#myra writes stuff

[myrastuff]

Unfinished Fanfiction Master Post

I've decided to follow the lead of some fic writers I follow and make a post about my unfinished works. Maybe this will encourage me to actually finish one of them. [Brackets] for working titles/synopses. In no particular order:

[The Doctor and the Death Omen] - Overwatch, Moicy, Doctor!Mercy x Banshee!Moira AU. Basically finished, but I don't like the ending enough to call it done. Dr. Angela Ziegler’ patients have warned her about ghosts and faeries. Really, the local banshee isn't so bad, once you get to know her, but death follows inexorably in the wake of her achingly beautiful song, even as Angela struggles to save her patients.

Unpleasant People - Harry Potter, Severus Snape/Petunia Dursley (don't @ me). Post-canon slight AU (Snape lives). About 80% written, on pause because JKR keeps making it harder and harder to want anything to do with her work. Severus Snape has spent his adult life as Dumbledore’s shadow. Petunia Dursley has spent hers married to a man she doesn’t even like. After a Dark Lord falls and a marriage crumbles, two unhappy children meet again as unpleasant adults, and discover an unexpected camaraderie that might do them both a world of good.

Joyride - Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley. Non-AU role swap fic. Only like 20% written, paused because it was tough to write. After a night of delightful firsts, Crowley wakes up to find he has sauntered vaguely upwards, with the white wings and nervous disposition to match. Aziraphale wakes up to find much the same thing, but in the opposite direction. Switching back should be easy enough, if Crowley can keep himself from Falling a second time, but there’s one little hiccup: being a demon is a hell of a lot of fun.

Genetic Consequences - Overwatch, Moicy, continuation of my Genetic History setting. Maybe 60% written, but on hold because new lore keeps clashing with my vision and I find that stressful. [Plotty action fic, Overwatch is lowkey reforming with Winston at the helm, Mei as a new recruit, and Tracer and Mercy back in the saddle. A plot to assassinate an omnic rock star puts them in direct conflict with Talon, forcing Moira and Mercy to juggle loyalties, work, and their newly rekindled relationship. Featuring background Mei/Winston, moon gorillas (from the moon), and Einen's arch nemesis.]

[Five Hundred First Kisses] - Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley. 3K written but the premise involves torturing the reader with chapter after chapter of unconventional slow-burn so I can't say what percentage is done. Aziraphale and Crowley have realized they’re in love a hundred times over the centuries, and it always comes with a kiss. Unfortunately, neither of them are capable of remembering a single one. (A thin veil of plot ties together what we’re all here for anyway: a whole series of First Kiss scenes.)

[Not Writing Fire Emblem Fic] (that's what the google doc is called, so I guess it's the working title) - Fire Emblem Three Houses, Seteth/Manuela. Maybe 70% written? On hold because the tone and characters kept meandering around and I couldn't wrangle them back into a coherent narrative. [Manuela deserves a DILF so I'm giving her one. Gallant, surprisingly buff priest defends the honour of aging cougar, unconvincingly denies finding her hot for several chapters. Featuring a lot of Wyvern fanon because I like dragons.]

[myrastuff]

can i hear some more about your supers' powers?

I had this half-written already, so thank you for the excuse to post it 💕

Dr. Hex’s Power Set:

Genius Intellect: Not quite superhuman, Hex is nonetheless incredibly intelligent and educated. She has a PhD in biomechanical engineering, vast experience in robotics and programming, and 90% of a medical doctorate.

Hextech Suit: Her supervillain outfit consists of thousands of small, flexible, modular robots, each one interchangeable and capable of taking several forms. They’re controlled as a swarm through a highly encrypted neural implant, allowing Hex to deploy or rearrange them at will. Her tendril pack uses the same modular pieces in a different configuration. Interchangeable pieces make it easy for Hex to reinforce an area of the suit, or repair damage, by taking modules from elsewhere. The whole suit collapses to fit inside a briefcase, and a pared down version can be hidden under ordinary clothing. When fully deployed, the suit provides power-assisted superhuman strength, air filtration, durability, and other minor enhancements.

AI Movement Enhancement: A complex program within the hexsuit implant helps Hex translate thought into action at a superhuman rate, turning the suit into a powered exoskeleton that improves her combat skills and effective reflexes. In other words, while wearing the suit she knows kung fu, and other cool downloadable combat tricks.

An ARMY of HEXBOTS!: Seven-foot-tall robotic humanoids, designed with a retro flair, are largely autonomous and directed through Hex’s neural implant or verbal commands. With relatively simple programming, they’re more useful for intimidation and crowd control than actual fighting. Hexbots are designed to self-destruct if captured, or just when an explosion would help.

Additional Gadgets: bombs, laser-drones, tracking beacons, sickass cars, a helicopter, etc., Dr. Hex has invented a wide variety of useful gadgets for specialized tasks. One of her favourites can cut a hexagon-shaped hole through a 2-foot-thick bank vault in under 10 minutes, then direct a swarm of mini hex drones to catalogue the contents of a room and carry away the most valuable loot.

As-of-yet Unnamed Hero Power Set:

Enhanced Physique: Stronger bones, skin, and muscles make her harder to damage. Faster clotting and cell repair grant rapid healing, especially for cuts and bruises. Alien antibodies make her immune to most, if not all, terrestrial illnesses, and highly resistant to toxins and radiation. She can hold her breath for up to an hour, and survive without food or water for months.

Auto-Psychokinesis: Non-Physical control of her body in space provides flight, super-strength, and super-speed. Her abilities in this area are limited by force of will and belief; in theory there's no upper limit to her strength or speed, but in practice her mostly-human mind can only handle so much.

Heat Vision: She can excite the particles of any substance, with a visual connection used to activate and control the ability. Again, the degree and speed of this ability are limited by her mental control.

Aura of Calm: Tapping into the enlightenment of her alien ancestors, she can take a few deep breaths and calm those around her. Adrenaline dissipates, muscles relax, pain is dulled, and feelings of serenity are created, making it hard for anyone to stay anxious or angry, and easy for them to relax. This effect lasts only briefly once she stops concentrating on maintaining it, but can interrupt armies of hired goons or make working in a coffee shop berable.

Alien Communion: While sleeping or meditating, she can communicate with the immaterial essences of the ancient alien race that created her, usually through a representative she has nicknamed SpaceMom. The entire alien species reached a form of enlightenment that allowed them to transcend the universe as we know it, and wish only to help less evolved species. Though great at explaining complex scientific principles, making tactical plans, and other big-picture stuff, SpaceMom has a hard time grasping the details of human culture.

[myrastuff]

Return

A quick snippet of Harrow recovering from her Limit Break, written to get back into character and because this probably won’t show up “on screen” because it’s not exactly an interactive scene. For context, Harrow spent all last game moping in her room aboard her old ship, with Windsong occasionally popping in to try and get her to do something other than monologue about being a useless, selfish failure.

Misery rolled through her mind like fog rolling off the ocean on a misty morning, bleak and comforting. There was no happiness to be found in giving up, but there was contentment. It felt as though the world was frozen in place while she wept, and while it couldn't get any better, at least she couldn't make it any worse. She'd memorized the pattern of the ceiling above her bed years ago, studied every whorl and knot in the wood over bleary mornings and restless nights. She wasn't even really looking at them anymore, just staring aimlessly upwards, eyes unfocused and red. All last night, and all through the morning, that had been enough.

Then something shifted, and it wasn't.

She'd drawn her bed's curtains closed that morning, but Windsong had left a thin crack in them when she'd left. Sunlight danced along her bedspread in a meandering line, specs of dust floating gently in the wake it left. Windsong would be back. Or Kala would be. Or one of the others. There were too many people here who knew her, who depended on her. If she really wanted to quit, to be this nameless drifting thing forever, then she had to leave.

For the first time since she'd broken, Juliet Harrow got to her feet. The light was brighter still when she pushed her curtains open, sprawling in across the mess she'd left last night. Her pristine white coat, crumpled in a corner. Voice of Heaven, golden and gleaming, thrown against the far wall. She'd been aiming for the shelf in the corner where a four-armed stone statue still stood, proud and certain. Harrow ignored it.

The cabinet would have some of her old things. The best had been moved to the Mist Sapphire, but a nameless drifter didn't need the best. A change of clothes or two, maybe something to sell for a few coins. Food, she'd need to eat. With every step she planned, every piece she pulled from the dresser, the fog felt fainter, the calm nothingness she sought less certain. She'd need a ship to get out of the city, which would she take? Not the Daystar, not with all its crew. Maybe one of the lifeboats? And what would she do? A bag, she'd need a bag. Without a thought, there was power flowing through her veins, through her skin, shaping and molding the cloth in her hands into what she needed it to be. She pulled the power back with a jolt the moment she noticed, but it had been so easy. If Lawgiver Juliet Harrow was really going to die, she needed to learn how to stop.

At the edge of her vision, Voice of Heaven gleamed. Unclasped, it sat on the ground in two pieces, held together by a fine thread of gold that disappeared when the collar was worn and attuned. Resplendent and confining, the golden cage she'd forged for herself, now lying miserably on her dusty old room's floor. Good. She never wanted to see it again.

And yet, it called to her. Beckoned like a siren, until the half-finished bag was on the ground and Harrow was picking up her artifact again. It was unharmed by its rough treatment, of course. She swiped the dust from its ember-red gemstone with the cuff of one sleeve, let her eyes focus on the reflection of herself, swollen and distorted, in its golden surface. No, not as distorted as all that. The mirror by her bed gave a clearer picture, and gods she was a mess. Her hair lay in tangled curls, caught around the white ribbons she'd woven into it last night. Her dove grey vest and cream shirt, crumpled from a sleepless night. She'd only ever had the energy to remove one of her two boots.

Gods, she couldn't leave now. For all that she felt selfish and petty for dragging her people together in the first place, throwing them into danger and leaving them to their own devices was a thousand times worse. The collar slipped back on again so easily, and within moments her essence was flowing through it again, making it a part of her. Slipping back into Lawgiver Juliet Harrow was just as natural, just as perfect a fit. She picked the ribbons out, ran a brush through her hair, had it twisted and turned up into a loose bun in moments. The vest would be fine with a little smoothing, and she had an old coat in the closet to hide the shirt. When she stood tall, her appearance could pass for intentionally roguish, rather than the result of a twelve hour emotional breakdown.

"Well, Harrow, I suppose you're back." The show must go on, and all that. No, the show was going on, without her and all the help she might bring her circlemates. Damn it all, she'd spent more than enough time feeling sorry for herself. There was a whole world out there to save, and even if she wasn't the best candidate for the job, she was going to give it her damned best shot.

[myrastuff]

So I went to check the Exalted tag to see if people were talking about 3e DB words, because some of those words are my words and I wanna know if people like them, but...

...there’s, there’s rather a lot of porn ads in the tag, has that been going on long?

[myrastuff]

Adversaries of the Righteous: Fivefold Masks and Lies - Onyx Path Publishing | Exalted 3rd Edition | DriveThruRPG.com

Adversaries of the Righteous: Fivefold Masks and Lies - From the bustling streets of Nexus to the savage western seas, Creation is ripe with threats to mortals and Chosen alike

Posting separately because I’m so pleased <3 If you want a socially-focused menace for your Exalted game, this dramatic nerd is now available to torment your protagonists.

[myrastuff]

A random bit of Exalted fluff I thought up over the holidays, and decided to write out this evening. If anyone uses this in their game canon, please let me know what shenanigans go down :P

Five Maiden Cake

A Calibration tradition originating in the Northwest of Creation, with regional variations found across various islands, five maiden cake (sometimes called star cake or five maiden pudding) is a rich dessert baked to feed a whole crowd during an end-of-year feast. The confection gets its various names from the set of six silver charms that are baked into it, to be found by those who dare to take a slice. Tradition dictates specific rules that must be followed by the finder of each charm and the other guests, and those who refuse to play along bring bad luck upon themselves in the new year. Anyone who slips up by accident may redeem themselves by performing some penalty, usually doing something silly or entertaining for the table.

In the spirit of Calibration, and to prolong the fun, five maiden cake is traditionally served as a first course.

Jupiter: Whoever finds the Jupiter charm becomes the Righteous Seer, with the ability to peer into the hearts of her fellow guests. She may ask each guest one question over the course of the evening, and they must answer it honestly for everyone to hear.

Saturn: The finder of the Saturn charm becomes the Adjudicator of Good Taste, and gains the right to demand that any other guest stop speaking, traditionally by pointing one finger at them and saying "silence!" in the most menacing voice she can muster. However, only one guest may be silenced at a time: as soon as the word is spoken to another, the first is free to speak again.

Mars: Whoever holds the Mars charm becomes the Ascendant General, the war-lord of the dinner table. She is served first at every course, and must be addressed as "Grand Imperial General" and shown due reverence by all other guests. However, the General's throne can be usurped. Anyone may challenge the General to any contest they can devise, provided the table agrees it's fair and the supplies can be found without interrupting dinner. To the winner goes the charm, and the title, until another challenger appears.

Mercury: The finder of the Mercury charm becomes the Weary Traveler, doomed to wait upon her fellow guests for the rest of the evening. The Traveler must follow any command to fetch or carry made of her by another guest throughout the night. However, the Traveler must be thanked, lest the wrath of Mercury be brought down. At the end of the evening, every guest must bestow a gift upon her, either a small present or a promise of help (traditionally with packing, traveling, or sending news) to be redeemed in the new year.

Venus: Two Venus charms are found within a five maiden cake, made from a single charm cut carefully in half down the middle. The two finders are the Lucky Lovers, and are expected to kiss as soon as both charms have been found. In doing so, they bring great luck upon one-another in love for the coming year. Any other guest can share the same luck if they can beg or bargain a kiss out of both Lovers before the night's end.

[myrastuff]

More NaNo Blep

I’ve been slouching along trying to write the middle of my three stories, which I already know needs some drastic repaving to cover the gaping plot holes in the whole first third (every other line is basically “we will do this thing! Because... reasons?”) Today, I decided to just skip ahead to story three, which is the one I wanted to be writing anyways.

Years ago, Jonathan had read a magazine article about the old abandoned subway stations in New York city, and had promptly filed them away as yet another exciting, dangerous place he’d never even think about visiting in real life. Now, standing under crumbling mosaic archways, with the glow of his helmet reflecting off shards of broken amethyst glass still left in the paved-over skylights, he had to admit this was almost worth the terrifying near-death experience. The place must have been a real wonder in its time, before being closed, condemned, and left to become a den for a breakaway sect of subterranean vampires. The magazine hadn’t mentioned those.

Beautiful or not, though, it was pretty creepy. Almost as creepy as those frozen statue-corpses, which had stayed perfectly in place as Minerva and he followed Farah’s directions upwards.

“So… who’s VF, and why are we going to meet him?” Jonathan finally worked up the courage to ask once they were nearly back to the station, with Minerva now walking a few steps ahead.

“He was… ah, well it’s a bit complicated. Let’s say he was an old friend.”

“Friend?” Jonathan heard the voice just a moment before he saw the glow, toxic green and seeping out from around one of the ornate mosaic columns. “Minerva, you wound me, we were more than that. We were a coven, once.”

The man who stepped out into view was thin and pale as the grave, dressed in a black three-piece suit that looked like it had come from the same era as the abandoned subway station. He looked much younger than both, maybe somewhere around thirty, but Jonathan was learning not to take looks at face value for determining age. The man’s easy smile reminded Jonathan very much of the vampires they’d just managed to escape from, though it was rather less pointed. What he noticed most, though, was the aura around this stranger. Green as acid, nearly as bright as Minerva’s. Brighter than any other Jonathan had seen with one possible, violet exception.

“Viktor.” Minerva was still impossible to read, Jonathan couldn’t say if she was about to laugh or about to shoot this man. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I am dead,” he replied, nonchalant.

“More dead. You know what I mean. You fell off a building.”

“Yes, that took some work to get around.” He rolled up one sleeve, revealing a line of stitches running around his pale arm just a few inches below the wrist. “Not that it’s why I’m here, but I wouldn’t say no to some help in, shall we say, smoothing over my patchwork job?”

“You fell off a building twenty years ago.”

Viktor blinked. “It wasn’t twenty years, it was nineteen ninety…” he did some math, then shrugged, “alright, twenty three years. I got caught up.”

“Caught up with what, exactly?”

“Ah, well, now we come to the reason for this little reunion. You see, I’ve been doing a little research, and now I’m here to help you save the world.”

[myrastuff]

Four Acts in Fourteen Cards: A Tarot Spread for Writers

I’ve been drafting and writing a lot of stuff using a four-act structure recently, basically what’s used for most serial TV shows (procedurals, monster-of-the-week shows, sitcoms, etc.,) and I’ve found I really enjoy it; the structure makes for a fast pace and plenty of action, with character growth feeding off of and influencing the events. In preparing for NaNoWriMo, I outlined a series of short stories, which I intend to link together like “episodes” into a overarching “season”. The tricky bit is keeping each episode exciting, meaningful, and distinctive despite the formula.

Enter, tarot. If you’ve looked into tarot cards before, you probably know that they’re a wellspring of ideas and inspiration. I don’t use tarot religiously or spiritually, but I own a few decks for self-reflection and, of course, writing. I drafted this spread idea for NaNo, tested it out, and was quite pleased with the results I got: a start-to-finish story outline that feels satisfying and distinct from my other outlined episodes, done in under half an hour.

I’m recording this spread here for my own later reference, and for any other writers who might find it useful. Please feel free to dissect and remix this idea: play around and use whatever parts are helpful to your process :)

Instructions: Lay out all fourteen cards with each section as a separate row, in a kind of diamond shape. Reveal cards in rows: first the teaser, then all of act 1, etc. Interpret the row, write some notes, then move on to the next. Adjust the interpretation as needed for your setting, tone, etc.

Teaser:

1 ) The Theme: The overall theme of the story. This might speak to the moral, the tone, or what parts of your universe it’s exploring.

Act 1:

2) The Inciting Incident: What event is causing your heroes to spring into action? Explain the problem and/or opportunity they’re facing.

3) The Stakes: What do your heroes stand to gain, or lose, from this situation?

Act 2:

4) The First Plan: How are your heroes going to deal with the incident, in order to attain their goal or avoid calamity?

5) The First Failure: How does this first plan fail?

6) The Secret Twist: What secret or new information do the heroes learn that changes everything we thought we knew about the problem or situation at hand?

Act 3:

7) The Recovery: How do your heroes get back on their feet after their initial failure?

8) The New Plan: What plan do they come up with next with their new knowledge?

9) The Greater Failure: How does this new plan manage to fail, what further complication is thrown into the problem?

10) The Height of Peril: All seems lost for our heroes: why, and how?

Act 4:

11) The Final Attempt: What final plan do your heroes manage to come up with, despite the danger?

12) The Victory: How do your heroes manage to succeed?

13) The Results: What have your heroes, and the world, gained or lost during the story? How do they feel about the ending, and how do they return to their between-story state?

Tag:

14) The Lesson: What will your characters take with them from this story into the next? What have they learned, or how have they grown or changed?

As with all randomly generated ideas, I recommend pruning and polishing your results relentlessly, ignoring anything that doesn’t work, and generally treating the cards as a starting point for further exploration. Good luck!