
"I'm sorry, I saw that black cloud attack of yours, but I wasn't close enough to hit him until he turned to run. Are you, oh geez you're not even in costume. Are you… shit, are you a fresh trigger? Are you hurt?"
I laughed. It was a pretty weak laugh, but it was something.
"I'm not doing great exactly."
I chuckled but then winced. Had I cracked some ribs in the fight? How had I not noticed that sooner?
"Not a new cape but I've never done anything before. My attacks are basically the conceptual energy of death." I shrugged a shoulder at her incredulous look. "If you could find me a rat or something I might have been willing to demonstrate. But I'm not immortal. Using it messes me up too. Between not wanting to kill people and not wanting to die… first fight."
I grinned weakly. Laserdream paled.
"Are you dying?!"
I laughed a little more genuinely.
"No, no, I'm, well I'm not doing great. Think I have some cracked ribs, and if my body didn't repair the damage I'd be dead before I turned thirty five. Still, going to need, I don't know five days to fix this damage? Maybe?"
The Phoenix iron body was almost entirely focused on repairing the damage my path does to my life line and it got stronger with every advancement. But I'd never had to regenerate this much of my lifeline before and I'd never had so many years to burn either.
Still without my iron body my path would be suicide. My odds weren't great even with it but it took a death sentence and turned it into merely flirting with death.
"Is the shelter ok? He busted in and I had to take the fight away from everyone, or I'd probably have turned it into a mass grave on accident. But I didn't really have time to check people on my way out and, Dad…" my throat tightened up. Crystal stepped forward and pulled my free arm over her shoulders.
"Let's go check. Leviathan was heading for the cost and I'm not fast enough to track him. Checking on a compromised shelter's probably the best I can do now. But after that we're getting you to the hospital. We'll get my cousin to patch you up."
I nodded but mostly just focused on putting on foot in front of the other and not jostling my now screaming ribs. I needed to check on Dad. I needed to know that even if I couldn't save the world I had to know that I'd at least bought those specific people a few more years of life.
I needed to know. I needed to be sure. It had to have all been worth something.
Seeing hundreds of relieved faces light up with gratitude made everything better. Hearing Dad shout my name and push through the crowd made the years of nonstop life threatening training worth everything.
{}{}{}{}
"What the fuck?!" Amy Dallon was loud and apparently unused to finding things outside of her understanding.
"Your body is… I don't understand… how the hell… why are your organs all so weak there's nothing wrong with them but this is like looking at someone from a retirement home, I don't understand."
Amy looked almost plaintively between myself her cousin and Legend who had shown up at some point when people realized I was the last one to fight Leviathan.
I shrugged.
"My power is literally manipulating the energy of death. I just can't use it without affecting myself. Give it a week and I should be back to normal."
Amy's head snapped up to stare at my face.
"How?!"
"If it didn't I wouldn't have been able to learn to use it at all." The fact that my Phoenix iron body somehow pulled my life line back to its peak if I gave it enough time wasn't something I had an actual explanation for beyond 'it works.' And all it took was cutting my wrists open every night for two weeks and using my then pure madra to close the wounds and regenerate the blood.
Honestly if I ever meet the Reaper in person, I'm going to hurt the bastard. I don't care what his reasons turned out to be. This stupid path of mine is a sadistic nightmare to walk and if escaping certain death wasn't sufficient motivation to reach its end, maiming the bastard who forced me to walk it was a good fallback whenever giving up started to look more inviting.
"You're a student of the Reaper, aren't you?" Legend asked. In a blink I was off the bed with my hands clenched into the fabric of Legend's costume. I pulled him down slightly to look him square in the eye. The veil on my spirit lifted a fraction and the weight of my spirit, of the force of inevitable death, surged into the room causing everyone present to choke.
"How the hell do you know about the Reaper?!" I demanded.
"Ward, ten years ago, Last Resort." Legend stammered. "He died."
I veiled myself fully once more and let go. Legend stumbled back a step and looked uncomfortable.
"Last Resort was fifteen. His mother brought him in, because he insisted he needed to cut his wrists to progress his abilities to something useful. We didn't believe him, and put him under suicide watch. He tried… something. He got noticeably stronger but then…" Legend shrugged looking incredibly uncomfortable. "He tried something with black energy no one had seen him use before, and then he became incredibly weak. He died a week later. We found his journal. It had notes, about a message left by someone called the Reaper and the training plan he was meant to follow. It suggested that black energy was related to death. No one really believed it but everything else matches so…"
"Taylor," Dad cut in, "tell me you didn't."
I glared at Legend. Who looked a little sheepish, but not at all apologetic.
"The Reaper of Worlds, Judge of the Abidan, supposedly the being closest in all known creation to the concept of Death. He stuck his nose into our reality and because it's outside his organization's control… he decided to stretch himself in a way his normal rules don't allow. He left a message, a memory or recording, that I saw when I got my powers, when Mom died."
I didn't want to get into the source of all powers. That wasn't a safe topic and I wasn't going to explain it. But I needed to touch on it just a bit for this.
"He poked his nose into our reality looking for a break from his duty. Destroying corrupted worlds is important, apparently it prevents corruption spreading to other worlds. But he's still killed worlds. And apparently it weighs on him. So, he came looking for a distraction and got attacked by some kind of massive world ending monster. Then he killed it, because it's what he does and things like that are what he's meant to combat when he isn't purging corrupted worlds." Seeing some of their looks I changed tracks for a moment to cut the inevitable off. "Or at least that's what the message claimed. Believe however much of that you want, just try not to harass me with an existential crisis. I've had mine already. If you want to have one take it to a therapist."
I settled back on my bed.
"Anyway, that monster, it was different from the threats he usually fought, and its death… the thing was ancient beyond measure and killing it created a lot of death aligned energy. On a whim he decided to stretch his abilities as a weapon smith where none of his contemporaries could get pissy about him defying they're rules about interfering. He turned whole chunks of this thing into training aids. Massively powerful treasures that simulated the powers of his home world. But the only power he had on hand to work with was the energy of that thing's death."
I shrugged.
"He sent his creation where it was needed. Laid out a training plan. I can relive the memory of that plan with a thought." I hesitated. "There was one moment. Like a telephone tree, the memory sort of skipped. When he said I was the twenty seventh recipient, he said that the previous recipients all died. If one of them was a ward… I was never sure if I was actually meant to believe that, but I had a lot of close calls getting this far."
"So he really did need to cut his wrists?" Legend asked. His eyes were closed and he carried himself with the air of a defeated man.
I nodded sadly.
"It was one of the worst and most dangerous parts of my training. The only thing riskier was when I had to start controlling that Death energy. But cutting my wrists like that was part of training my body to heal the damage caused by my powers. Without that ability… the damage wouldn't heal and sooner or later I would just drop dead."
"Damn it, so when we stopped him?"
"If he advanced to the next stage of training without it… I'm sorry, but that was a death sentence. He shouldn't have even attempted it."
Dad pushed past Legend to check my wrist before looking plaintively at me.
I smiled weakly.
"The scars healed after I advanced. You remember when the house stank like skunks, rotten eggs, and death? My body forced out a bunch of impurities and gunk and it was disgusting. Trying to clear three inches of black sludge out of the tub before you got home without breaking anything with my new strength was an adventure."
It really had been. If I hadn't found that plumber's snake under the sink I'd never have managed in time.
Dad pulled me into a hug I probably would have found crushing three years ago.
"I'm ok, Dad. I've passed the most dangerous parts. Now the biggest risk is using too much of that energy before I have a chance to recover. Give me a week for my body to do its work and I'll be back to perfect health. If I keep advancing…" I hesitated here but he deserved to know. "If I keep advancing, if I take my power to its limit. I'll become functionally immortal." I looked away. I couldn't… I just couldn't.
Dad squeezed me tighter.
"Oh, Taylor. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you've had to deal with this on your own. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell my grieving Dad that a man who might as well be the god of death ordered me to slit my wrists for power?" I chuckled, it sounded so empty. "I doubt it would have gone over well." Dad only squeezed tighter.
"Why did you listen to him? Couldn't you have just ignored it?" He asked.
"This power is death. If I ignore it, it'll kill me. If I don't advance fast enough, it'll kill me. If I overuse it, it'll kill me." I peaked over Dad's shoulder to look Legend in the eye. "One reason I never went out is because anyone I fought seriously, would die. The other is if I use too much of my power, so would I. So I stayed out of any fights and practiced. I'm not nearly to the end. But I am more than halfway there."
Legend nodded slowly.
"Leviathan ran from you." He said.
"I'm not strong enough to kill it. I'm assuming I took centuries, maybe even a couple thousand years off of whatever passes for its life expectancy with how hard I hit it, but that thing…" I shook my head. "I'm not strong enough."
"But you'll grow stronger." Legend pressed. "Last Resort's notes were pretty vague, but I remember they stressed that he could become much more powerful."
Amy sputtered and Crystal actually stepped forward.
"Hold on, are you actually thinking she could kill an Endbringer? That's nuts! No one has ever even come close!" Crystal snapped.
Dad let go to look at me clearly and Crystal kept talking.
"Where do you even get off trying to put that kind of pressure on someone who just had their first fight!" She shouted.
"Maybe." I spoke up before they could go any farther. Everyone in the room turned to look at me, stunned. I shrugged.
"Right now, what I do is carve time off of my target's lifespan. The next two advancements won't change that, they'll just let me tear off more and I'll hurt myself less doing it. I don't know if that would be enough. But after that… maybe."
"Maybe?" Amy asked.
"My power is basically death magic. But it's got a kind of pseudo science to it right now. You want the reality warping 'I sentence you to death' nonsense? For that I've got to resonate with the fundamental concept of Death. Or so the training plan claims."
I spread my arms.
"The asshole built the whole power to make that the most likely outcome. Only goes to someone grieving a death in the family. Forces you to cut yourself and bleed to near the point of death multiple times. Using my power can kill me so I'm constantly aware of mine and everyone else's mortality. My power can only be used to kill… the whole path is designed to make someone resonate with the concept of Death." I huffed. "But it isn't a guarantee. I could fail to resonate with it. Or resonate with something else. Problem with that is I can only guess at what other things might count as fundamental aspects and how to resonate with them. Because the fucking Reaper didn't think those might be things I should know. And if I don't resonate with something I'll be stuck one step from the end."
Which wouldn't outright kill me. But the Reaper had been pretty clear. With how weakly connected Earth was to the Way I'd need a Sage's connection to leave safely. Without it I'd be trying to carve a hole through steel with chalk. And then I'd inevitably die when the source of powers decided to stop playing games.
"What are your plans now?" Legend asked carefully.
I smile and I know it's a sad, worn out, tired excuse for a smile but it's the best I can do.
"Same as always. Train, don't kill myself by overdoing it, advance to the next stage, hope that someday it's enough."
"And that's it." Legend asked.
"What more do you expect? Should I grab a mask and the greataxe I forged and wipe out the gangs? Just kill them until no one's left? Or do you want to send a teenager after people you want dead who might just as easily kill me? Or maybe you expect me to try bluffing Ziz the way I did Leviathan? Personally, I think she'd force me past my limits."
Legend doesn't seem to have a response to all that. Not that I blame him.
"You might not have a choice." Crystal spoke up, sounding very tired indeed. "Right now the truce is in place, so no one is going to bother you, but that whole shelter saw you fight. Someone will talk and eventually your identity will get out. Give things a few weeks to calm down and the recruiters will come calling."
Well, that was true. My situation is more complicated now.
"… How does the PRT and law in general respond to capes killing other capes and gangs in self defense?" I asked. "Because if it's just some thugs I can probably fight them without breaking them too badly. But if I have to resort to anything more than love taps, people are going to die." No point sugar coating reality. "And if they go for Dad I'm not going to be nice about it." Even if we aren't on great terms.
"Poorly." Legend admitted. "But suicide by cape is something of an unofficial internal designation that I feel would apply so long as you aren't the aggressor. But it would still lead to repercussions."
"Such as?" Dad asked.
"Being very firmly recruited into the Wards. Possibly worse if someone decides to start a witch hunt before the real story can get out. Or if it's a slaughter. Honestly a lone survivor and a pile of corpses… even knowing the facts it just doesn't look good. And unfortunately that counts for a lot."
Dad bristled. I just sighed. Honestly, what else was I even meant to expect?
"We'll get back to you." I said flatly before Dad could insult the Leader of the Protectorate. Legend nodded and left.
Amy shook herself.
"Well, this has been something new, there aren't any more critical cases but I should go and see if anyone else needs a few bones mended. Good luck." Her piece said the Healer ducked out of the room.
Crystal flashed Dad and I a sheepish grin.
"I'll get going too. I want to catch up with my family. It was nice meeting you!" She called out as she followed her cousin.
Dad sighed.
"Now what, kiddo?"
Great question. But I have no idea.
"See if the house is still there. Rest till I'm recovered… train so my power won't kill me."
"And the rest? Wards and villains?"
"I don't know, Dad. Wards won't want an executioner on the payroll but they won't want me out of their control either. I wouldn't help the gangs even if they put me in charge. I just want to sleep for a week."
Dad chuckled weakly.
"Well, it's a start. Guess we'll figure out the rest later."
"Later." I agreed.
Worm x Cradle, Taylor on a Death Path. Which frankly means I have to make up a whole slew of details because canon gave us very little to work with when it comes to death madra. For those of you who know enough cradle lore to care about the details. The Reaper made a death path shard, or possibly multiple death path shards, from the corpse of an entity. He tossed one at earth. Taylor got to peak iron and the death path shard basically bonded to her the way Lindon did to Orthos only the thing has enough power crammed into it to take care of all her needs, it's the treasure she cycles aura from, it helps rapidly purify and condense her madra to let her advance very rapidly, it's bullshit, but it was made by the Reaper from the corpse of an Entity so really it's to be expected.
Thanks as always go to Functionality. And with this out of my head hopefully I can fully focus on star wars for a bit. I missed May 4th!
Sitting in the bunker next to Dad surrounded by hundreds of other people all on the verge of panic… I felt like a coward.
Ever since Mom's death and meeting, well not meeting he only left a recording, the Reaper of the Abidan. I'd thrown myself fully into the training he had left for me. Desperately trying to complete the training he left me without killing myself and before everything came crashing down. I'd stopped putting much effort in at school. I'd stopped hanging out with Emma, not that she seemed any more interested in spending time with me these days either. Though she had stopped acting like a bitch after the third time I broke Sophia's nose.
I barely made time for Dad. Though honestly, I almost didn't need to make time for him given how badly Mom's death had shaken him. So, it had been just me, pushing ahead as quickly as I possibly could with the aid of the one of a kind treasure the Reaper made from the shard of a dead world eating parasite. I'd pushed along the path he had laid out for me and clawed my way through the foundation stages and all the way to the peak of True Gold with a speed I knew would have been incredible and dangerous on Cradle. But I wasn't a true sacred artist. My powers were only a facsimile of his home world's system of powers. I could push farther, faster. I just had to be willing to work myself to the bone.
It was also the only way to avoid my power killing me. It doesn't play nicely with the living, myself unfortunately included.
But now Leviathan was here. And I wasn't strong enough. Even advancing now probably wouldn't make me strong enough. Not if I had the scale worked out properly in my head.
Killing the source of powers would take an Abidan judge, a team of Abidan fighters, or a half dozen Monarchs acting in concert. The Reaper had been clear about that. Assuming the Endbringers are some of the entity's strongest creations. Killing one would probably take a Sage or Herald.
The best I could reasonably hope to achieve now was scaring it off with the bluff that I could attack indefinitely. But for the world… my best would be reaching Monarch and evacuating as many people as possible.
Honestly what was the point! Two and a half years of my life I'd thrown away breaking every record for advancement ever set with the help of a treasure whole worlds would have gone to war for… and I'd done nothing with these powers except chase improvement as a way to survive. I haven't done anything else since… oh.
Folding myself into a sitting position I pulled on my soulfire, and spoke.
"I practice the sacred arts to distract myself from Mom's death, and my grief."
Soulfire burned through me like a tidal wave.
My body refined itself, burning away imperfections and strengthening itself. Dad, even as blind to the energies I manipulated as he and the others cramped in tight with us… well they all felt the energies moving in such ridiculous quantities. They looked around half panicked, thinking it was a sign of Leviathan's presence.
And the world decided to mock me because right then something banged against the shelter door. All I could do as the soulfire continued its work was laugh. In terror? Anger? Irony? Hope? I couldn't be sure.
If I really wanted to do something with all this power. If I was going to force myself to move on from Mom's death and really start changing things, even if I'd have to flee the world in the end… At least I could make a difference in this moment. I could buy these people a few more years. Maybe take them with me if I got that far. It might not be much, but damn it all it was something. And turning away when I could do even that much would be nearly as bad as killing them myself.
The door to the shelter shuddered under another hit as soulfire airbrushed me, inside and out.
A double hit to the doors.
Damn it. Hurry up. If I die here because Leviathan killed me mid advancement… Could there be a stupider way to die? Dumb question, fighting Leviathan as a Gold in an enclosed space would be stupider. Besides I didn't just want to fight, or run. I want to kill the fucker. Even if it's impossible for me as I am, I want it like nothing else in the world.
The door opened a crack and water started pouring in.
Come on, come on, come on!
The door blew inward. And the beast stuck its ugly four eyed asymmetrical head in.
My advancement snapped into place. I called out and my power answered faster and stronger than ever before. The difference is like night and day but I don't have time to marvel over it.
In a second I moved to put myself between everyone and the Endbringer. I would need to be careful and control my attacks precisely. Even a brush from one of my attacks would kill these people. Hell, they would kill just about anyone on the planet. Maybe everyone now that I was into the lord realm though powers are weird so who could be certain.
I couldn't even drop my veil this close to so many people. An underlord on a death path unveiled? I'd probably give anyone over sixty a heart attack.
The only option is to attack and hope to drive Leviathan back.
Fifty darts of death madra rocketed towards the beast in a heartbeat. Leviathan only had time to startle back a step before impact as my poison dart technique landed. The insubstantial energy passed into the monster, and became diffuse, the energy rampaging throughout his body attacking whatever passed for its life line.
If it was an ordinary human just one dart would kill on contact, but for this? My very first technique from when I was a pathetically weak jade was actually a solid option. And to think, all this much more powerful version cost me was a dozen years off of my maximum lifespan. My control was so much better as an Underlady than it had ever been at gold.
Leviathan reared back in shock and hopefully pain. It pushed off and away from me leaving a mass of water to flood into the shelter, but I couldn't stop to worry about that now.
I grabbed control of what little death Madra was floating free in the air from my attack. It wasn't nearly enough for my Ruler technique, but if this dragged on long enough it might be a start and honestly leaving even this little bit free and out of my direct control was asking for some poor unfortunate to drop dead.
I desperately wanted the greataxe I'd hidden at home, forging it in secret and strengthening it with my meager true gold soul fire had taken ages. Now that my soul space wasn't the size of a tennis ball I'd keep it with me always, but I couldn't worry about the options I didn't have available to me right now. I needed to focus on what I could do.
No weapon so no weapon enforcer technique. And on a death path any kind of body enforcer technique would be the same as strapping on a suicide vest and hoping you got in a punch before dying. My ruler technique still needed more ambient death madra. Striker and forger techniques it is.
I stomped my foot in a mostly unnecessary movement for the sheer dramatic flair and my madra rushed along the ground then upward as spears of black energy. One blasted into each leg and another straight up right where the monster's ass would have been. These were solid unlike my first attack, and they affected the target differently as a result.
The most obvious difference being that if you wanted to move you needed to break them, or drag yourself off. They were also far more immediately lethal, touching one could damage your life line never mind being impaled on it. And there went another fifteen years of my life for my Vlad the Impaler act.
Lucky me, an Underlord's average lifespan is, oh, maybe two hundred and fifty to three hundred years, still plenty to burn before I dropped dead all on my own without Leviathan's help. But damn it all, I want a bigger buffer!
Leviathan lashed around like mad, he managed to shatter all three spikes in as many seconds.
Which was more than enough time for me to nail the fucker with more than two hundred darts and lose… fifty years? Damn it, keeping the death Madra from my attacks under control for my ruler technique must be making my control slip a bit. Or the stress of my first real fight was getting to me. Either way I needed to focus. I couldn't afford to be sloppy, not if I planned to live.
Leviathan curled in and water formed into a rapidly growing bubble around it. Then with a violent thrust outward with all its limbs the water around it blew outwards in a shockwave.
I took the water on crossed arms. Leviathan used the break in my assault to slap me aside with his tail. My ribs groaned at the impact, but I could keep fighting. That was a pleasant surprise, three cheers for a body reforged in soul fire. I righted myself in only a couple seconds and came up to find a madly twitching Leviathan staring me down. Not great. How much damage had I done? How much more could he take?
Could I actually kill it, or would I just burn out my own life trying?
Leviathan stopped twitching and shook itself like a wet dog. I settled myself. I could doubt things after, if I survived. Right now…
I pushed a bit of soulfire into the technique and seven spears burst from the ground to impale Leviathan. Six in a circle and one directly below.
The fucker jumped.
I sent a wave of darts.
He blasted out with water which did fuck all to stop my attack. They weren't forged like the spears, more condensed. Without a spiritual component to the water they were undeterred.
Running forward I grabbed up two of the forged spears and hurled them one after the other. Water temporarily used up, and twitching madly from my darts, he didn't manage to dodge. One sank into his chest and another into his arm. His twitching became all out spasms.
Leviathan crashed to the ground and I grabbed up a third spear as I charged him. I buried it in his skull before he thrashed forward and knocked me forty feet away and through a wall.
I shook my head and dashed right back out of the office building I'd been knocked into just in time to see the beast running at me a wall of water gathering in his wake. Darts blurred toward him and he dodged aside. His water echo continued on and slammed into me like a bus, slamming me back again.
Growling I pulled myself out of a wall and dragged a length of pipe out along with me. It would make a lousy weapon, but right then I didn't care. Forging an axe head at one end and enforcing the stupid thing as best I could, I jumped out of the hole in the wall and buried my makeshift weapon in the arm Leviathan raised to block.
Naturally the pipe failed to hold up under the stress and sheared off leaving my crappy forged axe head stuck in the monster. Stupid, waste of madra and my lifespan, but I'd just wanted to feel the hit, even just once. Merciless heavens how much more of this could Leviathan take? How much can I?!
… Fuck, my life line's not doing so great.
One last attack, and then I'll have to fall back. Might as well give it my all.
Reaching out I called every bit of death madra, even pulling apart the forged madra from my earlier attacks. Best not to leave that sitting around where some idiot can pick it up anyway.
My striker technique was inspired by stories of hunters in the rainforest and their poison darts. My forger technique was inspired by Vlad the Impaler. My weapon enforcer technique was pretty basic if on theme with European executioners. All related to death for the extra kick the symbolism might give my attacks as I worked through the lord realm and especially as a sage. My ruler technique though… I'm not proud of it. I call it the gas chamber.
It makes so much sense on a practical level, it's perhaps the easiest and most straightforward way to use defuse madra. And it's not like Nazi's were the only ones to kill people with gas, just the most notorious and evil, but even still. Honestly though, as I'd advanced enough to practice it semi regularly, I'd taken it further. Rather than a gas chamber it was more of a pressure cooker these days.
The death madra I'd been carefully controlling and gathering throughout the fight came together around Leviathan in a gaseous cloud. The monster thrashed, and I pushed it in. All the loose madra dove into the Endbringer's flesh. The beast spasmed, then thrashed. It's crazed movements tearing gauges out of the road and nearby buildings.
A glance inward showed my lifeline as a tattered mess. A decade, maybe two. That was all that was left to me. There was nothing more I could do here. Damn it all. I had enough power to wipe out every cape in the city, but against a real threat it still wasn't enough. Damn the Reaper, ignorance really is bliss.
I glared at Leviathan as it shook in place for almost a minute before it stilled.
With a sudden force the monster shook itself like a wet dog, its water echo flying off it cementing the comparison. It glared, and I glared right back. For a moment we stayed like that both daring the other to make a move or back down.
Leviathan turned and fled.
I let out a breath and slumped back against a wall. The adrenaline was fading and with my life line worn down so much I felt like crap.
"Hey are you alright?"
Blond hair and a white and red costume floated into view. No mask, right, New Wave, Laserdream.
"I'm sorry, I saw that black cloud attack of yours, but I wasn't close enough to hit him until he turned to run. Are you, oh geez you're not even in costume. Are you… shit, are you a fresh trigger? Are you hurt?"
I laughed. It was a pretty weak laugh, but it was something.
"I'm not doing great exactly."
I chuckled but then winced. Had I cracked some ribs in the fight? How had I not noticed that sooner?
"Not a new cape but I've never done anything before. My attacks are basically the conceptual energy of death." I shrugged a shoulder at her incredulous look. "If you could find me a rat or something I might have been willing to demonstrate. But I'm not immortal. Using it messes me up too. Between not wanting to kill people and not wanting to die… first fight."
I grinned weakly. Laserdream paled.
"Are you dying?!"
I laughed a little more genuinely.
"No, no, I'm, well I'm not doing great. Think I have some cracked ribs, and if my body didn't repair the damage I'd be dead before I turned thirty five. Still, going to need, I don't know five days to fix this damage? Maybe?"
The Phoenix iron body was almost entirely focused on repairing the damage my path does to my life line and it got stronger with every advancement. But I'd never had to regenerate this much of my lifeline before and I'd never had so many years to burn either.
Still without my iron body my path would be suicide. My odds weren't great even with it but it took a death sentence and turned it into merely flirting with death.
"Is the shelter ok? He busted in and I had to take the fight away from everyone, or I'd probably have turned it into a mass grave on accident. But I didn't really have time to check people on my way out and, Dad…" my throat tightened up. Crystal stepped forward and pulled my free arm over her shoulders.
"Let's go check. Leviathan was heading for the cost and I'm not fast enough to track him. Checking on a compromised shelter's probably the best I can do now. But after that we're getting you to the hospital. We'll get my cousin to patch you up."
I nodded but mostly just focused on putting on foot in front of the other and not jostling my now screaming ribs. I needed to check on Dad. I needed to know that even if I couldn't save the world I had to know that I'd at least bought those specific people a few more years of life.
I needed to know. I needed to be sure. It had to have all been worth something.
Seeing hundreds of relieved faces light up with gratitude made everything better. Hearing Dad shout my name and push through the crowd made the years of nonstop life threatening training worth everything.
{}{}{}{}
"What the fuck?!" Amy Dallon was loud and apparently unused to finding things outside of her understanding.
"Your body is… I don't understand… how the hell… why are your organs all so weak there's nothing wrong with them but this is like looking at someone from a retirement home, I don't understand."
Amy looked almost plaintively between myself her cousin and Legend who had shown up at some point when people realized I was the last one to fight Leviathan.
I shrugged.
"My power is literally manipulating the energy of death. I just can't use it without affecting myself. Give it a week and I should be back to normal."
Amy's head snapped up to stare at my face.
"How?!"
"If it didn't I wouldn't have been able to learn to use it at all." The fact that my Phoenix iron body somehow pulled my life line back to its peak if I gave it enough time wasn't something I had an actual explanation for beyond 'it works.' And all it took was cutting my wrists open every night for two weeks and using my then pure madra to close the wounds and regenerate the blood.
Honestly if I ever meet the Reaper in person, I'm going to hurt the bastard. I don't care what his reasons turned out to be. This stupid path of mine is a sadistic nightmare to walk and if escaping certain death wasn't sufficient motivation to reach its end, maiming the bastard who forced me to walk it was a good fallback whenever giving up started to look more inviting.
"You're a student of the Reaper, aren't you?" Legend asked. In a blink I was off the bed with my hands clenched into the fabric of Legend's costume. I pulled him down slightly to look him square in the eye. The veil on my spirit lifted a fraction and the weight of my spirit, of the force of inevitable death, surged into the room causing everyone present to choke.
"How the hell do you know about the Reaper?!" I demanded.
"Ward, ten years ago, Last Resort." Legend stammered. "He died."
I veiled myself fully once more and let go. Legend stumbled back a step and looked uncomfortable.
"Last Resort was fifteen. His mother brought him in, because he insisted he needed to cut his wrists to progress his abilities to something useful. We didn't believe him, and put him under suicide watch. He tried… something. He got noticeably stronger but then…" Legend shrugged looking incredibly uncomfortable. "He tried something with black energy no one had seen him use before, and then he became incredibly weak. He died a week later. We found his journal. It had notes, about a message left by someone called the Reaper and the training plan he was meant to follow. It suggested that black energy was related to death. No one really believed it but everything else matches so…"
"Taylor," Dad cut in, "tell me you didn't."
I glared at Legend. Who looked a little sheepish, but not at all apologetic.
"The Reaper of Worlds, Judge of the Abidan, supposedly the being closest in all known creation to the concept of Death. He stuck his nose into our reality and because it's outside his organization's control… he decided to stretch himself in a way his normal rules don't allow. He left a message, a memory or recording, that I saw when I got my powers, when Mom died."
I didn't want to get into the source of all powers. That wasn't a safe topic and I wasn't going to explain it. But I needed to touch on it just a bit for this.
"He poked his nose into our reality looking for a break from his duty. Destroying corrupted worlds is important, apparently it prevents corruption spreading to other worlds. But he's still killed worlds. And apparently it weighs on him. So, he came looking for a distraction and got attacked by some kind of massive world ending monster. Then he killed it, because it's what he does and things like that are what he's meant to combat when he isn't purging corrupted worlds." Seeing some of their looks I changed tracks for a moment to cut the inevitable off. "Or at least that's what the message claimed. Believe however much of that you want, just try not to harass me with an existential crisis. I've had mine already. If you want to have one take it to a therapist."
I settled back on my bed.
"Anyway, that monster, it was different from the threats he usually fought, and its death… the thing was ancient beyond measure and killing it created a lot of death aligned energy. On a whim he decided to stretch his abilities as a weapon smith where none of his contemporaries could get pissy about him defying they're rules about interfering. He turned whole chunks of this thing into training aids. Massively powerful treasures that simulated the powers of his home world. But the only power he had on hand to work with was the energy of that thing's death."
I shrugged.
"He sent his creation where it was needed. Laid out a training plan. I can relive the memory of that plan with a thought." I hesitated. "There was one moment. Like a telephone tree, the memory sort of skipped. When he said I was the twenty seventh recipient, he said that the previous recipients all died. If one of them was a ward… I was never sure if I was actually meant to believe that, but I had a lot of close calls getting this far."
"So he really did need to cut his wrists?" Legend asked. His eyes were closed and he carried himself with the air of a defeated man.
I nodded sadly.
"It was one of the worst and most dangerous parts of my training. The only thing riskier was when I had to start controlling that Death energy. But cutting my wrists like that was part of training my body to heal the damage caused by my powers. Without that ability… the damage wouldn't heal and sooner or later I would just drop dead."
"Damn it, so when we stopped him?"
"If he advanced to the next stage of training without it… I'm sorry, but that was a death sentence. He shouldn't have even attempted it."
Dad pushed past Legend to check my wrist before looking plaintively at me.
I smiled weakly.
"The scars healed after I advanced. You remember when the house stank like skunks, rotten eggs, and death? My body forced out a bunch of impurities and gunk and it was disgusting. Trying to clear three inches of black sludge out of the tub before you got home without breaking anything with my new strength was an adventure."
It really had been. If I hadn't found that plumber's snake under the sink I'd never have managed in time.
Dad pulled me into a hug I probably would have found crushing three years ago.
"I'm ok, Dad. I've passed the most dangerous parts. Now the biggest risk is using too much of that energy before I have a chance to recover. Give me a week for my body to do its work and I'll be back to perfect health. If I keep advancing…" I hesitated here but he deserved to know. "If I keep advancing, if I take my power to its limit. I'll become functionally immortal." I looked away. I couldn't… I just couldn't.
Dad squeezed me tighter.
"Oh, Taylor. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you've had to deal with this on your own. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell my grieving Dad that a man who might as well be the god of death ordered me to slit my wrists for power?" I chuckled, it sounded so empty. "I doubt it would have gone over well." Dad only squeezed tighter.
"Why did you listen to him? Couldn't you have just ignored it?" He asked.
"This power is death. If I ignore it, it'll kill me. If I don't advance fast enough, it'll kill me. If I overuse it, it'll kill me." I peaked over Dad's shoulder to look Legend in the eye. "One reason I never went out is because anyone I fought seriously, would die. The other is if I use too much of my power, so would I. So I stayed out of any fights and practiced. I'm not nearly to the end. But I am more than halfway there."
Legend nodded slowly.
"Leviathan ran from you." He said.
"I'm not strong enough to kill it. I'm assuming I took centuries, maybe even a couple thousand years off of whatever passes for its life expectancy with how hard I hit it, but that thing…" I shook my head. "I'm not strong enough."
"But you'll grow stronger." Legend pressed. "Last Resort's notes were pretty vague, but I remember they stressed that he could become much more powerful."
Amy sputtered and Crystal actually stepped forward.
"Hold on, are you actually thinking she could kill an Endbringer? That's nuts! No one has ever even come close!" Crystal snapped.
Dad let go to look at me clearly and Crystal kept talking.
"Where do you even get off trying to put that kind of pressure on someone who just had their first fight!" She shouted.
"Maybe." I spoke up before they could go any farther. Everyone in the room turned to look at me, stunned. I shrugged.
"Right now, what I do is carve time off of my target's lifespan. The next two advancements won't change that, they'll just let me tear off more and I'll hurt myself less doing it. I don't know if that would be enough. But after that… maybe."
"Maybe?" Amy asked.
"My power is basically death magic. But it's got a kind of pseudo science to it right now. You want the reality warping 'I sentence you to death' nonsense? For that I've got to resonate with the fundamental concept of Death. Or so the training plan claims."
I spread my arms.
"The asshole built the whole power to make that the most likely outcome. Only goes to someone grieving a death in the family. Forces you to cut yourself and bleed to near the point of death multiple times. Using my power can kill me so I'm constantly aware of mine and everyone else's mortality. My power can only be used to kill… the whole path is designed to make someone resonate with the concept of Death." I huffed. "But it isn't a guarantee. I could fail to resonate with it. Or resonate with something else. Problem with that is I can only guess at what other things might count as fundamental aspects and how to resonate with them. Because the fucking Reaper didn't think those might be things I should know. And if I don't resonate with something I'll be stuck one step from the end."
Which wouldn't outright kill me. But the Reaper had been pretty clear. With how weakly connected Earth was to the Way I'd need a Sage's connection to leave safely. Without it I'd be trying to carve a hole through steel with chalk. And then I'd inevitably die when the source of powers decided to stop playing games.
"What are your plans now?" Legend asked carefully.
I smile and I know it's a sad, worn out, tired excuse for a smile but it's the best I can do.
"Same as always. Train, don't kill myself by overdoing it, advance to the next stage, hope that someday it's enough."
"And that's it." Legend asked.
"What more do you expect? Should I grab a mask and the greataxe I forged and wipe out the gangs? Just kill them until no one's left? Or do you want to send a teenager after people you want dead who might just as easily kill me? Or maybe you expect me to try bluffing Ziz the way I did Leviathan? Personally, I think she'd force me past my limits."
Legend doesn't seem to have a response to all that. Not that I blame him.
"You might not have a choice." Crystal spoke up, sounding very tired indeed. "Right now the truce is in place, so no one is going to bother you, but that whole shelter saw you fight. Someone will talk and eventually your identity will get out. Give things a few weeks to calm down and the recruiters will come calling."
Well, that was true. My situation is more complicated now.
"… How does the PRT and law in general respond to capes killing other capes and gangs in self defense?" I asked. "Because if it's just some thugs I can probably fight them without breaking them too badly. But if I have to resort to anything more than love taps, people are going to die." No point sugar coating reality. "And if they go for Dad I'm not going to be nice about it." Even if we aren't on great terms.
"Poorly." Legend admitted. "But suicide by cape is something of an unofficial internal designation that I feel would apply so long as you aren't the aggressor. But it would still lead to repercussions."
"Such as?" Dad asked.
"Being very firmly recruited into the Wards. Possibly worse if someone decides to start a witch hunt before the real story can get out. Or if it's a slaughter. Honestly a lone survivor and a pile of corpses… even knowing the facts it just doesn't look good. And unfortunately that counts for a lot."
Dad bristled. I just sighed. Honestly, what else was I even meant to expect?
"We'll get back to you." I said flatly before Dad could insult the Leader of the Protectorate. Legend nodded and left.
Amy shook herself.
"Well, this has been something new, there aren't any more critical cases but I should go and see if anyone else needs a few bones mended. Good luck." Her piece said the Healer ducked out of the room.
Crystal flashed Dad and I a sheepish grin.
"I'll get going too. I want to catch up with my family. It was nice meeting you!" She called out as she followed her cousin.
Dad sighed.
"Now what, kiddo?"
Great question. But I have no idea.
"See if the house is still there. Rest till I'm recovered… train so my power won't kill me."
"And the rest? Wards and villains?"
"I don't know, Dad. Wards won't want an executioner on the payroll but they won't want me out of their control either. I wouldn't help the gangs even if they put me in charge. I just want to sleep for a week."
Dad chuckled weakly.
"Well, it's a start. Guess we'll figure out the rest later."
"Later." I agreed.
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GamingPizza1998
(Verified Pizza) (Verified Cape) (Verified Case53)
- Location
- Earth
Are words meant to be fucked up with random symbols?
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
No my copy paste went nuts for some damn reason possibly because I did it from my phone. Posting on my lunch break saw the first and immediately started editing think I got them all now but I could have missed a few and it's entirely possible I deleted some quotation marks.
Either way I've done what I can and the rest will have to wait until my shift ends.
Is this a crossover with He Who Fights With Monsters? I ask because in that, there is a multidimensional being that is basically the Grim Reaper+. He has a cult and some special ritual magic as well.
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
- Location
- Oregon
No it's with Cradle, a western take on the Xianxia genre. It's definitely well acclaimed, but personally I found it leaned way too much into some of the worst parts of the genre as a whole so I'm not a fan myself. This was an interesting cross though, I'd say it isn't on the same level as Skittering Spouse or Archer. It's definitely got potential, but maybe it could be started properly after one of the currently active Fics gets finished.
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Relax. I have ideas, sometimes they don't leave me alone till I get a first chapter for it nocked out to see if it could work. Or how well it works.
The concept here works but the different circumstances really change Taylor's character and I'm not thrilled with that. Also the plot line pst this point would be chaotic battle after chaotic battle and that's the aspect of cultivation fics that does the least for me though at least with Taylor's power they would tend to be short battles which is what I want most from a fight scene.
Honestly it's not a popularity contest where if something gets rave reviews I drop my existing projects.
- Location
- Tel'aran'rhiod
I like it, not sure Reaper would just throw something like that out there without doing more to help whoever got it but if its right before he pulls his houdini impression he might be in a bad enough place to do so. Looking forward to seeing more if the muse strikes.
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
- Location
- Oregon
I wasn't too worried about it, and you're absolutely right that, while it definitely plays to Taylor's strengths, the constant escalation of Xianxia is not conducive to the rest of the stuff necessary for a solid plot. It's why there are usually one of two common side aspects that get involved in most Xianxia stories, Crafting and Romance.
Okay so Taylor has thrown herself into training as a way to get meaning out of her life and to avoid her shitty life.
That's a pretty good description of power rankings I'd say.
That's a pretty fitting revelation.
Advancement is useful like that.
Props to Taylor for her creativity.
Surprised that she's being that open with her powers.
The Reaper knows how to choose his stuff.
Fitting that Bet killed the last Reaper's Student given that it's Bet and by default pretty horrible. Legend talking to Taylor makes sense since he's the least culpable of Triumvirate and is charismatic.
The Reaper is important like that.
The Reaper really hates his job but it's really important. People learning about this information having an existential crisis is understandable.
It's a really interesting story idea.
Yeah having the Sacred Arts for that long and the Reaper's message would really change Taylor.
- Location
- United States
I have noticed that is a thing with phones on occasion. The " and the ' are really hated by them for some fucking reason. Half the reason I bought a Chrome book was to avoid that problem.
verycoolname
Not actually cool
I liked this a lot more than I thought I would. I'm not sure why I liked it either.
- Location
- Europe
Uff... This is the type of outside context problem that that really can break you.
Legend has to live with the certainty that they unknowingly kept someone from living.
Legend has to live with the certainty that they unknowingly kept someone from living.
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's brevity and music but gosh damn this is the work of the fanfic pantheon. I want a fic like this now.
Murderous tinker bell
Murderous tinker bell
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The worst part of that little 'verse under that song? Wendy is the villain not Tinkerbell, to me. Tinkerbell is holding on to her family as hard as she can, Peter included, because she doesn't want to die, and if Wendy succeeds? Tink dies. And Tinkerbell knows that with all of her soul.
- Location
- United States
I feel like I was told at some point the original story or at least one of the pre Disney versions was like that. Tinkerbell was proper Fey in behavior which we were to consider as evil.
I've never read any of those older versions so it might have been wrong but it fits with the dark warning style those old fables were done in.
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's not necessarily about topping so much as reframing. Like the wizard of oz and wicked.
So say Cinderella the prince falls in love because of a spell charm or potion. So She seizes a better life for herself via mind control and rape.
…. Please someone tell me that's not in the original I honestly haven't read the original. If it is give me a bit I'm sure I can think of more ways to make it fucked up. Like he marries her assassinates the sisters and step mother leaving her whatever inheritance and then by marriage it all becomes his but she was only chosen because the bastard has the a foot fetish or something
So say Cinderella the prince falls in love because of a spell charm or potion. So She seizes a better life for herself via mind control and rape.
…. Please someone tell me that's not in the original I honestly haven't read the original. If it is give me a bit I'm sure I can think of more ways to make it fucked up. Like he marries her assassinates the sisters and step mother leaving her whatever inheritance and then by marriage it all becomes his but she was only chosen because the bastard has the a foot fetish or something
I don't think that was in the original (or the series of different fairy tales that all got merged into Cinderella). I took a class in college for fun on folk lore and fairy tales, and part of what we did was read something like 10 early versions of each major fairy tale and compare them to the more modern renditions). A lot of them were pretty bad, though I think Cinderella was mostly in the punishments against the stepmother/siblings. The rapey fairy tale was Sleeping Beauty, because in some of the early versions of it, it wasn't a kiss that woke her up, but the pain of giving birth (or sometimes by one of her infants sucking on her finger and managing to accidentally extract the magic splinter keeping her asleep). So yeah.
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- Location
- Canada
From what I recall from a review of original Cinderella, the big things are the Stepsisters lacerate their feet to force them into the glass slippers (cannot remember if they do it beforehand or the slippers slice them up) and then, after Cinderella marries the Prince, her animal friends attack and possibly kill the stepmother/stepsisters.
The one I read as a child had the stepsisters taking a knife to their feet to fit their feet into the shoe. All the blood revealed them.
The OLD stories are full of stuff that by todays western standards are considered to be horror stories.
The OLD stories are full of stuff that by todays western standards are considered to be horror stories.
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The pantheon of fanfiction
I won't let go I need more content
I'm going to fix everything
Burn my childhood, make it dark.
They were made for one another
I found a nail lets see where it leads
They suffer and cry, you die a little inside, let world be mine, I'll take my time, tear apart and piece it back together again~ This fucked up family and friends~
But stay alive, because in time, you will find, we do survive, and learn to thrive on it all~
Make it bleed, make it scream, babe you don't fear a thing, we're all here too dream~ why don't you scream?~ you see the writing on the wall?~
This is our faaaaaaal~ we all just play aloooooong, let your emotions fly! You'll feel alive! Going to make you fall~
But you'll loooooooove the riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!~ because when you step inside, I'll fill your mind with comfort and strife, it's all just a way, that you slip away, from your liiiiiiiife~
I'm on your side, let's be divine, it's all for the riiiiide, let the world pass on by, it's no fun outside, but I'm your guy, I'll let you fly, going to be just fine, cuss we're off on a ride, to see the other side, and it's going just right~
You're in the palm of my hand, emotions dance and stand, it's all at my command, don't you hit unsubscribe, or you'll miss the fight, yes I'm drunk alright, but can't you just see the dance, characters and chance, it's all at my command~
I'll spin you a yarn full of fire an flame, existence and morals there's nothing to blame, it's all on the line! So step up in time! See you're place in the song, don't fear the gong, it's all flowing alloooooooong, I'm here till the end, just be my friend and we'll see where we go, because we ruuuun the show, and in the end…
That's how it began, that's how it should end, we all play preteeeeeeeeeeeend!~
So join in my game, it's all a play, I'll show you my mind, so please step inside, it's no fun on my own, this is my way to show, just let me expose, all that I am, and all that I can, because in the eeeeeeeend~
I put on show, I think you should know~ I love what I do, and all of you too~ so just so you know, it's not all for show, please just let me know, when you are sold, and I'll keep making friends~ this is my shoooow~ but don't you knoooow, you get to lend a hand, so stay and demand or just stand, or let it gooooo~ because at the end of the night, your my people that's right, because you understaaaaand, so don't you dare go, just run to and fro!
And let me know!!!!!!!!!!~
Did you like the show?~
I won't let go I need more content
I'm going to fix everything
Burn my childhood, make it dark.
They were made for one another
I found a nail lets see where it leads
They suffer and cry, you die a little inside, let world be mine, I'll take my time, tear apart and piece it back together again~ This fucked up family and friends~
But stay alive, because in time, you will find, we do survive, and learn to thrive on it all~
Make it bleed, make it scream, babe you don't fear a thing, we're all here too dream~ why don't you scream?~ you see the writing on the wall?~
This is our faaaaaaal~ we all just play aloooooong, let your emotions fly! You'll feel alive! Going to make you fall~
But you'll loooooooove the riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!~ because when you step inside, I'll fill your mind with comfort and strife, it's all just a way, that you slip away, from your liiiiiiiife~
I'm on your side, let's be divine, it's all for the riiiiide, let the world pass on by, it's no fun outside, but I'm your guy, I'll let you fly, going to be just fine, cuss we're off on a ride, to see the other side, and it's going just right~
You're in the palm of my hand, emotions dance and stand, it's all at my command, don't you hit unsubscribe, or you'll miss the fight, yes I'm drunk alright, but can't you just see the dance, characters and chance, it's all at my command~
I'll spin you a yarn full of fire an flame, existence and morals there's nothing to blame, it's all on the line! So step up in time! See you're place in the song, don't fear the gong, it's all flowing alloooooooong, I'm here till the end, just be my friend and we'll see where we go, because we ruuuun the show, and in the end…
That's how it began, that's how it should end, we all play preteeeeeeeeeeeend!~
So join in my game, it's all a play, I'll show you my mind, so please step inside, it's no fun on my own, this is my way to show, just let me expose, all that I am, and all that I can, because in the eeeeeeeend~
I put on show, I think you should know~ I love what I do, and all of you too~ so just so you know, it's not all for show, please just let me know, when you are sold, and I'll keep making friends~ this is my shoooow~ but don't you knoooow, you get to lend a hand, so stay and demand or just stand, or let it gooooo~ because at the end of the night, your my people that's right, because you understaaaaand, so don't you dare go, just run to and fro!
And let me know!!!!!!!!!!~
Did you like the show?~
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FUCK IT WE BALL, LET'S DO THIS!!!!
