A man taking part in a costume contest at a strange convention in Florida, abruptly becomes his Fursona, when a wave of magic sweeps though the conventions halls transforming everyone who was wearing a costume into their costumes; bringing Fantasy (and Sci-fi) into the realm of reality.
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Mage Vs Borg
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
I scratched at the cloak I was wearing, as I sweated behind my fursona's head, the convention center was packed full of others in the same situation, which meant it was hot even in a partial fursuit like mine (I couldn't afford a full one) and the ac system in the building was really not up to the task of hosting so many people. The Orlando convention center today held the Kublai Con, a con that had taken the internet by storm when it was announced by its sponsor (some rich dude who hadn't been famous before he had decided to host a con in Florida of all places), as it gave anyone who entered its large variety of costume contests free entry and a free plane ride courtesy of its rich host. It had been advertised as a very open and accepting event too, the largest con to be hosted in recent memory because it smushed in practically every fandom one could think of into the same convention hall.
I was there as my fursona, egged on to participate by my parents, and I just felt smushed more than anything; I had intended to explore the convention halls but that had proven to be a poor decision on my part. Everywhere I looked there were people in all sorts of costumes or cosplay, someone had made themselves up into an Asari from mass effect toxic looking blue body paint covering exposed skin, there was a somewhat pudgy dude dressed as a Jawa; and all these people were trying to push past each other like sardines in a can.
It was bad, I hated crowds, I'd come here because I wanted to be part of something so grand and I had a partial fursuit already; but I was already regretting my decision to come here. Since it seemed so many others had thought the same as me, and as a result the center was overcrowded.
My fursona being a Stag, who had originally been a normal human (a self insert more like) before being granted sorcery and changing their form to fit themselves. Meant that my partial fur-suit wasn't too bulky, the biggest part was the head, mostly thanks to the real antlers I had stuck on it. Other than the real antlers though, it was a basic deer fursuit head, with basic deer colors. The only color in my costume being the overly large green cloak that hid my skin, and draped down to the floor.
I pushed through the crowds, bumping into people and making one too many fumbling apologies, until I stumbled across an area that seemed to be devoted to Star Trek (what with all the people dressed up in red shirts and stalls showing things like model phasers and paintings of Spock). I'd already participated in the contest I was here for, and the participation ribbon was stuffed in my backpack which was hidden with the rest of me under the cloak. I was just exploring at this point, having already bought a few trinkets, a small art print of some D&D kobolds; a dice set themed around the mane six from MLP (just some minor things like that).
It felt like I had to get way more though, despite the fact that I wasn't really the richest person in the world, this was a once in a lifetime convention as the internet was calling it after all. So I approached the nearest stall to me, being staffed by a guy dressed up as some forehead ridged alien in an elaborate yellow bit of attire that did indeed look like it came from the set of Star Trek. He was selling all things model Sci-fi weapons, and what looked like props from the show itself.
I decided to strike up conversation, despite the fact I didn't feel like buying anything, I felt driven to make a connection here; almost like I had to meet someone. If I was out of costume I would have probably never considered it, but behind my partial fursuit head it just became a tangible idea. I always felt the world would go much smoother if everyone always wore masks, like a Mandalorian or Bionicle did.
In any case, I looked at the phaser rifle prop displayed prominently as the centerpiece of the table, it was one of the most expensive things there. Which served to catch the stall owners attention, as there was really no one buying anything from his stall at the moment.
"Like it", said the man waving a hand over his creation, "I modeled it after the one Cardasians used".
"Is it 3D printed"? I asked as I noted that in places it looked a little rough and like imperfections had been polished out under the paint.
"Yeah", the man affirmed, "I got a printer from my work they were going to throw away and I figured that I'd start making some Star Trek props with it".
I didn't know where to take the conversation next, so I just moved on to what I felt like a safe topic and cringed hoping it was a sane divergence. "Cool… Uh your costume, is it I can't remember the name; one of those hyper tactician aliens from TNG; it's really good make-up"?
"Yeah", he responds, "The Zakdorn, I like your fursuit, does it have a story"?
I wring my hands together under the green cloak that conceal most of me, "no, no not really anything; they-" I start to say; and then everything goes to shit.
~
There's a popping noise. Elsewhere in the convention center, a rich man named Eric Winters, the convention's sponsor, has finished putting on an ancient raven mask. An otherworldly force rushing out of it as it touches his face and spreads to the rest of the convention center.
~
Then in the next instant, I feel the overworked air conditioning unit caress the brown fur of my face, I feel my hooves on the plush convention floor carpet- my short tail moving slightly with my emotions; more than that I simply feel the world around me. It's pulsating, wobbly, reality has broken here and magic is in the air. I am disoriented, wearing not a shoddy cloak anymore but a regal kingly outfit (forest green of course) topped with a golden circlet running around my horned forehead and an ornate silver staff I am holding in four fingered hands.
I open my muzzle to speak, but I don't really know what to say. Across from me there's something off about the guy I'd just been speaking to, my magic telling me that something has altered his mind. As if it wasn't obvious that something was off, by the fact that I had just abruptly turned into my fursona with no warning or obvious direct cause.
I didn't get much time to concentrate or examine my new self (though rest assured I was feeling giddy as hell in that moment buried under the more immediate concerns), as I felt a dangerous presence enter my magical observation not that far from me.
It was my first real sign that it wasn't just me affected, there were now several people clad in honest to god cybernetics, literally intruding into skin that was of a deathly pallor merging with it seamlessly; and they were in the midst of saying through amplified voices. "WE ARE THE BORG, YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOUR UNIQUENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR COLLECTIVE. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE".
I had to do something, these people were now part of a fairly intimidating tech-zombie hive mind, their previous costumes becoming their reality via some sort of spell that my magic couldn't comprehend. Already I could hear way too much phaser fire, and it was hurting my highly sensitive ears, as well as doing absolutely nothing to the Borg who were slowly advancing forward towards the nearest people. The Zakdorn behind me on the counter, had proceed to grab the Cardassian rifle from his stock, but I raised a hand and he didn't fire; only nodding at me like he understood something I didn't.
"We should leave", the man who I'd never caught the name of said. "It's the borg, and they've already adapted to phaser fire". I didn't stop to think about how exactly he had been affected
"No", I said, "they'll spread; but how well do you think they'd fair against magic".
"Poorly", said the human turned forehead ridge alien looking like he was squinting as he stared at the slowly moving Borg. "At least as long as the magic can't be affected by technology, Borg can't use or interact with physic powers, it goes against their collective".
"I thought they assimilated, like psychic people, and that's how they had a hivemind" I said because despite the fact I wanted to help, I was afraid, and thus slowly backing away from the Borg like everyone else nearby was. I noted briefly that it was mostly Starfleet officers, with only a few Klingons and one giant Gorn. There was a scattering of non Star Trek people too, but most of them had fled for some reason, and I couldn't recognize where the people who did stay were from.
"No", replied my companion, "they use a quantum link to do that stuff, I could technobabble all the new knowledge stuck in my head, but I won't; are you saying you can do magic now". He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yes", I said suppressing pretty much all of my emotions, "I know what's happening here, there was a wave of weird magic, and now basically everyone in costume has been affected by it and turned into what their costumes mean to them". I felt a headache coming on from just saying that out loud, and now several people were looking in our direction; ignoring them I continued talking to the Zakdorn man. "Just like I assume you got the tactical smarts of a Zakdorn, I got the magic that my fursona possessed, and it's in turn letting me know that magic was the cause of all of this".
I heard someone else, a blond guy in a starfleet tactical uniform shakily clutching at a phaser, close to our position speak and join our conversation. "I guess that explains all this as well as anything but those- those Borg sure sound serious though".
I concentrated on my magic senses casting a long range read-only mind eavesdropping spell, picking out several Data's in the crowd (and idly wondering why the Star Trek fans weren't more spread out over the rest of the convention center. Some were panicked and wondering why they were a robot now, but others were unreadable: a series of whirs and beeps. "They are," I said with confidence. Frowning as I felt my mana reserves dip a little from the spell use. I hoped that the Zakdorn man had been right about the Borgs inability to interface with magic, but the spell being read only was probably enough to protect me. Regardless I didn't feel assimilated at that moment so it was fine.
When the blonde starfleet officer just looked at me weird I continued. "Several people here truly believe themselves to be the character they look like, down to their memories being that of the characters".
"How do you know that"? The Zakdorn man questioned, gripping his Cardassian rifle, as while we were having our conversation one of the Borg had succeeded in grabbing a Starfleet science officer and was already extending their assimilation prongs or whatever they were called, to the lady's neck.
"Magic", I said cursing my distraction, "magic I have to use soon and fast".
"How does your magic work"? The Zakdorn asked, firing his phaser at the Borg with the rest of the still firing weapons of the crowd.
"It's very loose", I said not wanting to specify, "soft magic system, how were the ex-borg cured"? My voice was raised in anger, a natural response to a large crowd panicking; from my new body apparently "Do you remember with your new knowledge"?
"We removed the nanoprobes, and then took out the cybernetics carefully, it has to be done in a specific order or the tech restarts and tries to assimilate the doctors". The Zakdorn shot back at me not stopping to take a breath.
"Alright", I nodded, then raised my silver staff; beginning to visualize a spell in my head. I pictured an expanding circular wave channeling visible light into an energy field tuned to disintegrate both nanites and technology. Words came unbidden to my lips. The spell would be more powerful if it put action behind it…
"Rust and burn" I yelled out, my voice projected with authority over the natural world behind it, as I thrust out my staff in front of me. A whirring sound followed as energy coursed out of me channeled through my staff, and a sphere of expanding energy sort of dripped out of its tip. Resembling a heatwave. Expanding outward slowly, the rippling energy expanded in size until it covered me and a few other people near me, technology of all sorts began to simply evaporate under whatever my spell touched. I smiled, such power at my fingertips felt good. The expanding spell caused about as much panic as the Borg hand among the other people near me, the Zakdorn had a frown on his face as he looked down to where his rifle had once been, several others nearby had similar looks as their tech disappeared; but others had quickly caught on and had started reiterating in a unified direction towards my spellform. Thankfully a lot of the robotic lifeforms near me had also caught on to what the spell was, and were all rapidly fleeing pushing their way through the crowd and away from harm. My spell was undirected in my haste to cast it, and would have probably killed them.
It really didn't take long for my spell to reach the Borg, who despite their assimilative hivemind horror factor, were just simply slow moving for whatever reason. The lady from earlier now had visible implants on her skin, she'll probably be in pain after this, I thought to myself and winced. The instant my spell caught the first borg they dropped to the ground like a puppet with their strings cut, naked and pale skinned; they didn't even scream from the pain they just plain passed out. The other Borg began to back away, but couldn't outrun the shimmering heatwave wall of my spell, I didn't look, but it did not take all that much time for the entire conflict to conclude with a bunch of bodies on the floor some not passed out but rather writhing in pain. The lady was the only one screaming…
I was good at suppressing what I felt, but this was too much for me, these people needed a doctor, and my spell (which I still had going at this point as I stood there blankly), had just very likely annihilated everything that could heal them in easy reach.
Several of the blue shirted Starfleet officers were props to them, immediately rushing their way to the fallen people; and doing what they could without technology do to aid them at that moment. One of them had approached me, while I was staring off into space, an angry look on her tan-furred feline face (one of the few aliens I'd apparently not seen in the crowd, a Caitian, basically one of my favorite races in Star Trek due them being simply anthropomorphic cats but that wasn't strictly relevant right now).
"What the hell man", she spat in a hissing yowl, that made her words seem even more vitriolic than they were.
At that moment I felt like I deserved it, the self loathing that still stirred within me for hurting those people mixed itself up within my brain into nothing but a simple shrug. "Hey", I said trying to justify my actions, "they were Borg and I had to do something".
Her scowl deepened as her long tail lashed like a snake, "of course whatever you did got rid of the Borg which is good, but it left a group of dying people in its wake; while getting rid of their only chance for survival". She gestured to a leather pouch at her hips that was now empty of any fancy tech.
The gesture, though small, rubber-banded me back to the present, and caused me to realize my spell was still up. Ignoring the Science officer for a moment, I shook my staff and channeled my will causing my spell to pop and saving the rest of the convention from having their tech destroyed. "If you want me to help heal them I can't", I spoke simply drawing on the intuitive knowledge this transformation into my fursona gave me of how the magic I used functioned.
"Why not", she yelled, before punching me with deceptively thin arms, causing me to topple over onto the cold convention floor and let out an audible whimper as my staff hit me on the tip of my muzzle directly on my nose.
"I-I'm not Q", I spoke as I rolled over to my side and clutched my muzzle which was hurting a bit, "destruction is easy making spells that eradicate, eviscerate, erode; whatever". I paused for air, "can just be done with little thought, creation is different, I need time, effort and direction to make anything with my magic". I gathered myself up, and pushed off the floor, to face the scowling Caitian. "I'm also not a doctor, nor do I particularly know those people well enough to heal them, if I tried they'd end up worse than they are now".
"They only have a few hours to live at most", she said looking at least a little mollified, "can you work a spell in that timeframe with help from medical professionals"?
It did not take me that much time to consider the question, but I frowned as I gave my answer, "still no; it would take more than just a few hours to do it correctly".
The Caitian put her head in her hands, "oooh Lily", she said under her breath real quiet like; but my ears were sensitive enough to hear those words just fine. I assumed that she must have known one of those Borg, or maybe the lady who had been in the middle of getting assimilated before I stopped the whole affair.
"Hey", I said a little shakily, "this entire convention has been turned into a bunch of characters that used to only exist in fiction; I don't know if your mind has been affect to think you are a Starfleet officer or not so I don't know if you believe me on that… But trust me when I say that someone nearby in this very building, very likely has better healing powers than me, or healing technology better than what you Starfleet people had on hand".
She gave me a look, thought it over in her head, looked back across the room to where multiple copies of Spock were talking amongst themselves; then sighed. "I suppose what you are saying has some merit", she hissed out, "but this better not be a trick; I don't trust you so if you are leaving this room I may as well come with to help you search" She then stuck out her hand, "names Sh'rrel" she said in my opinion trying a little too hard to be 'cool'.
I felt that she was really just saying that to ensure I wouldn't simply just wander off though. Regardless, I now had a goal. I took her hand and shook it. "Names Alexander… and we should probably get going then", I winced at my awkward flub but shook it off.
Sh'rrel took it in stride and simply ended the conversation with a, "lets", something that prompted us both into movement: leaving the Star Trek part of the convention hall behind us for now.
I was there as my fursona, egged on to participate by my parents, and I just felt smushed more than anything; I had intended to explore the convention halls but that had proven to be a poor decision on my part. Everywhere I looked there were people in all sorts of costumes or cosplay, someone had made themselves up into an Asari from mass effect toxic looking blue body paint covering exposed skin, there was a somewhat pudgy dude dressed as a Jawa; and all these people were trying to push past each other like sardines in a can.
It was bad, I hated crowds, I'd come here because I wanted to be part of something so grand and I had a partial fursuit already; but I was already regretting my decision to come here. Since it seemed so many others had thought the same as me, and as a result the center was overcrowded.
My fursona being a Stag, who had originally been a normal human (a self insert more like) before being granted sorcery and changing their form to fit themselves. Meant that my partial fur-suit wasn't too bulky, the biggest part was the head, mostly thanks to the real antlers I had stuck on it. Other than the real antlers though, it was a basic deer fursuit head, with basic deer colors. The only color in my costume being the overly large green cloak that hid my skin, and draped down to the floor.
I pushed through the crowds, bumping into people and making one too many fumbling apologies, until I stumbled across an area that seemed to be devoted to Star Trek (what with all the people dressed up in red shirts and stalls showing things like model phasers and paintings of Spock). I'd already participated in the contest I was here for, and the participation ribbon was stuffed in my backpack which was hidden with the rest of me under the cloak. I was just exploring at this point, having already bought a few trinkets, a small art print of some D&D kobolds; a dice set themed around the mane six from MLP (just some minor things like that).
It felt like I had to get way more though, despite the fact that I wasn't really the richest person in the world, this was a once in a lifetime convention as the internet was calling it after all. So I approached the nearest stall to me, being staffed by a guy dressed up as some forehead ridged alien in an elaborate yellow bit of attire that did indeed look like it came from the set of Star Trek. He was selling all things model Sci-fi weapons, and what looked like props from the show itself.
I decided to strike up conversation, despite the fact I didn't feel like buying anything, I felt driven to make a connection here; almost like I had to meet someone. If I was out of costume I would have probably never considered it, but behind my partial fursuit head it just became a tangible idea. I always felt the world would go much smoother if everyone always wore masks, like a Mandalorian or Bionicle did.
In any case, I looked at the phaser rifle prop displayed prominently as the centerpiece of the table, it was one of the most expensive things there. Which served to catch the stall owners attention, as there was really no one buying anything from his stall at the moment.
"Like it", said the man waving a hand over his creation, "I modeled it after the one Cardasians used".
"Is it 3D printed"? I asked as I noted that in places it looked a little rough and like imperfections had been polished out under the paint.
"Yeah", the man affirmed, "I got a printer from my work they were going to throw away and I figured that I'd start making some Star Trek props with it".
I didn't know where to take the conversation next, so I just moved on to what I felt like a safe topic and cringed hoping it was a sane divergence. "Cool… Uh your costume, is it I can't remember the name; one of those hyper tactician aliens from TNG; it's really good make-up"?
"Yeah", he responds, "The Zakdorn, I like your fursuit, does it have a story"?
I wring my hands together under the green cloak that conceal most of me, "no, no not really anything; they-" I start to say; and then everything goes to shit.
~
There's a popping noise. Elsewhere in the convention center, a rich man named Eric Winters, the convention's sponsor, has finished putting on an ancient raven mask. An otherworldly force rushing out of it as it touches his face and spreads to the rest of the convention center.
~
Then in the next instant, I feel the overworked air conditioning unit caress the brown fur of my face, I feel my hooves on the plush convention floor carpet- my short tail moving slightly with my emotions; more than that I simply feel the world around me. It's pulsating, wobbly, reality has broken here and magic is in the air. I am disoriented, wearing not a shoddy cloak anymore but a regal kingly outfit (forest green of course) topped with a golden circlet running around my horned forehead and an ornate silver staff I am holding in four fingered hands.
I open my muzzle to speak, but I don't really know what to say. Across from me there's something off about the guy I'd just been speaking to, my magic telling me that something has altered his mind. As if it wasn't obvious that something was off, by the fact that I had just abruptly turned into my fursona with no warning or obvious direct cause.
I didn't get much time to concentrate or examine my new self (though rest assured I was feeling giddy as hell in that moment buried under the more immediate concerns), as I felt a dangerous presence enter my magical observation not that far from me.
It was my first real sign that it wasn't just me affected, there were now several people clad in honest to god cybernetics, literally intruding into skin that was of a deathly pallor merging with it seamlessly; and they were in the midst of saying through amplified voices. "WE ARE THE BORG, YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOUR UNIQUENESS WILL BE ADDED TO OUR COLLECTIVE. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE".
I had to do something, these people were now part of a fairly intimidating tech-zombie hive mind, their previous costumes becoming their reality via some sort of spell that my magic couldn't comprehend. Already I could hear way too much phaser fire, and it was hurting my highly sensitive ears, as well as doing absolutely nothing to the Borg who were slowly advancing forward towards the nearest people. The Zakdorn behind me on the counter, had proceed to grab the Cardassian rifle from his stock, but I raised a hand and he didn't fire; only nodding at me like he understood something I didn't.
"We should leave", the man who I'd never caught the name of said. "It's the borg, and they've already adapted to phaser fire". I didn't stop to think about how exactly he had been affected
"No", I said, "they'll spread; but how well do you think they'd fair against magic".
"Poorly", said the human turned forehead ridge alien looking like he was squinting as he stared at the slowly moving Borg. "At least as long as the magic can't be affected by technology, Borg can't use or interact with physic powers, it goes against their collective".
"I thought they assimilated, like psychic people, and that's how they had a hivemind" I said because despite the fact I wanted to help, I was afraid, and thus slowly backing away from the Borg like everyone else nearby was. I noted briefly that it was mostly Starfleet officers, with only a few Klingons and one giant Gorn. There was a scattering of non Star Trek people too, but most of them had fled for some reason, and I couldn't recognize where the people who did stay were from.
"No", replied my companion, "they use a quantum link to do that stuff, I could technobabble all the new knowledge stuck in my head, but I won't; are you saying you can do magic now". He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yes", I said suppressing pretty much all of my emotions, "I know what's happening here, there was a wave of weird magic, and now basically everyone in costume has been affected by it and turned into what their costumes mean to them". I felt a headache coming on from just saying that out loud, and now several people were looking in our direction; ignoring them I continued talking to the Zakdorn man. "Just like I assume you got the tactical smarts of a Zakdorn, I got the magic that my fursona possessed, and it's in turn letting me know that magic was the cause of all of this".
I heard someone else, a blond guy in a starfleet tactical uniform shakily clutching at a phaser, close to our position speak and join our conversation. "I guess that explains all this as well as anything but those- those Borg sure sound serious though".
I concentrated on my magic senses casting a long range read-only mind eavesdropping spell, picking out several Data's in the crowd (and idly wondering why the Star Trek fans weren't more spread out over the rest of the convention center. Some were panicked and wondering why they were a robot now, but others were unreadable: a series of whirs and beeps. "They are," I said with confidence. Frowning as I felt my mana reserves dip a little from the spell use. I hoped that the Zakdorn man had been right about the Borgs inability to interface with magic, but the spell being read only was probably enough to protect me. Regardless I didn't feel assimilated at that moment so it was fine.
When the blonde starfleet officer just looked at me weird I continued. "Several people here truly believe themselves to be the character they look like, down to their memories being that of the characters".
"How do you know that"? The Zakdorn man questioned, gripping his Cardassian rifle, as while we were having our conversation one of the Borg had succeeded in grabbing a Starfleet science officer and was already extending their assimilation prongs or whatever they were called, to the lady's neck.
"Magic", I said cursing my distraction, "magic I have to use soon and fast".
"How does your magic work"? The Zakdorn asked, firing his phaser at the Borg with the rest of the still firing weapons of the crowd.
"It's very loose", I said not wanting to specify, "soft magic system, how were the ex-borg cured"? My voice was raised in anger, a natural response to a large crowd panicking; from my new body apparently "Do you remember with your new knowledge"?
"We removed the nanoprobes, and then took out the cybernetics carefully, it has to be done in a specific order or the tech restarts and tries to assimilate the doctors". The Zakdorn shot back at me not stopping to take a breath.
"Alright", I nodded, then raised my silver staff; beginning to visualize a spell in my head. I pictured an expanding circular wave channeling visible light into an energy field tuned to disintegrate both nanites and technology. Words came unbidden to my lips. The spell would be more powerful if it put action behind it…
"Rust and burn" I yelled out, my voice projected with authority over the natural world behind it, as I thrust out my staff in front of me. A whirring sound followed as energy coursed out of me channeled through my staff, and a sphere of expanding energy sort of dripped out of its tip. Resembling a heatwave. Expanding outward slowly, the rippling energy expanded in size until it covered me and a few other people near me, technology of all sorts began to simply evaporate under whatever my spell touched. I smiled, such power at my fingertips felt good. The expanding spell caused about as much panic as the Borg hand among the other people near me, the Zakdorn had a frown on his face as he looked down to where his rifle had once been, several others nearby had similar looks as their tech disappeared; but others had quickly caught on and had started reiterating in a unified direction towards my spellform. Thankfully a lot of the robotic lifeforms near me had also caught on to what the spell was, and were all rapidly fleeing pushing their way through the crowd and away from harm. My spell was undirected in my haste to cast it, and would have probably killed them.
It really didn't take long for my spell to reach the Borg, who despite their assimilative hivemind horror factor, were just simply slow moving for whatever reason. The lady from earlier now had visible implants on her skin, she'll probably be in pain after this, I thought to myself and winced. The instant my spell caught the first borg they dropped to the ground like a puppet with their strings cut, naked and pale skinned; they didn't even scream from the pain they just plain passed out. The other Borg began to back away, but couldn't outrun the shimmering heatwave wall of my spell, I didn't look, but it did not take all that much time for the entire conflict to conclude with a bunch of bodies on the floor some not passed out but rather writhing in pain. The lady was the only one screaming…
I was good at suppressing what I felt, but this was too much for me, these people needed a doctor, and my spell (which I still had going at this point as I stood there blankly), had just very likely annihilated everything that could heal them in easy reach.
Several of the blue shirted Starfleet officers were props to them, immediately rushing their way to the fallen people; and doing what they could without technology do to aid them at that moment. One of them had approached me, while I was staring off into space, an angry look on her tan-furred feline face (one of the few aliens I'd apparently not seen in the crowd, a Caitian, basically one of my favorite races in Star Trek due them being simply anthropomorphic cats but that wasn't strictly relevant right now).
"What the hell man", she spat in a hissing yowl, that made her words seem even more vitriolic than they were.
At that moment I felt like I deserved it, the self loathing that still stirred within me for hurting those people mixed itself up within my brain into nothing but a simple shrug. "Hey", I said trying to justify my actions, "they were Borg and I had to do something".
Her scowl deepened as her long tail lashed like a snake, "of course whatever you did got rid of the Borg which is good, but it left a group of dying people in its wake; while getting rid of their only chance for survival". She gestured to a leather pouch at her hips that was now empty of any fancy tech.
The gesture, though small, rubber-banded me back to the present, and caused me to realize my spell was still up. Ignoring the Science officer for a moment, I shook my staff and channeled my will causing my spell to pop and saving the rest of the convention from having their tech destroyed. "If you want me to help heal them I can't", I spoke simply drawing on the intuitive knowledge this transformation into my fursona gave me of how the magic I used functioned.
"Why not", she yelled, before punching me with deceptively thin arms, causing me to topple over onto the cold convention floor and let out an audible whimper as my staff hit me on the tip of my muzzle directly on my nose.
"I-I'm not Q", I spoke as I rolled over to my side and clutched my muzzle which was hurting a bit, "destruction is easy making spells that eradicate, eviscerate, erode; whatever". I paused for air, "can just be done with little thought, creation is different, I need time, effort and direction to make anything with my magic". I gathered myself up, and pushed off the floor, to face the scowling Caitian. "I'm also not a doctor, nor do I particularly know those people well enough to heal them, if I tried they'd end up worse than they are now".
"They only have a few hours to live at most", she said looking at least a little mollified, "can you work a spell in that timeframe with help from medical professionals"?
It did not take me that much time to consider the question, but I frowned as I gave my answer, "still no; it would take more than just a few hours to do it correctly".
The Caitian put her head in her hands, "oooh Lily", she said under her breath real quiet like; but my ears were sensitive enough to hear those words just fine. I assumed that she must have known one of those Borg, or maybe the lady who had been in the middle of getting assimilated before I stopped the whole affair.
"Hey", I said a little shakily, "this entire convention has been turned into a bunch of characters that used to only exist in fiction; I don't know if your mind has been affect to think you are a Starfleet officer or not so I don't know if you believe me on that… But trust me when I say that someone nearby in this very building, very likely has better healing powers than me, or healing technology better than what you Starfleet people had on hand".
She gave me a look, thought it over in her head, looked back across the room to where multiple copies of Spock were talking amongst themselves; then sighed. "I suppose what you are saying has some merit", she hissed out, "but this better not be a trick; I don't trust you so if you are leaving this room I may as well come with to help you search" She then stuck out her hand, "names Sh'rrel" she said in my opinion trying a little too hard to be 'cool'.
I felt that she was really just saying that to ensure I wouldn't simply just wander off though. Regardless, I now had a goal. I took her hand and shook it. "Names Alexander… and we should probably get going then", I winced at my awkward flub but shook it off.
Sh'rrel took it in stride and simply ended the conversation with a, "lets", something that prompted us both into movement: leaving the Star Trek part of the convention hall behind us for now.
The Xanadu setting
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
AN: For some context, this was written in the Xanadu setting, something I found first in a random short story anthology I was reading recently (I just really liked the concept I guess). The basic gist is that there is a convention where people are suddenly and abruptly transformed physically (and occasionally mentally) by what those costumes meant to them. This website I found contains some links to short stories written by more competent writers than me in the setting. Xanadu
Another AN: I don't know how long I want to make this story, or if I want to go much further than this chapter, but I do know updates will probably be slow and sporadic if they happen at all.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Another AN: I don't know how long I want to make this story, or if I want to go much further than this chapter, but I do know updates will probably be slow and sporadic if they happen at all.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Mage Vs Internal Organs
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
Sh'rrel and I pushed our way out into the conventions hallway directly outside the Star Trek area, people of all sorts were rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off, and all the movement and varied color had quickly served to disorient both of us. We stood just taking it all in for a moment, as a literal pterosaur swopped above our heads and down the hallway.
It turned out to be a good thing that we stopped to stare though, the Star Wars convention was down the hall a little ways, and there was a forcefield cutting off a branching hallway path sightly up ahead from where we were, surrounded by clone-troopers who were trying and failing to control the situation.
From within the double doors that led to the Star Wars area of the con, there was the sound of blaster fire, and the hiss of lightsabers, alongside some sounds I couldn't identify. Worryingly my magical senses screamed danger when I even focused them in the vague vicinity of the room.
"Where too", Sh'rrel justifiably asked, as she looked around nervously at my side, pawing for a phaser that was no longer there.
"To be honest I don't know", I started walking in the opposite direction of the roadblock which the Clone troopers had set up. "Lets walk this way, too much danger going on over there- and hope we run across a healer: I think Marvel was down this way or something".
"Marvel"? Sh'rrel questioned, all but confirming something I already heavily suspected, which was that whoever she'd been she'd lost herself into the role of a Caitian science officer. Marvel was just too large to be an completely unknown name.
"Not important", I shot back, "but superheros; people with supernatural abilities like straight up healing people with a touch". I pointed at a Green Lantern, who had barreled right past us glowing green, headed towards the Star Wars room for some reason.
Sh'rrel just looked a little more shell-shocked than she had previously, all she did was nod.
On our way down the hallways we passed by several people who I recognized to have healing powers, but none of them stopped to talk. They were all in various degrees of hurry, and even though I attempted to yell out at each of them, they just moved past me. I could only hope that one of them did decide to visit the Star Trek area and heal the dying Ex-Borg there.
Another thing I saw was the occasional few untransformed people being led by a transformed person presumably to some exit, though we didn't pass that many, due to the cons unique free entry to people in cosplay contests; practically everyone in the con was costumed to some extent.
It wasn't exactly the 'Marvel' section of the con we arrived at, it was more like a general clumping together of the concept of superheroes. I saw perhaps one too many Batmen in the crowd that greeted us within the room, all of them were tense, and there were a few minor fights breaking out; but a lot of the villains present were tied up together in a central area that was watched over by several people. It seemed that we had arrived at a relatively safe part of the con the perfect place to look for a healer really, even if I couldn't quite recall any superpowered characters with healing powers, I knew they existed; I'd known that there may not have been any but I had to hope that at least one person bothered to cosplay as a healer here.
"So do we just ask"? Sh'rrel questioned, frowning at the noise and sheer sardine-can-like packness of the room.
"I suppose", I shrugged, "let me get their attention". I then began to prepare a voice enhancing spell, like an instant megaphone, but before I could get anywhere with it; one of the walls closest to us burst open (revealing behind it a large and completely trashed up parking lot that was on fire). A large shirtless man walked through it, while fire seemed to pop out of thin air around him. His body was beginning to morph and change into something more draconic, and he had a metal mask adorning his face.
"Oh shit", I said, caught off guard instead of casting my megaphone spell, while a whole cluster of superheroes began to indiscriminately attack the man. Sh'rrel yelped and began looking for something, presumably a weapon.
The man, who now had several holes in his body, laughed as a spiderweb ineffectively burnt off of his chest. His wound simply began to close up faster than they had before, and he looked less human now, with scales lining his body and his mask having fallen off of his face to reveal a four segmented mouth. He laughed- and out garbled my lips not meant to speak came "who dares fight Lung"- before being punched in the face by an Iron Man suit and stumbling backwards a bit.
"We should maybe go elsewhere", I said in cowardice.
Sh'rrel picked up a knife she'd found lying on the ground, it looked like a glass dagger from skyrim, and I had no idea what it was doing there; but that was unimportant. It was clear she wanted to help fight somehow. I was not going to just leave her there, considering she had no powers whatsoever.
One would think in a room full of powered people, fights would be over in an instant, but I had a hunch that a lot of people in that room were not overwritten by the personalities of their characters. Besides the big fellow, Lung he called himself, seemed pretty strong anyways, some sort of busted regeneration.
Not wanting a repeat of the Borg situation, I resolved just to make a beam or something instead of an expanding dome. I filled my head with visions of fire extinguishers. Then spoke, "Fire Fire, Die tonight", ending the phrase by spitting. It was lucky that I kept ending up far away from the action, all of my spell work required at least some small degree of preparation and deliberation.
A beam of dark light, sprung out of the tip of my staff and blasted off towards Lung, who had just gotten larger and more reptilian in the scant seconds it had taken me to act. It poured onto him with several other miscellaneous attacks, and the large dragon man looked for a second like he was genuinely getting hurt; but he just grew taller instead and he was starting to grow tiny little wings along his mutated back.
One of the Batmen took that moment to yell, "stop attacking"! But my spell was sustained, a line leading from me to Lung, before I could shut it off and listen to the random Batmans advice, lungs eyes locked with mine and a large glob of fire swooshed in at my face.
I Tried to doge, lunging to the side and letting my spell peter out, but the fire hit me anyways right on the short cloak that was part of the regal clothes I was wearing (Sh'rrel at this point had ducked behind a stall and had gone who knows where). I unclasped the cloak before the fire could spread, but not before Lung threw another large fireball my way, though before it could reach me; it was thankfully blocked by a green energy construct from a very alien looking green lantern.
I cursed under my breath anyways, I was far too slow to react to stuff like this, if I was to be getting into fights I had to remember not everyone moved as slow as the Borg. So I just began to run around, and Lung lost sight of me in the crowd. I noted that someone had erected an energy field of some sort around the supervillains sitting tied up in the center of the room still.
I very much wasn't looking where I was going but as fire and the noises of a superhero fight rang our around me, I knew I had to do something, yet I was stressed and could not think at that moment.
It was by luck perhaps that I almost ran horns-first into a man who had been turned into Deadpool. He spoke exactly like one would expect Deadpool to speak yet clearly was not him. "Thats a character from Worm-uh Parahumans by Wildbow, the powers come from weird extra-dimensional space-computer crystal things". He stuttered. "I-I was told that would help you, I guess, oh jeez this is weird; I can tell you are just a halfway SI meant to play to the author's exact power fantasy". He clasped his hands over his masked mouth. "I'm sorry"-
The guy with Deadpool's powerset started to apologize profusely but I cut him off, "whatever- thanks"; I said waving the hand of mine that was not currently clutching my silver staff in a death grip. Internally I just discarded the last part about me being an SI and having an author, unimportant and slightly crazy. I did however consider the point which the guy had just made about extra-dimensional crystal computers; my mind concocting another spell.
I thought about portals, and dimensions, and connections; hoping it would be enough then I instead of talking looked around for something- anything to draw on the floor with. There wasn't much around for drawing directly, but I did find a stall selling t-shirts with predictably superheroes on them, I started to grab at them by the bundle, throwing them onto the floor, and nudging them into a circle with a hoof. I had a rough ring in no time. In the corner of my vision I could see fire and smoke spreading, I had to hurry up.
Wasting no more time, I spoke, "Portal, Connection, Dragon, Crystal". A flickering circular pane of blue formed slightly above the circle of shirts. I poured more concepts into the metaphorical fire, and several people nearby had noticed me; and I sucked in a breath as the fight with Lung came closer. "Dimensions, Control, Source". I continued and that was enough for the portal to fully form, though I couldn't see the other side.
In an instant, there were several people around me, most of them I couldn't recognize, without wasting time examining them; I shouted pointing at my portal. "This should lead to that man's power source we need to destroy it".
I got several affirmatives, but I was the first to actually take my portal. What greeted me on the other side, was a platform of cackling orange quartz, energy of burning red passing between jutting crystalline structures like neurons. I stepped forward, and behind me the people who I'd gotten the attention of poured in.
Two of them, immediately for no discernible reason, threw themselves into the void at the edge of the platform for no discernible reason before anyone could stop them. A man in blue power armor with a halberd and an absolutely gorgeous beard, and a young girl wearing some sort of insect suit with yellow lenses.
The clothes stood gawking for a moment, but did not stop for conversation, beginning to smash the jutting forest of crystal that stood off to one side of the platform.
I myself held a very different problem, there were alien eyes boring into the back of my head, reaching with gossamer puppet strings. I dodged, with both my magic and physical body and they shot past me, hitting the back of a man wearing organic looking crablike power armor.
The man then almost immediately proceeded to merge with whatever armor he was wearing, and his form got bigger and more crablike, until there was a giant angry crab on the crystal platform with us.
I reacted the quickest, as the others were still busy chopping away at crystal, "Barrage, Force, Knockout" I yelled, thrusting my staff forward like a rapier, and causing a cluster of small ball peen hammers to fly out, pelting the crabs chitin and doing no more than that.
It rushed at me with speed that should not belong to a giant crab, and before I knew it my right arm holding my silver staff had all of its bones broken and crushed in a pincer. My staff dropped to the ground.
Again someone else came to my rescue, a man wearing some sort of orange armor lobbed a grenade at the arm joint of the crab. It somehow stuck to the chitin of the crab, and detonated, the crab made a yowling sound and dropped me. I landed flat on my back.
"There's a presence here" I yelled out, "don't let yourself get grabbed; it looks like a thin string"!
I heard several variations of "got it", and looked around for my staff, spotting it a few meters away. The man in the orange armor, spat out several more bombs from his strangely cartoony grenade launcher, which landed in front of the big crab; it seemed afraid of them. Which bought me time to recollect myself and my staff standing back up on my own two hooves, and also bought time for the others in this strange realm with me to arrive encircling the big beastie.
"I need a little bit of time to cast a spell that should end this", I shouted while my right arm hung loosely at my side and my left held my staff awkwardly, "please protect me".
With that, I began with a simple bit of levitation, bringing crystalline shards into a floaty orbit around my body. I then checked my mana reserves which I hadn't done earlier because I simply knew that my reserves were quite large, it turned out that they were halfway empty, and doing this would bring me down to a quarter of my full capacity. Regardless I started to shout out concepts challenging the invisible presence I was beginning to feel all around me. "Control, Isolation, Cut-Off, Ineffective, Machine".
The presence rose up to meet me and the physical world stopped mattering very much at that moment. {Conqueror rises to meet me I have slain kings of many men} it spoke in a jittering non-speech, and my spell faltered slightly.
I had been expecting resistance, "War-beast, Law, Tool, Mount, Plate-mail".
{I am mighty, I am free}, it rebutted, its words feeling like oil in my ears. I felt a physical weight bearing down on my physical body, though nothing touched it.
I simply said what felt right, "Organ, Dead Meat-thing, Directives, Computer; Reproduction".
That shut it up, its voice falteringly letting out its last words as my spell took effect, {Insolent, little, tiny man- Krk}. In the physical space of whatever dimension we found ourselves in, a radiant light flashbang went out and effected everyone present. Stopping the others in mid fight with the crab, as well as nullifying the crab itself.
When everyone including myself could see again the floating crystaline island had changed in color, its crystals a brilliant blue, but its crackling energy now a grayish dull color. A energy shield of orange was wrapped in an impenetrable bubble around the island. My portal stood prominently in the center of everything. "It's over, that's got it good", I confidently stated knowing that my statement was true.
One of the men, stepped forward, a man in robes who looked quite muscular; "what sort of force-use was that he asked- I could feel a presence but-". I was confused for all of a millisecond then I noticed the lightsaber at his hip, obviously this was some sort of Jedi.
"Don't worry about it", was all I said in response, "we should exit this place fast".
That was really all it took for everyone to start moving, and with a couple flashes of blue as we stepped back through the portal, we were back in the convention center; minus one guy in biological power armor and plus one giant sleeping crab monster.
Looking across the hall, Lung himself was stuck half transformed, a giant of a man, who bore a deformed face. Yet he was also now serene and calm, sitting in a lotus position. Someone with Spiderman's powers had wrapped him up in a metric ton of webbing. The wall was still broken, and briefly looking out at the destroyed parking lot again I saw a city on fire and several kaiju in the distance, a scene I very pointedly put out of my mind at that moment and tried not to think about again.
Near the portal, which was still open, as it was no longer connected to me at all; there was a large group which welcomed us happily. A crowd that was modified and split up, as soon as I told them what I had done, some of them went inside the portal I had made; and I wondered what they were possibly going to do in there but that didn't matter. I might have been caught up in a fight but I still had a cluster of Ex-Borg to save.
I found Sh'rrel fairly quickly, and luckily she had found a healer while I had been off fighting the Lung parasitic crystal thing. It was a green and white Pokémon of all things, Gardevoir I recognized instantly, and I couldn't tell if they remembered being human at all because when they briefly spoke they just said their name like in the anime. Regardless they were clinging to Sh'rrel's fuzzy arm with a three fingered death grip, and my magical senses found that they were bonded.
We nodded to each other, nothing really needing to be said, and began to make our way back to the Star Trek part of the convention.
It turned out to be a good thing that we stopped to stare though, the Star Wars convention was down the hall a little ways, and there was a forcefield cutting off a branching hallway path sightly up ahead from where we were, surrounded by clone-troopers who were trying and failing to control the situation.
From within the double doors that led to the Star Wars area of the con, there was the sound of blaster fire, and the hiss of lightsabers, alongside some sounds I couldn't identify. Worryingly my magical senses screamed danger when I even focused them in the vague vicinity of the room.
"Where too", Sh'rrel justifiably asked, as she looked around nervously at my side, pawing for a phaser that was no longer there.
"To be honest I don't know", I started walking in the opposite direction of the roadblock which the Clone troopers had set up. "Lets walk this way, too much danger going on over there- and hope we run across a healer: I think Marvel was down this way or something".
"Marvel"? Sh'rrel questioned, all but confirming something I already heavily suspected, which was that whoever she'd been she'd lost herself into the role of a Caitian science officer. Marvel was just too large to be an completely unknown name.
"Not important", I shot back, "but superheros; people with supernatural abilities like straight up healing people with a touch". I pointed at a Green Lantern, who had barreled right past us glowing green, headed towards the Star Wars room for some reason.
Sh'rrel just looked a little more shell-shocked than she had previously, all she did was nod.
On our way down the hallways we passed by several people who I recognized to have healing powers, but none of them stopped to talk. They were all in various degrees of hurry, and even though I attempted to yell out at each of them, they just moved past me. I could only hope that one of them did decide to visit the Star Trek area and heal the dying Ex-Borg there.
Another thing I saw was the occasional few untransformed people being led by a transformed person presumably to some exit, though we didn't pass that many, due to the cons unique free entry to people in cosplay contests; practically everyone in the con was costumed to some extent.
It wasn't exactly the 'Marvel' section of the con we arrived at, it was more like a general clumping together of the concept of superheroes. I saw perhaps one too many Batmen in the crowd that greeted us within the room, all of them were tense, and there were a few minor fights breaking out; but a lot of the villains present were tied up together in a central area that was watched over by several people. It seemed that we had arrived at a relatively safe part of the con the perfect place to look for a healer really, even if I couldn't quite recall any superpowered characters with healing powers, I knew they existed; I'd known that there may not have been any but I had to hope that at least one person bothered to cosplay as a healer here.
"So do we just ask"? Sh'rrel questioned, frowning at the noise and sheer sardine-can-like packness of the room.
"I suppose", I shrugged, "let me get their attention". I then began to prepare a voice enhancing spell, like an instant megaphone, but before I could get anywhere with it; one of the walls closest to us burst open (revealing behind it a large and completely trashed up parking lot that was on fire). A large shirtless man walked through it, while fire seemed to pop out of thin air around him. His body was beginning to morph and change into something more draconic, and he had a metal mask adorning his face.
"Oh shit", I said, caught off guard instead of casting my megaphone spell, while a whole cluster of superheroes began to indiscriminately attack the man. Sh'rrel yelped and began looking for something, presumably a weapon.
The man, who now had several holes in his body, laughed as a spiderweb ineffectively burnt off of his chest. His wound simply began to close up faster than they had before, and he looked less human now, with scales lining his body and his mask having fallen off of his face to reveal a four segmented mouth. He laughed- and out garbled my lips not meant to speak came "who dares fight Lung"- before being punched in the face by an Iron Man suit and stumbling backwards a bit.
"We should maybe go elsewhere", I said in cowardice.
Sh'rrel picked up a knife she'd found lying on the ground, it looked like a glass dagger from skyrim, and I had no idea what it was doing there; but that was unimportant. It was clear she wanted to help fight somehow. I was not going to just leave her there, considering she had no powers whatsoever.
One would think in a room full of powered people, fights would be over in an instant, but I had a hunch that a lot of people in that room were not overwritten by the personalities of their characters. Besides the big fellow, Lung he called himself, seemed pretty strong anyways, some sort of busted regeneration.
Not wanting a repeat of the Borg situation, I resolved just to make a beam or something instead of an expanding dome. I filled my head with visions of fire extinguishers. Then spoke, "Fire Fire, Die tonight", ending the phrase by spitting. It was lucky that I kept ending up far away from the action, all of my spell work required at least some small degree of preparation and deliberation.
A beam of dark light, sprung out of the tip of my staff and blasted off towards Lung, who had just gotten larger and more reptilian in the scant seconds it had taken me to act. It poured onto him with several other miscellaneous attacks, and the large dragon man looked for a second like he was genuinely getting hurt; but he just grew taller instead and he was starting to grow tiny little wings along his mutated back.
One of the Batmen took that moment to yell, "stop attacking"! But my spell was sustained, a line leading from me to Lung, before I could shut it off and listen to the random Batmans advice, lungs eyes locked with mine and a large glob of fire swooshed in at my face.
I Tried to doge, lunging to the side and letting my spell peter out, but the fire hit me anyways right on the short cloak that was part of the regal clothes I was wearing (Sh'rrel at this point had ducked behind a stall and had gone who knows where). I unclasped the cloak before the fire could spread, but not before Lung threw another large fireball my way, though before it could reach me; it was thankfully blocked by a green energy construct from a very alien looking green lantern.
I cursed under my breath anyways, I was far too slow to react to stuff like this, if I was to be getting into fights I had to remember not everyone moved as slow as the Borg. So I just began to run around, and Lung lost sight of me in the crowd. I noted that someone had erected an energy field of some sort around the supervillains sitting tied up in the center of the room still.
I very much wasn't looking where I was going but as fire and the noises of a superhero fight rang our around me, I knew I had to do something, yet I was stressed and could not think at that moment.
It was by luck perhaps that I almost ran horns-first into a man who had been turned into Deadpool. He spoke exactly like one would expect Deadpool to speak yet clearly was not him. "Thats a character from Worm-uh Parahumans by Wildbow, the powers come from weird extra-dimensional space-computer crystal things". He stuttered. "I-I was told that would help you, I guess, oh jeez this is weird; I can tell you are just a halfway SI meant to play to the author's exact power fantasy". He clasped his hands over his masked mouth. "I'm sorry"-
The guy with Deadpool's powerset started to apologize profusely but I cut him off, "whatever- thanks"; I said waving the hand of mine that was not currently clutching my silver staff in a death grip. Internally I just discarded the last part about me being an SI and having an author, unimportant and slightly crazy. I did however consider the point which the guy had just made about extra-dimensional crystal computers; my mind concocting another spell.
I thought about portals, and dimensions, and connections; hoping it would be enough then I instead of talking looked around for something- anything to draw on the floor with. There wasn't much around for drawing directly, but I did find a stall selling t-shirts with predictably superheroes on them, I started to grab at them by the bundle, throwing them onto the floor, and nudging them into a circle with a hoof. I had a rough ring in no time. In the corner of my vision I could see fire and smoke spreading, I had to hurry up.
Wasting no more time, I spoke, "Portal, Connection, Dragon, Crystal". A flickering circular pane of blue formed slightly above the circle of shirts. I poured more concepts into the metaphorical fire, and several people nearby had noticed me; and I sucked in a breath as the fight with Lung came closer. "Dimensions, Control, Source". I continued and that was enough for the portal to fully form, though I couldn't see the other side.
In an instant, there were several people around me, most of them I couldn't recognize, without wasting time examining them; I shouted pointing at my portal. "This should lead to that man's power source we need to destroy it".
I got several affirmatives, but I was the first to actually take my portal. What greeted me on the other side, was a platform of cackling orange quartz, energy of burning red passing between jutting crystalline structures like neurons. I stepped forward, and behind me the people who I'd gotten the attention of poured in.
Two of them, immediately for no discernible reason, threw themselves into the void at the edge of the platform for no discernible reason before anyone could stop them. A man in blue power armor with a halberd and an absolutely gorgeous beard, and a young girl wearing some sort of insect suit with yellow lenses.
The clothes stood gawking for a moment, but did not stop for conversation, beginning to smash the jutting forest of crystal that stood off to one side of the platform.
I myself held a very different problem, there were alien eyes boring into the back of my head, reaching with gossamer puppet strings. I dodged, with both my magic and physical body and they shot past me, hitting the back of a man wearing organic looking crablike power armor.
The man then almost immediately proceeded to merge with whatever armor he was wearing, and his form got bigger and more crablike, until there was a giant angry crab on the crystal platform with us.
I reacted the quickest, as the others were still busy chopping away at crystal, "Barrage, Force, Knockout" I yelled, thrusting my staff forward like a rapier, and causing a cluster of small ball peen hammers to fly out, pelting the crabs chitin and doing no more than that.
It rushed at me with speed that should not belong to a giant crab, and before I knew it my right arm holding my silver staff had all of its bones broken and crushed in a pincer. My staff dropped to the ground.
Again someone else came to my rescue, a man wearing some sort of orange armor lobbed a grenade at the arm joint of the crab. It somehow stuck to the chitin of the crab, and detonated, the crab made a yowling sound and dropped me. I landed flat on my back.
"There's a presence here" I yelled out, "don't let yourself get grabbed; it looks like a thin string"!
I heard several variations of "got it", and looked around for my staff, spotting it a few meters away. The man in the orange armor, spat out several more bombs from his strangely cartoony grenade launcher, which landed in front of the big crab; it seemed afraid of them. Which bought me time to recollect myself and my staff standing back up on my own two hooves, and also bought time for the others in this strange realm with me to arrive encircling the big beastie.
"I need a little bit of time to cast a spell that should end this", I shouted while my right arm hung loosely at my side and my left held my staff awkwardly, "please protect me".
With that, I began with a simple bit of levitation, bringing crystalline shards into a floaty orbit around my body. I then checked my mana reserves which I hadn't done earlier because I simply knew that my reserves were quite large, it turned out that they were halfway empty, and doing this would bring me down to a quarter of my full capacity. Regardless I started to shout out concepts challenging the invisible presence I was beginning to feel all around me. "Control, Isolation, Cut-Off, Ineffective, Machine".
The presence rose up to meet me and the physical world stopped mattering very much at that moment. {Conqueror rises to meet me I have slain kings of many men} it spoke in a jittering non-speech, and my spell faltered slightly.
I had been expecting resistance, "War-beast, Law, Tool, Mount, Plate-mail".
{I am mighty, I am free}, it rebutted, its words feeling like oil in my ears. I felt a physical weight bearing down on my physical body, though nothing touched it.
I simply said what felt right, "Organ, Dead Meat-thing, Directives, Computer; Reproduction".
That shut it up, its voice falteringly letting out its last words as my spell took effect, {Insolent, little, tiny man- Krk}. In the physical space of whatever dimension we found ourselves in, a radiant light flashbang went out and effected everyone present. Stopping the others in mid fight with the crab, as well as nullifying the crab itself.
When everyone including myself could see again the floating crystaline island had changed in color, its crystals a brilliant blue, but its crackling energy now a grayish dull color. A energy shield of orange was wrapped in an impenetrable bubble around the island. My portal stood prominently in the center of everything. "It's over, that's got it good", I confidently stated knowing that my statement was true.
One of the men, stepped forward, a man in robes who looked quite muscular; "what sort of force-use was that he asked- I could feel a presence but-". I was confused for all of a millisecond then I noticed the lightsaber at his hip, obviously this was some sort of Jedi.
"Don't worry about it", was all I said in response, "we should exit this place fast".
That was really all it took for everyone to start moving, and with a couple flashes of blue as we stepped back through the portal, we were back in the convention center; minus one guy in biological power armor and plus one giant sleeping crab monster.
Looking across the hall, Lung himself was stuck half transformed, a giant of a man, who bore a deformed face. Yet he was also now serene and calm, sitting in a lotus position. Someone with Spiderman's powers had wrapped him up in a metric ton of webbing. The wall was still broken, and briefly looking out at the destroyed parking lot again I saw a city on fire and several kaiju in the distance, a scene I very pointedly put out of my mind at that moment and tried not to think about again.
Near the portal, which was still open, as it was no longer connected to me at all; there was a large group which welcomed us happily. A crowd that was modified and split up, as soon as I told them what I had done, some of them went inside the portal I had made; and I wondered what they were possibly going to do in there but that didn't matter. I might have been caught up in a fight but I still had a cluster of Ex-Borg to save.
I found Sh'rrel fairly quickly, and luckily she had found a healer while I had been off fighting the Lung parasitic crystal thing. It was a green and white Pokémon of all things, Gardevoir I recognized instantly, and I couldn't tell if they remembered being human at all because when they briefly spoke they just said their name like in the anime. Regardless they were clinging to Sh'rrel's fuzzy arm with a three fingered death grip, and my magical senses found that they were bonded.
We nodded to each other, nothing really needing to be said, and began to make our way back to the Star Trek part of the convention.
Interlude: Sci-fi Cat-Girl Time!
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
I watched as Alexander blasted the impossible growing man with a beam of black something, promptly deciding that whatever this was, it was something out of my league.
I still felt a desire to help though, despite the fact That whatever this place was, it was a madhouse of crazy abilities: only some of which could be explained by technology (and I held no power of my own aside from a dagger that I had found discarded on the ground).
That didn't mean I wasn't going to help, I had followed the deer-man entity who called himself Alexander, not for no reason, but because he seemed to know where help could be found. I needed to find help fast, my fucking girlfriend of six years was lying on shitty flooring convulsing and probably going crazy from the echos of the Borg collective she'd likely been exposed to by… the implants forced under her skin leaving infected cuts- an eye missing alongside other things.
Yeah I had to find help, but that was Proving difficult especially since I'd been caught up in some sort of all out conflict or apocalypse of some sort: on some sort of planet that either was earth or something close enough to pass.
I didn't fully believe Alexander's story, entities like him were well known for playing screwed up games: and besides I didn't remember any other life but my own (my tail, my fur, my glorious mane had always been a part of me).
I was at a loss for what to do, I couldn't attack the giant fellow effectively, not without a phaser; but I looked around the room regardless. It didn't take long to find someone to help, a girl who looked like an earth-sheep in heavy robes pinned under a wooden beam as fire encroached on her.
Yes, I thought, as I always felt better with clear goals to accomplish.
I had to push past several people, but getting to the trapped girl was the easy part.
"Are you alright miss", are the first words out of my mouth.
I get a "yes" in response, and the wooden beam isn't too hard to shift off of her legs. She doesn't thank me though, just rushes off into the fight among a bunch of crazy people in multi-colored costumes. I immediately lose track of her, the sounds are just a touch too overwhelming for my sensitive ears, the sheer closeness of so many bodies in this not honestly all that big building also causing a somewhat foul stench as well (exaggerated by the burning parts of the room).
She looked like a stereotypical healer, white robes and all, that I knew from playing holodeck DnD on my off-duty shifts with the human crew. I'd hoped to ask her, but she was already gone, and there was no point dwelling on it till the fight was over.
I was aimless for all of a few moments before I felt someone tackle me to the ground, a gray man with Vulcan ears and red eyes, I had no idea where he'd come from, and he had me in a wrestling hold. His expression looked pretty pissed off and stressed too, as he let go of one of my arms to reach for the weird dagger I'd previously tucked into my belt.
My tactical training came in handy here, and within seconds I'd flipped around and reversed things on the gray-skinned vulcanoid, "my dagger, you filthy Khajiit, give me my dagger". He writhed around in his position underneath me.
"I don't think so", I said deliberately, pressing into his flesh with the tips of my clawed hands, "I'm not giving anyone who attacks rabidly before asking, a weapon".
"You filthy N'wah", he spat, "I'll tan your hide for this". Then he did something unexpected, but also something that I probably should have seen coming given how so many people here seemed to have supernatural abilities. His hands lit up in cackling electricity, and singed my fur, causing me to lose my grip on him.
Both of us scrambled to our respective feet, and my siltted eyes narrowed tunneling in on my opponent. I took a martial stance, and prepared myself to leap forward at him, the only thing my opponent did was scoff and raise his gray skinned hands in a lazy motion.
Then my world became nothing but bright blue pain, like I'd just been shocked by a malfunctioning energy conduit, except way worse; I could feel my body convulsing and falling over onto the floor. Somehow though the lighting wasn't acting like it should've been, and was only tearing into my body in a thousand bloody cuts; I screamed and then my hand hit a button on a discarded object neither of us had seen on the floor.
It was the only thing that saved me, as the sudden outpouring of bright white light distracted the gray man, enough that whatever he was doing to generate his attack faded; allowing me a moment to recuperate and hiss in a breath at my new injuries.
The bright light formed in front of me, from my position lying prone on the floor (it hurt but I took the chance to get up), a blob of white in a vaguely humanoid, a little shorter than I was but with exaggerated proportions. The light faded as soon as it had come.
It revealed a green and white creature that had a red horn in its head and a red protrusion on its chest. Its large red eyes locked onto the gray skinned man, and it let out an angry toned single word. "Gardevoir"! It screeched in what sounded more like an animal howl than words; before it let out a beam of pink light from an overly thin three fingered hand.
The Gray man jumped to the side in time to avoid the beam, but I was already up, and though it hurt to walk; I managed to circle my way around to the right side of where the man was standing. Distracted as he was, he didn't notice me as my hand came down hard on a specific area on the back of his neck in a Vulcan nerve pinch.
He collapsed to the floor, and I took the opportunity to lean against a nearby stall, my right leg felt like I couldn't walk on it.
The strange creature evidently had other ideas, one hand clutching the red and white ball it had inexplicably popped out of, it raised its other arm; and let out a soft pink pulse of light that hit me before I could react.
"Garde-", the creature purred, as bizarrely all my wounds dripping with red blood and ripped fur, began to reverse in on themselves in a tingly sensation, not unlike that of the medical tools I was familiar with, just without any visible technology on the creature's form.
There was still a battle raging around us (I got horrible tunnel vision when I fought), but with nothing I could do to affect it, I focused on the creature who was standing in front of me. A healer of some sort, even my aching right leg felt fine when it had been sharply painful to walk on earlier, I was thinking of a way to recruit them; perhaps an offer of food or something; but the issue was solved for me in short order.
The creature let out a happy little bark of "gar", and gave me it's ball, the strange thing obviously a piece of technology now that I was holding it in my hands: it looked like I had just found my healer. Now the only thing left to do was, get back to Lily, get this strange looking humanoid to heal her (and the other Ex-Borg too). Then… well, at this point I'd revised my stance on the situation we were in, it felt too real; I didn't know what I was going to do next after I got my girlfriend hale and hearty… So any thought of that could come later, for now I just had to wait for the situation with the big giant guy to be over.
I still felt a desire to help though, despite the fact That whatever this place was, it was a madhouse of crazy abilities: only some of which could be explained by technology (and I held no power of my own aside from a dagger that I had found discarded on the ground).
That didn't mean I wasn't going to help, I had followed the deer-man entity who called himself Alexander, not for no reason, but because he seemed to know where help could be found. I needed to find help fast, my fucking girlfriend of six years was lying on shitty flooring convulsing and probably going crazy from the echos of the Borg collective she'd likely been exposed to by… the implants forced under her skin leaving infected cuts- an eye missing alongside other things.
Yeah I had to find help, but that was Proving difficult especially since I'd been caught up in some sort of all out conflict or apocalypse of some sort: on some sort of planet that either was earth or something close enough to pass.
I didn't fully believe Alexander's story, entities like him were well known for playing screwed up games: and besides I didn't remember any other life but my own (my tail, my fur, my glorious mane had always been a part of me).
I was at a loss for what to do, I couldn't attack the giant fellow effectively, not without a phaser; but I looked around the room regardless. It didn't take long to find someone to help, a girl who looked like an earth-sheep in heavy robes pinned under a wooden beam as fire encroached on her.
Yes, I thought, as I always felt better with clear goals to accomplish.
I had to push past several people, but getting to the trapped girl was the easy part.
"Are you alright miss", are the first words out of my mouth.
I get a "yes" in response, and the wooden beam isn't too hard to shift off of her legs. She doesn't thank me though, just rushes off into the fight among a bunch of crazy people in multi-colored costumes. I immediately lose track of her, the sounds are just a touch too overwhelming for my sensitive ears, the sheer closeness of so many bodies in this not honestly all that big building also causing a somewhat foul stench as well (exaggerated by the burning parts of the room).
She looked like a stereotypical healer, white robes and all, that I knew from playing holodeck DnD on my off-duty shifts with the human crew. I'd hoped to ask her, but she was already gone, and there was no point dwelling on it till the fight was over.
I was aimless for all of a few moments before I felt someone tackle me to the ground, a gray man with Vulcan ears and red eyes, I had no idea where he'd come from, and he had me in a wrestling hold. His expression looked pretty pissed off and stressed too, as he let go of one of my arms to reach for the weird dagger I'd previously tucked into my belt.
My tactical training came in handy here, and within seconds I'd flipped around and reversed things on the gray-skinned vulcanoid, "my dagger, you filthy Khajiit, give me my dagger". He writhed around in his position underneath me.
"I don't think so", I said deliberately, pressing into his flesh with the tips of my clawed hands, "I'm not giving anyone who attacks rabidly before asking, a weapon".
"You filthy N'wah", he spat, "I'll tan your hide for this". Then he did something unexpected, but also something that I probably should have seen coming given how so many people here seemed to have supernatural abilities. His hands lit up in cackling electricity, and singed my fur, causing me to lose my grip on him.
Both of us scrambled to our respective feet, and my siltted eyes narrowed tunneling in on my opponent. I took a martial stance, and prepared myself to leap forward at him, the only thing my opponent did was scoff and raise his gray skinned hands in a lazy motion.
Then my world became nothing but bright blue pain, like I'd just been shocked by a malfunctioning energy conduit, except way worse; I could feel my body convulsing and falling over onto the floor. Somehow though the lighting wasn't acting like it should've been, and was only tearing into my body in a thousand bloody cuts; I screamed and then my hand hit a button on a discarded object neither of us had seen on the floor.
It was the only thing that saved me, as the sudden outpouring of bright white light distracted the gray man, enough that whatever he was doing to generate his attack faded; allowing me a moment to recuperate and hiss in a breath at my new injuries.
The bright light formed in front of me, from my position lying prone on the floor (it hurt but I took the chance to get up), a blob of white in a vaguely humanoid, a little shorter than I was but with exaggerated proportions. The light faded as soon as it had come.
It revealed a green and white creature that had a red horn in its head and a red protrusion on its chest. Its large red eyes locked onto the gray skinned man, and it let out an angry toned single word. "Gardevoir"! It screeched in what sounded more like an animal howl than words; before it let out a beam of pink light from an overly thin three fingered hand.
The Gray man jumped to the side in time to avoid the beam, but I was already up, and though it hurt to walk; I managed to circle my way around to the right side of where the man was standing. Distracted as he was, he didn't notice me as my hand came down hard on a specific area on the back of his neck in a Vulcan nerve pinch.
He collapsed to the floor, and I took the opportunity to lean against a nearby stall, my right leg felt like I couldn't walk on it.
The strange creature evidently had other ideas, one hand clutching the red and white ball it had inexplicably popped out of, it raised its other arm; and let out a soft pink pulse of light that hit me before I could react.
"Garde-", the creature purred, as bizarrely all my wounds dripping with red blood and ripped fur, began to reverse in on themselves in a tingly sensation, not unlike that of the medical tools I was familiar with, just without any visible technology on the creature's form.
There was still a battle raging around us (I got horrible tunnel vision when I fought), but with nothing I could do to affect it, I focused on the creature who was standing in front of me. A healer of some sort, even my aching right leg felt fine when it had been sharply painful to walk on earlier, I was thinking of a way to recruit them; perhaps an offer of food or something; but the issue was solved for me in short order.
The creature let out a happy little bark of "gar", and gave me it's ball, the strange thing obviously a piece of technology now that I was holding it in my hands: it looked like I had just found my healer. Now the only thing left to do was, get back to Lily, get this strange looking humanoid to heal her (and the other Ex-Borg too). Then… well, at this point I'd revised my stance on the situation we were in, it felt too real; I didn't know what I was going to do next after I got my girlfriend hale and hearty… So any thought of that could come later, for now I just had to wait for the situation with the big giant guy to be over.
Chapter 3: Mage Vs BS.
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
We stepped back out into the hallway, our apparent healer in tow, a Gardevoir, one of the most popular pokemon; they'd be useful in healing the Ex-Borg for sure I was pretty sure Gardevoirs could learn some sort of healing move.
There wasn't much left to do then, but walk back to the Star Trek area, and fix my mistake- afterwards… Well I wasn't certain, but I had enough oomph behind my magic that I could probably do something about those Kaiju I'd briefly seen outside.
The hallways were still a hectic mess, we may have stopped one rampaging guy, but that didn't mean there wasn't a lot of mundane panic going around.
Except, as I watched a homestuck troll run down the hallway, and got out of the way in time to avoid bumping into a guy who looked like a sparkledog (who was clearly not really aware of his surroundings). It looked more like at least a few people were intentionally fleeing from something… Something in the direction we had originally come from.
"Let's be careful", I needlessly pointed out to my two companions, as we crept along the hallway.
What greeted us when we got back close to where we started was another scene of chaos. Which I suppose made sense given that it hadn't honestly been that long since the wave of magic had struck the convention, and it did not appear anyone had successfully started to organize people yet.
The hallway in front of us was host to a fight scene, a large minotaur looking guy casually batting away blaster fire from a cowering Clone trooper, as the minotaur casually punched a fancy looking guy with a lightsaber directly through a wall; with big muscular arms that had glowing blue runic tattoos engraved into the skin beneath the brown shaggy fur.
"Hah", the big guy laughed, before his gaze was drawn to where our group had stopped frozen. "Who are you supposed to be" he narrowed his eyes, and I sensed his gaze as it fell over me like a curtain. "Another power-tripping fool"? He accused, the words coming out harshly from his snarling muzzle.
"We need to get by you", Sh'rrel spoke up, "there were people badly injured over there-" she gestured past the minotaur. "We went to look for someone to heal them, and you are blocking the hallway". A true statement, the minotaur was indeed almost too large to fit in the building, though it didn't seem to bother the large bull-headed man any.
"I can sense magic from you", he said scowling as he pointed a meaty finger at my face, "but I can't sense its particulars; tell me what you are capable off Deer-boy or I won't let you pass".
Being singled out like this really wasn't a good sensation, butterflies were abound in my stomach; something about this minotaur let off the feeling that if I misspoke he would immediately proceed with beating me to a pulp. I didn't know what his deal was but it seemed he had a chip in his shoulder.
"Why do you want to know"? I asked a reasonable question, beside me Sh'rrel gave me a glare that said 'just tell him idiot' as the Gardevoir hid behind her.
"Just tell me", the Minotaur growled out, stomping a hoof, and snorting.
"Fine", I sighed, my mind on the people I'd left broken on the convention floor at the start of all this. "Anything I want, given enough time, that's a good enough answer for you"?
"No", the minotaur stated flatly, before a giant fist swooped down at me, fairly telegraphed enough that dodging it hadn't been hard. This man wanted a fight, and the spirit I could see burning in his eyes indicated he couldn't be easily persuaded to back down.
I gripped my silver staff, "Shield" I yelled out in haste not bothering to specifically visualize anything, magic rushed out of my staff surrounding me in a purple bubble; I had no way to tell how strong the shield was.
The minotaur wasted no time rushing at me, in a lunging tackle, the bubble popped the second he touched it; I lashed out with my staff thrusting out with it.
That was enough to deflect most of the blow, but I still got knocked backwards. There was killing intent behind that tackle.
"Why you"! The Minotaur raged at my refusal to crumple under-hoof, as I began to back away, raising my staff; this time focusing on the circlet that still sat securely on my head (and that I had honestly forgotten I was wearing despite it being fairly important to my magic). This guy was significantly stronger than me physically, all bulky muscle under the stringy brown fur that covered his entire body, and unlike the Lung fellow he was actually focused on me. I needed to match him.
It didn't take me that long to think of what to do next, focusing on my crown (the circlet) and my staff, I envisioned another form; a forest king. It would take pretty much all of my mana away until I could rest and regenerate it, but it would grant me strength enough to match the minotaur.
"Sorcerer-", I began my short chant pouring all my mana into it as the minotaur reoriented himself after charge (the small hallway walls being a boon in this case). "Morph, Alternate, Celestial". I hurriedly garbled as the Minotaur started to come in for another punch, the remains of the transformative spell that had started all of this aiding the casting along. I leapt backward as purple energy enveloped my form in a tidal wave, I also heard screaming- I closed my eyes briefly.
When I opened them again my form was different, and large, meeting the giant Minotaur at head height; though my new body was longer.
"Get to the injured", I said my voice radiating outward, as my new more feral body lowered into a fighting stance, horns of glowing purple pointed forwards in challenge; as the Minotaur halted to reassess me. Sh'rrel took that advice, and sprinted down the hallway, the Gardevoir dragging behind her clutching her hand.
The Minotaur spoke as he looked at my quadrupedal form, "knew you were like me, someone who dreamed of power", he said dismissively, "I've already stopped a dozen others like us from changing the world at their leisure". He made a beckoning gesture, inviting me to attack him. "You won't be any different".
I snorted and lunged at him aiming to impale, he could probably survive it, he barely made any moves to react. Yet the second my majestic horns should have disabled the threat, instead I found myself flipped over on my back, the minotaur standing over me with a smirk on his muzzle; the blue tattoos he bore glowing slightly. "With my will I can do anything".
His fist came at my prone form lighting up a bright blue, there was no way I could have evaded the blow conventionally; but… well this man was talking about power fantasies I could provide.
My new form wasn't flesh or matter, I was inhabiting a mana construct, that meant I could shape myself. So I turned into a gaseous form the second before his spell laden fist crashed into and ended me. Where a Glowing purple stag once lay prone there was now a mess of glittery lavender smoke.
I reformed my head to float above him, but he caught on quickly, and I shifted to the side as a bright blue bolt whizzed past. "COWARD"! The minotaur yelled.
Thinking briefly over a plan, I goaded him on, "you can't hit me"! I laughed.
It seemed that his form influenced his behavior somewhat more than mine did, he took the bait almost instantly. Several more blue projectiles came flying at my disembodied Stag head. Exactly what I wanted.
"Eat", I said under my breath as my mana had recovered a little…
Then I maneuvered my floating head around the sky and simply ate the projectiles like Pac-man eating pellets. Must've looked weird to the few minor onlookers that were still around.
I had mana reserves back now, taking the minotaur's mana and making it mine, the end of this fight wasn't that far away.
"COWARD"! The minotaur repeated, "fight and die like a man"! He swiped at me with a glowing blue poleaxe that came out of nowhere, what parts of my gas-like form it hit burned; the mana holding my form together destabilizing. That was alright though, I wouldn't need it much longer.
"Sleep, Labyrinth, Prison, Lock". I screamed, stripping myself of the Mana-form and channeling its constitute mana all into the spell I was casting. I was distantly aware of my physical body falling to the floor with an oomph.
The Minotaur didn't even see what hit him, as he fell over unconscious.
That over, I prayed for no other fights popping up out of nowhere, and limped down the hallway…
There wasn't much left to do then, but walk back to the Star Trek area, and fix my mistake- afterwards… Well I wasn't certain, but I had enough oomph behind my magic that I could probably do something about those Kaiju I'd briefly seen outside.
The hallways were still a hectic mess, we may have stopped one rampaging guy, but that didn't mean there wasn't a lot of mundane panic going around.
Except, as I watched a homestuck troll run down the hallway, and got out of the way in time to avoid bumping into a guy who looked like a sparkledog (who was clearly not really aware of his surroundings). It looked more like at least a few people were intentionally fleeing from something… Something in the direction we had originally come from.
"Let's be careful", I needlessly pointed out to my two companions, as we crept along the hallway.
What greeted us when we got back close to where we started was another scene of chaos. Which I suppose made sense given that it hadn't honestly been that long since the wave of magic had struck the convention, and it did not appear anyone had successfully started to organize people yet.
The hallway in front of us was host to a fight scene, a large minotaur looking guy casually batting away blaster fire from a cowering Clone trooper, as the minotaur casually punched a fancy looking guy with a lightsaber directly through a wall; with big muscular arms that had glowing blue runic tattoos engraved into the skin beneath the brown shaggy fur.
"Hah", the big guy laughed, before his gaze was drawn to where our group had stopped frozen. "Who are you supposed to be" he narrowed his eyes, and I sensed his gaze as it fell over me like a curtain. "Another power-tripping fool"? He accused, the words coming out harshly from his snarling muzzle.
"We need to get by you", Sh'rrel spoke up, "there were people badly injured over there-" she gestured past the minotaur. "We went to look for someone to heal them, and you are blocking the hallway". A true statement, the minotaur was indeed almost too large to fit in the building, though it didn't seem to bother the large bull-headed man any.
"I can sense magic from you", he said scowling as he pointed a meaty finger at my face, "but I can't sense its particulars; tell me what you are capable off Deer-boy or I won't let you pass".
Being singled out like this really wasn't a good sensation, butterflies were abound in my stomach; something about this minotaur let off the feeling that if I misspoke he would immediately proceed with beating me to a pulp. I didn't know what his deal was but it seemed he had a chip in his shoulder.
"Why do you want to know"? I asked a reasonable question, beside me Sh'rrel gave me a glare that said 'just tell him idiot' as the Gardevoir hid behind her.
"Just tell me", the Minotaur growled out, stomping a hoof, and snorting.
"Fine", I sighed, my mind on the people I'd left broken on the convention floor at the start of all this. "Anything I want, given enough time, that's a good enough answer for you"?
"No", the minotaur stated flatly, before a giant fist swooped down at me, fairly telegraphed enough that dodging it hadn't been hard. This man wanted a fight, and the spirit I could see burning in his eyes indicated he couldn't be easily persuaded to back down.
I gripped my silver staff, "Shield" I yelled out in haste not bothering to specifically visualize anything, magic rushed out of my staff surrounding me in a purple bubble; I had no way to tell how strong the shield was.
The minotaur wasted no time rushing at me, in a lunging tackle, the bubble popped the second he touched it; I lashed out with my staff thrusting out with it.
That was enough to deflect most of the blow, but I still got knocked backwards. There was killing intent behind that tackle.
"Why you"! The Minotaur raged at my refusal to crumple under-hoof, as I began to back away, raising my staff; this time focusing on the circlet that still sat securely on my head (and that I had honestly forgotten I was wearing despite it being fairly important to my magic). This guy was significantly stronger than me physically, all bulky muscle under the stringy brown fur that covered his entire body, and unlike the Lung fellow he was actually focused on me. I needed to match him.
It didn't take me that long to think of what to do next, focusing on my crown (the circlet) and my staff, I envisioned another form; a forest king. It would take pretty much all of my mana away until I could rest and regenerate it, but it would grant me strength enough to match the minotaur.
"Sorcerer-", I began my short chant pouring all my mana into it as the minotaur reoriented himself after charge (the small hallway walls being a boon in this case). "Morph, Alternate, Celestial". I hurriedly garbled as the Minotaur started to come in for another punch, the remains of the transformative spell that had started all of this aiding the casting along. I leapt backward as purple energy enveloped my form in a tidal wave, I also heard screaming- I closed my eyes briefly.
When I opened them again my form was different, and large, meeting the giant Minotaur at head height; though my new body was longer.
"Get to the injured", I said my voice radiating outward, as my new more feral body lowered into a fighting stance, horns of glowing purple pointed forwards in challenge; as the Minotaur halted to reassess me. Sh'rrel took that advice, and sprinted down the hallway, the Gardevoir dragging behind her clutching her hand.
The Minotaur spoke as he looked at my quadrupedal form, "knew you were like me, someone who dreamed of power", he said dismissively, "I've already stopped a dozen others like us from changing the world at their leisure". He made a beckoning gesture, inviting me to attack him. "You won't be any different".
I snorted and lunged at him aiming to impale, he could probably survive it, he barely made any moves to react. Yet the second my majestic horns should have disabled the threat, instead I found myself flipped over on my back, the minotaur standing over me with a smirk on his muzzle; the blue tattoos he bore glowing slightly. "With my will I can do anything".
His fist came at my prone form lighting up a bright blue, there was no way I could have evaded the blow conventionally; but… well this man was talking about power fantasies I could provide.
My new form wasn't flesh or matter, I was inhabiting a mana construct, that meant I could shape myself. So I turned into a gaseous form the second before his spell laden fist crashed into and ended me. Where a Glowing purple stag once lay prone there was now a mess of glittery lavender smoke.
I reformed my head to float above him, but he caught on quickly, and I shifted to the side as a bright blue bolt whizzed past. "COWARD"! The minotaur yelled.
Thinking briefly over a plan, I goaded him on, "you can't hit me"! I laughed.
It seemed that his form influenced his behavior somewhat more than mine did, he took the bait almost instantly. Several more blue projectiles came flying at my disembodied Stag head. Exactly what I wanted.
"Eat", I said under my breath as my mana had recovered a little…
Then I maneuvered my floating head around the sky and simply ate the projectiles like Pac-man eating pellets. Must've looked weird to the few minor onlookers that were still around.
I had mana reserves back now, taking the minotaur's mana and making it mine, the end of this fight wasn't that far away.
"COWARD"! The minotaur repeated, "fight and die like a man"! He swiped at me with a glowing blue poleaxe that came out of nowhere, what parts of my gas-like form it hit burned; the mana holding my form together destabilizing. That was alright though, I wouldn't need it much longer.
"Sleep, Labyrinth, Prison, Lock". I screamed, stripping myself of the Mana-form and channeling its constitute mana all into the spell I was casting. I was distantly aware of my physical body falling to the floor with an oomph.
The Minotaur didn't even see what hit him, as he fell over unconscious.
That over, I prayed for no other fights popping up out of nowhere, and limped down the hallway…
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Chapter 4: Mage Vs Canvas (A Very Short Epilogue)
LunaMoth
Wings of Kynareth is my comfort song...
- Pronouns
- He/They
I walked into the Star Trek part of the convention, limping slightly on one good hoof, to the sight of the Gardevoir the Caitian had picked up earlier letting out a pulse of pink energy at the last Ex-Borg healing them and fixing the mistake I'd made when I'd panicked so much at the presence of Borg that I didn't bother to think up a spell which would leave the people underneath the cybernetics unharmed.
I breathed a sigh of relief, and found myself surrounded by men in simple suits wearing sunglasses. I couldn't parse where they'd come from but they were just there, where nothing had been.
"Hello Alexander", one of them spoke and stepped up to face me.
"Really Men In Black", I sighed, not in the mood. "What do you want".
"We need you to answer some questions". The man spoke un-phased by my dismissal.
I looked into their souls with my magical senses, mostly out of curiosity, only to find that they believed themselves to be 'American bogeymen'. The cultural perception of a shadowy government organization of 'any' potential. "What sort of questions", I snorted like a deer driving some sense of satisfaction from the act (the Minotaur had been onto something with acting like a bull it seemed).
"What are your plans", the Man in black asked tugging at his suit, "what do you plan to do with your magic"?
The question was a surprisingly hard to answer one, at least until I remembered the Minotaur's words regarding power fantasies. Outwardly I frowned, as memories rushed to my head now that there was no obvious danger, letting me think clearly.
This form was my Fursona, when I daydreamed I daydreamed of hooves and antlers, but I also daydreamed of magic. Sometimes when I was alone, I'd pretend that my arm movements could conjure fire, in the shower I would pretend the smoke from the hot water was being controlled by me; when I'd felt a strong wind caress my body I'd also similarly imagined control over it.
I didn't think it was wrong, but my dreams went deeper, I felt something click in my head, as I came to a crisp and clear realization.
I had always dreamed of godhood, half formed fantasies of leaving earth behind, my mortal shell; forging worlds with power beyond understanding. Worlds better than earth by my own reckonings.
Now I could do it, I could've done it from the start, but I hadn't at that point, shocked by the changes, truly left the earth behind.
Not responding to the MIB, I simply disappeared…
Then reappeared, floating in a white void, the color of paper or a text editor. I raised a hand, and an infinitesimally small patch of nothingness twisted into a meadow of bright grass and wildflowers.
I smiled, hooves touching on pleasant dirt, and then I inhaled. Speaking out formative words: my own "Creation"...
~~
I breathed a sigh of relief, and found myself surrounded by men in simple suits wearing sunglasses. I couldn't parse where they'd come from but they were just there, where nothing had been.
"Hello Alexander", one of them spoke and stepped up to face me.
"Really Men In Black", I sighed, not in the mood. "What do you want".
"We need you to answer some questions". The man spoke un-phased by my dismissal.
I looked into their souls with my magical senses, mostly out of curiosity, only to find that they believed themselves to be 'American bogeymen'. The cultural perception of a shadowy government organization of 'any' potential. "What sort of questions", I snorted like a deer driving some sense of satisfaction from the act (the Minotaur had been onto something with acting like a bull it seemed).
"What are your plans", the Man in black asked tugging at his suit, "what do you plan to do with your magic"?
The question was a surprisingly hard to answer one, at least until I remembered the Minotaur's words regarding power fantasies. Outwardly I frowned, as memories rushed to my head now that there was no obvious danger, letting me think clearly.
This form was my Fursona, when I daydreamed I daydreamed of hooves and antlers, but I also daydreamed of magic. Sometimes when I was alone, I'd pretend that my arm movements could conjure fire, in the shower I would pretend the smoke from the hot water was being controlled by me; when I'd felt a strong wind caress my body I'd also similarly imagined control over it.
I didn't think it was wrong, but my dreams went deeper, I felt something click in my head, as I came to a crisp and clear realization.
I had always dreamed of godhood, half formed fantasies of leaving earth behind, my mortal shell; forging worlds with power beyond understanding. Worlds better than earth by my own reckonings.
Now I could do it, I could've done it from the start, but I hadn't at that point, shocked by the changes, truly left the earth behind.
Not responding to the MIB, I simply disappeared…
Then reappeared, floating in a white void, the color of paper or a text editor. I raised a hand, and an infinitesimally small patch of nothingness twisted into a meadow of bright grass and wildflowers.
I smiled, hooves touching on pleasant dirt, and then I inhaled. Speaking out formative words: my own "Creation"...
~~
This ending isn't something I'm satisfied with, but I had to end this story before my brain decided it didn't want to write a short story and instead wanted to write a full length novel.
Which would have resulted in an incomplete story knowing myself...
Writing this as a way to practice action scenes, I also found that fight scenes are not something I'm that great at doing...
I do really like the Xanadu setting though, and will probably, eventually; write another story in the setting (just with les fighting next time). Its just such an interesting basic premise honestly.
Which would have resulted in an incomplete story knowing myself...
Writing this as a way to practice action scenes, I also found that fight scenes are not something I'm that great at doing...
I do really like the Xanadu setting though, and will probably, eventually; write another story in the setting (just with les fighting next time). Its just such an interesting basic premise honestly.