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Ring-Maker [Worm/Lord of the Rings Alt-Power] [Complete]

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Lithos Maitreya said:
I kinda want to crosspost to my fanfiction and AO3 accounts.

Actually, fuckit, I'll do that.
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Well, I'm quite glad you did, because that's where I spotted it. I'm certainly having a lot of fun reading this; I may not be terribly familiar with the lore and artifacts of Middle-earth, but damn if the character interactions and development don't hold this up well enough that it doesn't matter.
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
"Annatar." Piggot's voice. "I'm sorry I don't have more time. During the bombing spree, Bakuda struck the Dockworker's Association building. Your father was at work."
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If I might raise this minor piece of criticism here, on rereading I'm...honestly finding it a little off that the Protectorate are even talking to Taylor about the injury or potential death of her father. They know that, like every other cape in existence, she isn't anything close to mentally stable. Combine that with the fact that she's just come out of a high intensity combat situation, and she's even less in her right mind.

I can't imagine any regulations that would suggest or even allow for informing a minor of the possible death of their caregiver under these circumstances. It should be delayed until such time as the potentially dangerous and unstable child is in a position where she's less likely to explode at the news. The argument of 'transparency' is blatantly flawed here, just on the basis that this sort of information is deeply traumatic and it's massively to the benefit of the PRT to manage their Wards so that they don't go fucking insane.

Now before you worry, this is only a minor blip to me. I get the desire to make a cliffhanger of it, and I've done similar things more than once. Just wanted to bring this up as some (hopefully) constructive criticism in relation to narrative liberties.
 
Snowfire said:
If I might raise this minor piece of criticism here, on rereading I'm...honestly finding it a little off that the Protectorate are even talking to Taylor about the injury or potential death of her father. They know that, like every other cape in existence, she isn't anything close to mentally stable. Combine that with the fact that she's just come out of a high intensity combat situation, and she's even less in her right mind.

I can't imagine any regulations that would suggest or even allow for informing a minor of the possible death of their caregiver under these circumstances. It should be delayed until such time as the potentially dangerous and unstable child is in a position where she's less likely to explode at the news. The argument of 'transparency' is blatantly flawed here, just on the basis that this sort of information is deeply traumatic and it's massively to the benefit of the PRT to manage their Wards so that they don't go fucking insane.

Now before you worry, this is only a minor blip to me. I get the desire to make a cliffhanger of it, and I've done similar things more than once. Just wanted to bring this up as some (hopefully) constructive criticism in relation to narrative liberties.
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You really should see the SpaceBattles thread. It exploded over this one.

I hope it'll make more sense once 3.5 is released on Friday. Either way, Piggot wants to get this out of the way quickly, because she understands Annatar well enough to know that she won't want this kept from her. That's part of it, and more of it will be explained next chapter.
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
You really should see the SpaceBattles thread. It exploded over this one.
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Steadily convincing me that my decision not to go near SB was a good one :V

Lithos Maitreya said:
I hope it'll make more sense once 3.5 is released on Friday. Either way, Piggot wants to get this out of the way quickly, because she understands Annatar well enough to know that she won't want this kept from her. That's part of it, and more of it will be explained next chapter.
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Eh, as someone who's had a thread explode over narrative pacing issues on a major issue, I'm not going to go snapping at you. I'll wait for context.

Thanks for the quick response, and hopefully 3.5 is everything you hope it'll be.
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
She's just a child.

It would be months and years before I was able to truly understand what it was that put that thought in my head. Sophia Hess was a bully, a monster, a demon in human skin. She'd made it her mission to make my like hell for more than a year. She'd taken one of the highest academically achieving girls in middle school and systematically beaten her down until she was practically failing high school and couldn't find it in herself to give a damn. She'd come damn close to killing me—more than once.

More than that, she'd almost managed to get me to kill myself. More than once.

She's just a child.
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This made me choke up. Gandalf's ring. I felt, in that moment, that Taylor did have Gandalf's ring, straight from the books of Tolkien.
 
Which is funny, 'cause that's Mairon in her head, I think. Better known as, yannow. Sauron.

Though it's possible the Three, great as they are, would've brought traces of their own masters with them as well...
 
My Tolkien was a long time ago. Which book explained all the rings of power? I'm guessing the simierlian (spelling), I could never get through that book.
 
Ironau said:
My Tolkien was a long time ago. Which book explained all the rings of power? I'm guessing the simierlian (spelling), I could never get through that book.
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The Rings of Power were not explained in any detail in canon. I'm working backwards from the powers their bearers were shown to possess to figure out what they can do.
 
My research has turned up a meaning for the -ya ending in the names of the Three. It appears to be an adjective suffix of endearment. Thus, Nenya most nearly translates to "beloved water," Narya to "beloved fire," et cetera. This also suggests an explanation for the oddity surrounding vilya, since it makes sense for air to be beloved to begin with. I'll add this to the translation guide.
 
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    • Thanks to @dwood15, @Technetium43, @fabledFreeboota, and @Assembler for betareading.

    -x-x-x-​

    I stared at the radio in my hand. "What?" I asked.

    "I'm sorry, Annatar. He's been recovered by paramedics and is en route to Brockton General Hospital as we speak."

    The Ring of Adamant hardened my heart and steeled my spine. I clenched my teeth and asked, "So he's not dead?"

    "No. I'm not going to lie, his condition is critical, but Panacea is currently at the hospital. She doesn't accept requests, but she generally focuses on patients in critical condition. He'll most likely be fine."

    I closed my eyes. A shudder ran through my body for a moment, goosebumps rising over my skin. I felt as though I was standing in a cold wind. "I'm going to go help," I said thickly. "I can get there in ten minutes and—"

    "You're falling over on your feet," Sophia interrupted roughly.

    I whirled on her. "MY FATHER MIGHT BE DYING!" I screamed at her.

    She didn't flinch. "You're no help to him like this," she said evenly. "Let the medics do their jobs. You've done yours."

    "Shadow Stalker is quite right," said Piggot firmly. "Your father is already en route to the hospital. Panacea--a much more accomplished healer than you, I'm sure you'll agree--is already there, and will almost certainly step in if his condition is beyond the assistance of non-parahuman professionals. Your father should--will be fine."

    "I can't just do nothing!" But even as I said it, I knew I didn't have the energy in me to do a truly massive feat of healing with Vilya right now. At best, I'd be able to stabilize Dad--and after running all the way across the city with Nenya, I doubted I'd be able to do even that.

    "You just held Lung and Oni Lee long enough for the Protectorate to arrive—singlehandedly, according to Aegis' report," said Piggot coolly. "That's far from nothing."

    "That doesn't help my dad!"

    There was a pause.

    "Annatar, I need to be coordinating," Piggot told me. "I'm sorry I can't be more help. You deserved to be aware, at least. Do not rush to the Docks, or to the hospital alone—mover or not, tonight's not a night to be out on the streets alone. You'd be doing your father no favors by getting killed in one of the bombs."

    I didn't answer; just stared out onto the water. My eyes were perfectly dry.

    "Annatar?"

    "I heard you. I won't rush off alone."

    Piggot sighed into the microphone. "We'll talk later. I'm sorry."

    The frequency blanked, and I tuned back to the Wards' band numbly before clipping the radio back onto my belt and staring out into the bay again.

    I blinked. Still no tears.

    After a moment, Clockblocker broke from the group of Wards and approached.

    "I heard you yelling at Piggot," he said lowly. "What happened?"

    "The ABB bombed my dad's work," I replied. My voice was smooth, neither breaking nor cracking.

    "Shit," he whispered. "Is he…?"

    "He's alive. Critical condition. He's on his way to the hospital."

    "Well… that's good, right? There's still a chance—"

    "We were just starting to get along again," I said—hoarsely, now, but still no tears came. "We'd barely been talking for two years—first my mom died, and then fucking Winslow happened, and he was never… he couldn't deal with it. He shut down, and I didn't want to bother him. And it always made me so angry, that I had to tiptoe around my own dad like that."

    Dennis was silent. So was Sophia, still standing near, watching me mutely.

    "I never told him about you, you know?" I said to her, with only a vague gesture in her direction, my gaze still fixed out to sea, my eyes still horribly, traitorously dry. "He only found out about you and Emma after the locker. He knew I was being bullied, but he was always saying shit like 'at least you have Emma,' or 'can't Emma help?' And I mean, how was he supposed to know if I didn't tell him? But what would he do if I did? The teachers didn't give a fuck; the principal didn't give a fuck; Mr. Barnes is a lawyer and we couldn't afford to fight him in court, so the law didn't give a fuck; and I was just a scrawny little girl up against the track star, so why should you give a fuck? Nothing he could do would have changed any of that—he'd have just beaten himself bloody pounding against the walls." I smiled slightly. "Cutting up his hands against the loose nails, and holding his breath to try to get away from the smell."

    I thought I heard an intake of breath from Sophia. Maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe I just wanted to pretend that someone was showing the proper amount of emotion here. I still couldn't cry.

    "I told him about my powers the day before I came in to join the Wards. It was… he was beaten. Had been for years. It took me so long to put myself, my own problems, aside and really see that. I'd been angry with him for it—but once I had powers, I managed it. But I just—I pitied him. When was the last time I really talked to him? When was the last time he and I sat down and spoke—about our lives, about our thoughts, about our feelings? We were starting to, this past two weeks. We were almost there. It was almost right again. We were almost a family again." I laughed darkly. "All it took was me getting powers—was me having such a bad day, being so totally alone, that the only thing I could do was stop being human. And it still wasn't enough. I—we needed more time. A couple more weeks—more days, even. Another two or three family dinners, just he and I. Maybe then we could have understood one another again."

    Maybe then, I'd be able to cry.

    I shook my head to clear it. It wasn't as though Dad was dead—yet—after all. With Panacea at the hospital, and him already on his way, things looked pretty good for his prospects.

    That, somehow, didn't help as much as it should have.

    "I know what it's like," Dennis said gently, "to wish you had more time."

    I looked at him thoughtfully. "Your trigger?" I asked.

    He nodded. "My dad—he has leukemia," he said softly. "I didn't—I wanted more time with him." He laughed mirthlessly. "Now I can keep him, frozen in time, for as long as I want. A perfectly useless solution."

    "My dad and I started getting along again as soon as I no longer needed his support," I told him wryly. "Powers are just ironic like that, aren't they?"

    I was starting to hurt. The adrenaline, shock, and emotion of the past hour was starting to fade, and I was left just feeling drained. My ribs were aching, the bruising beginning to rear its ugly head, and I could practically feel my legs and arms stiffening with exertion.

    "Clockblocker," Sophia said, getting our attention. "Any idea when we can go back to base?"

    Dennis shook his head. "Dunno," he said. "I'll go ask Aegis. Be right back."

    I watched him go as he retreated back to the group.

    "I'm sorry about your dad," said Sophia quietly.

    I turned, blinked at her. "What?"

    She glanced away. There was a pause for a moment.

    "Thank you," I said.

    She didn't reply for a moment. "I wanted to thank you for taking on Lung and Oni Lee like that," she said. "I'm not built to go up against guys like Lung. My powers don't work for that."

    "I know."

    "It wasn't that I wanted to run away; I just knew I could help more by getting the others than by facing them down with just the two of us."

    "I know."

    "I'm not a coward."

    I didn't answer, just looked back out to sea.

    "I'm not!"

    "Brave people don't need to beat down the weak."

    "Fuck you, He—Annatar. I'm a—"

    "Survivor?" I interrupted dryly. "You mentioned."

    "Fight or flight," Sophia said coolly. "It pays to know what you can take on, and what you can't. Sometimes things are just too strong for you alone."

    "Yes."

    "Lung was too strong."

    "I agree."

    "So I'm not a coward. I was getting help."

    I didn't bother to tell her that those two weren't mutually exclusive. She knew. She wouldn't have bothered with this conversation if she didn't.

    "You're a survivor?"

    "Yes."

    "'Cowards die a thousand times before their death. The valiant never taste of death but once.' Julius Caesar." I remembered my mother, sitting in the rocking chair she'd once had in my bedroom, reading to me aloud each night before bed. I remembered my father, joining us for the ceremony, sitting at the foot of my bed, smiling as he watched her intent upon her book, and me intent upon her, as she read from Treasure Island, or The Chronicles of Narnia, or Doctor Dolittle. And, of course—once I was old enough to appreciate it—we began to read Shakespeare as a group, each of us taking some characters' roles.

    Dad had always been good at giving the characters funny voices.

    "It's not like that," Sophia said through gritted teeth.

    I didn't bother to answer. Aegis was coming over.

    "Protectorate's coming out," he said. "Couldn't find Lung or Oni Lee in the Rig. They think Bakuda used some of Leet's tinkertech to get them out. We'll be headed to PRT headquarters soo—"

    Boom.

    An explosion. I turned. Smoke was rising from somewhere in the north part of downtown.

    "Fuck." Aegis cursed. "Bakuda? Is she still going? Why? She's got Lung out, hasn't she?"

    "Power," I said softly. "She's had a taste of rule through fear, and wants more. She won't stop now until she's beaten or until the ABB rule the city."

    "Fuck," said Aegis again. I nodded.

    "Bitch," Sophia said coldly. "Hasn't she caused enough trouble for one night?"

    "She's caused enough trouble for one lifetime," I said. "Hers."

    Aegis glanced at me. "What?"

    I wasn't listening. I can't hunt her down now, I told myself. I'm tired, I'm weak, I'm alone, I'm without support or assistance. She's entrenched, surrounded by allies, and in control of the situation. I can't go after her now. I can't avenge Dad now.

    Tomorrow, I won't be tired or weak, but I'll still be alone, and still without help. It won't be enough.

    Why did I join the Wards, then, if I'm alone, even when surrounded by allies? I wanted allies—no.

    No. I wanted Ring-Bearers. And I need them now. For you, Dad.

    "We need to stop her," I said.

    "That's not our job," said Aegis gently. "We're not the Protectorate--we're supposed to stay safe."

    "Fuck that," Sophia bit out. "I don't plan to sit on my ass while that bitch blows up half of our city."

    "There's only one kind of safety that matters—power." My voice was hard. "And power… power I can do. Power, I have. Power, I can share."

    "What are you talking about, Annatar?" Aegis asked. His voice reminded me of a moth, drawn to a flame—apprehensive, but enraptured already. And I hadn't even begun my pitch.

    "How would you like one of my modules, Aegis?" I asked softly. I met his eyes and looked deep, drawing out what lay behind them, and speaking the words he wanted to hear. "A bit of extra oomph to everything you do. An enduring strength of character, to match the endurance to weather blows. An unrelenting strength that others can't help but respect."

    He stared at me. I saw the smouldering hunger behind his eyes.

    "What are you talking about, Annatar?" The voice was Gallant's.

    "Or you, Gallant?" I asked, turning to him. "How would you like to be the hero you've always wanted to be? Unbreakable, incorruptible, and unyielding?"

    He shuddered—almost imperceptible, under his armor, but I saw it.

    "And you, Vista? The force of will—to captivate the attention of those around you, to command the respect you deserve. An increase—both in power, and in the respect that power earns you."

    Her hands were shaking. "Annatar—"

    "What of you, Kid Win?" I rounded on my fellow Tinker. "The wisdom and focus to see the world as clearly as others do, and manipulate it as only you can. The solidarity of thought to overcome your own weaknesses. I can give you that."

    He took one step toward me, seemingly unaware of his own action. "I—"

    "And Browbeat. The insight to understand the people around you; to understand and even predict their actions, and—if necessary—use them against themselves. I can give you that."

    Browbeat stood frozen; his eyes, barely visible through the holes in his mask, were trained unwaveringly on me.

    "Clockblocker. The detachment to withstand suffering—to live in the moment, and remain unscathed by the hurts that come into your path. I can give you that."

    I couldn't see his face under his blank mask, but I could hear his breathing. It was sharp and quick.

    "And Shadow Stalker," I purred, facing the final Ward. "The strength to overcome your own frailties—the strength of self that allows a true hero to put the self aside, in favor of the other. I can give you that."

    "How?" she whispered, almost hungry, slightly hunched before me, staring up into my face. "How?"

    I smiled. No—I bared my teeth. "For the Lord of Gifts," I hissed, "I've sure kept my powers closely guarded, haven't I? No more. Bakuda will pay—we will make her pay."

    For you, Dad. All these Rings, arms and armor for me, and not one for you. I'm so sorry.

    "I've got some tinkering to do tonight," I said softly. "Once that's done…"

    Seven for the Wards, in a city of sin.

    "...I'll have something to give to each of you."
     
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    • Welp stage 1 and 2 is complete despite having a feeling of the rabbit hole she's about to descend down.

    three for the Crafter ,the Lord of Gifts

    Seven for the Wards, in a city of sin.

    Only 9 rings left before the One.
     
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