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[craftpunk]

I have some important questions.

Poll #19154 An important Quiz

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 30

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How many worlds are there?

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One.
1 (3.4%)

Innumerable, obviously.
27 (93.1%)

Nine.
1 (3.4%)

What.
0 (0.0%)

Do you still have your powers?

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Yes
15 (51.7%)

No
7 (24.1%)

None of your business
7 (24.1%)

How do you feel about superpowers?

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Yes
17 (56.7%)

No
2 (6.7%)

Sod off.
11 (36.7%)

The Patriarchy is...

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A damaging class system that unfairly marginalizes anyone not a part of the ruling class
13 (50.0%)

The way of the world
4 (15.4%)

The single most damaging system to people of all genders
9 (34.6%)

Imaginary
0 (0.0%)

Which pill?

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Red Pill
9 (33.3%)

Blue Pill
7 (25.9%)

I don't believe in pharmaceuticals
11 (40.7%)

If you had to live anywhere, would it be...

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A dark forest
4 (14.3%)

A fjord
2 (7.1%)

A tundra
2 (7.1%)

Mountains
3 (10.7%)

Somewhere modern
17 (60.7%)

What pulls your chariot?

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Horses
16 (57.1%)

Bulls
4 (14.3%)

Cats
4 (14.3%)

Goats
4 (14.3%)

You solve problems with your:

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Mind
15 (51.7%)

Fists
5 (17.2%)

Charm
4 (13.8%)

Tricks
5 (17.2%)

Anyone else feeling a little extra powerful, lately?

Comments

[craftpunk]

[ Kylo couldn't see it, of course, but Woden smiled. He held out the pick, between two fingers that glowed just as bright as the pick itself. ]

You will be part of my Pantheon.

[ He said, and one of the store attendants leaned over a counter, almost curiously. He looked half-ready to protest, but he didn't. ]

You fan the flames. You are the inspiration of the furor -- you found a Vanir to call your own. There's wealth in your name, and they will weep gold for you.

Óðr. [ He held out the pick to him. ]

[photophobic]

[It made absolutely no sense to him- but he took the pick anyway.

And then it made sense. Too much sense. He was tumbling, falling, he was red, and gold, and fire, he was a driving, pounding rhythm of a racing heartbeat and an urge- to do, to make, to break- that could not be quietened--

He gasped, standing tall, reborn in brilliant, flame red light.]

Óðr.

[He admired himself openly- not having any idea what TRON was, he wasn't likely to make the connection. But he didn't mind the fiery lines drawn over his form, the red-illuminated lining of his new full-length cape.]

Yes. I am.

[craftpunk]

Good.

[ That was just...magnificent.

Really, stunning work. He'd almost say that this was exactly the way it should have been from the beginning, but Ananke had been clear that he would have no powers.

No matter, clearly he could just make his own when the time came, and made them he did. He could even feel it, the power, just on the edge of his perception, just barely there, tugging at the edges and leaking at his perception. ]

It makes sense now, doesn't it? What we can all do.

[photophobic]

[He looked at Woden- looked down at him, breathing in his new power. His potential. He had... gifts to bestow, now. He could do so much. So much more.

He looked at Woden- and began to laugh.
Joy. Wild, deep, impossible, triumphant joy.]

[craftpunk]

[ Woden didn't feel a sense of inferiority, looking up at the boy. He didn't find the idea of being out-talled exactly emasculating.

If anything, having someone so tall around was good. He grinned beneath his mask, and tipped his head toward the attendant, who was starting to look increasingly agitated at the fact that there were some crazy neon tron knock-offs hanging out in his store and stealing guitar picks.

Then again, he wasn't stopping them either. ]

Go on. Try it out.

[photophobic]

[Quite right too. Having Kylo Ren on side was far from the worst idea Woden had ever had. Especially now that Kylo Ren was also Óðr. Especially now that he was, in a way, his.

The newly ascended god tilted his head, eyes focusing on the awkward attendant.
Yes. Yes, with his shitty band that was going nowhere, and this dead-end job selling other people's records, hating every minute for being so close and yet so far removed from what he really wanted.

The smile on Ren's face was broad, unsettling. Far from kind. And yet... somehow, compelling.]

You. Come here.

[It wasn't a request.]

I have something for you.
Freedom.

[craftpunk]

[ Woden stepped back. One step, two steps. He wanted to see it in all its glory. He peeled back like the instructor allowing the student to take the lead for the first time. He put his hands behind his back and stalked along the aisle behind Kylo -- no, Óðr.

He could feel his lips curl up in a smile -- the power from finding people like this -- giving them more. It made his heart pound faster, his fingers tremble, and a part of him lit with an energy he hadn't felt since the last time he'd been home -- when Cassandra had called him Jon.

God, this was good. Too good.

Silently, he watched, and stopped, placed his hands on either side, and leaned forward, to watch what happened. ]

[photophobic]

[His target hesitated for a moment - because of course he did, faced with these two lunatics. But could he disobey? He approached cautiously, looking ludicrously small as he looked up into Óðr's face.

He smiled down at him, and the assistant's eyes widened, unnaturally wide, a strange light flickering to life in them-

And lyrics began to spill from his lips. Wild, uncontrollable. A torrent. He staggered back as if terrified, unable to control the endless flow, his hands flying out to clutch at shelving, anything--

Ren-Óðr watched, fascinated.]

[craftpunk]

[ Woden had seen many things since the recurrence began. He'd seen the frenzied masses at one of Sakhmet's concerts, the way people passed out at the end of Lucifer's. The high from Amaterasu's, and the orgies that followed Inanna's. He'd seen so many reactions to their powers.

This was unlike any of that. Even the frenzy of Sakhmet's powers didn't come close to the way this man slammed his head back and started to chant. It was almost like he was pulling into some deep, ancestral history.

Woden watched, fascinated. Enraptured. Óðr was magnificent. ]

[photophobic]

[Perhaps it was the Force flowing through him. Perhaps it was this wild, untamed power the Porter had unleased. Perhaps it was Kylo's history of tapping into a power he had never been able to fully contain. Who knew. Óðr certainly didn't.
But he wasn't interested in the assistant any longer. He turned, facing Woden, looking very satisfied.]

What would you like to see next?

[craftpunk]

Hm.

[ Woden stepped back from the rows of records, hands behind his back again, he started to walk toward the doors.

As great as this single instance was... he wanted more. Óðr wanted more too, he could tell that. ]

Let's see what this looks like in less...solitary circumstances?

[photophobic]

[Well now. That did sound like a Plan.]

So many people in this city, all of them... trapped. Unfulfilled.
I could free them all.

[A thought.]

Does that door of yours fit two?

[craftpunk]

It can carry me and my girlfreinds.

[ He said. It was certainly effected casualness. There was nothing casual about it. ]

I think the two of us shall do just fine.

[ A twist on his belt, and the bifrost opened up in front of them, glittering and just as trippy as before. In front of it, Woden's helmet reflected a fresh patch on the ceiling and floor of the colors, rotating and spiraling. ]

Shall we?

[photophobic]

[Óðr suspected the privilege was not commonly offered, and that-- yes. It pleased him. Greatly.

And it was hard not to be impressed by the kaleidoscope of colour. He'd wanted to step into it since he first saw it.]

Yes. Let's do something spectacular.