onionboy98
That weirdo from TO
Prologue
Power is not a gift, for it is cursed with alienation and hatred from those who discover it - thus creating the need for secrecy - as well as the realization that you must choose between protection, destruction, or inaction towards those that would alienate and hate you. In any case, when you have the power to determine someone's fate, what happens to them is your responsibility. Everyday that you have power, you slowly begin to see why destruction or inaction appeals to many who do. I do not speak for the soldier who chooses to fight for what they believe is right, but rather for the supernatural who were never given the choice to take on this responsibility.
I did not always have a purpose, but I walked your streets everyday knowing the rules of such power and the curse it always brings. I looked like you in every way you could reasonably think of, yet you would grow to hate me if you knew what I really was - if you knew that I was not one of your kind. Did you ever stop to think I would help you and not hurt you? No, you were too busy fleeing for your life when I showed my true nature, and I propose that there are more like me. That is to say, I propose there are more supernatural beings in this world - that they may be in hiding, simply too scared of you to show what they truly are.
What you are about to read will be the way I came to the realization of 3 essential rules for those with power.
But first, you would want to know what type of power I have. My kind have been pushing your kind to "discoveries" that were previously unimaginable to you. These were not discoveries. My kind harnessed them within ourselves many millenia ago. Eventually, we learned to embed them in our children, then to our fetuses, and eventually it became naturally embedded amongst all of our kind. You referred to us as gods.
Eventually we slowly began to die out, as your kind quickly began to evolve from mere tadpoles into what you are today. And so we sought to gift you with our knowledge. But, as quickly as you evolved, you were still ignorant. You sought to worship those of us that remained, and instead of accepting our gift of knowledge, you long ago decided that all who were gifted with this knowledge were coerced by some other forces, and all who were to seek knowledge were to be condemned to death.
You warped your own fate, and thus my ancestors made it clear that our duty was to set you back on the path to knowledge, and to protect you from your own strife.
We are your guardians - myself included - and you have hated us for almost two millenia.
Rule 1: Understand Your Limits
Nuair a thuigeas tu na crìochan agad, tuigidh tu thu fhèin
Part 1: My Name is Steven
It was an early morning with my mother. We lived in a simple house - two bedrooms, one bathroom. Our house was situated in a sprawling city where we could blend in with the crowd. That made it easier in the event that we ever had to use our power - the power to create distort frequencies and wavelengths. I know, it doesn't sound spectacular, but we had no limits. If we wanted something destroyed, all we had to do was alter the frequency at which it vibrated (and, if you've taken any science courses, you'd know that everything vibrates at a molecular level). If we wanted to repel an attack, we'd create a wavelength so powerful that it does the repelling for us. But of course, we mainly used it to adjust the radio.
We had to be simple. Too much, we'd be noticed. Too little, we'd forget what we were. So we sat on our hands, idly waiting for the opportunities to subtly intervene in saving your pitiful lives.
I may seem cruel, and rightfully so. Not only were my kind persecuted at your hands, but myself as well. I'd known the cold sting that was considered to be "The average human childhood", and I was none too pleased about the experience.
"Steven, breakfast's ready!" cried my mother from the kitchen. I groaned, still half asleep. "Steven, get down here! You're a grown man now, so you're lucky I still make meals for you!"
"Five more minutes!" I protested, though she had a point. I was almost 25 years of age at the time.
"Eat now, or don't eat at all" she replied.
"Ugh, fine" I said, with obvious disgust in my voice. What can I say? I'm more of a night owl, and it was six o'clock in the morning.
I got out of bed, threw some clothes on and went to the kitchen to see what my mother had prepared. Some days she's the best chef on the planet, but today...
"Steven, eat your lucky charms" She said in a very serious voice. It wasn't the cereal that was an issue, it was the spoiled milk she put in the bowl with it. It was a gentle reminder that she was struggling to make ends meet recently, and I wasn't exactly helping.
I ate my cereal quickly so as to not taste the milk with it. We weren't very well off, but my mother always made sure we had food on the table before all else. Though it was getting harder recently, we survived. If only she would let me work. But it would be too dangerous to do so. If someone found out about my abilities before I'd mastered them, I would be putting too many people at risk. So, instead, I trained harder than normal, so that we might one day work together in both guiding humanity and keeping food on our own table.
...
The day that ensued was filled with training. I was trying to break a brick with my mind while my mom lectured me on our ancestors. Some of them you've heard of. Even my father is a descendant of the one the greeks referred to as Zeus, although that was not his true name.
My father... He had died before I was born. I knew him only through the stories my mother would tell, all tales of grandeur, but I only knew him as the man who left my mother to save the world, all while he was my mother's world. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the man. Hate implies I ever knew him in person.
Part 2: The Man, The Woman, and The Corpse
That night, I decided to walk around the city. It was a warm summer night, the stars just barely peeking through the clouds, though many of them were not visible. My mother used to tell stories about how many stars were visible in the days of our ancestors. But our kind is linked to the stars. Each star represents one of our kind, and as we began to fade, so too did the stars. Now, though it may appear as though there is an ocean of stars out there, know that they are only a single drop compared to how many there used to be. We are dying out, and so too are the stars.
BANG!!
What was that sound? I thought to myself just before noticing the people running away from a nearby alley. Was that gunfire? I asked myself while walking towards the alley. As I approached it, I began to hear a lot of crying.
“Oh Ronald, why’d you have to play the hero?” cried a woman’s voice.
“Give me that purse, or you’re next!” said a gruff man’s voice.
As I rounded the corner, I saw a man standing over a woman. He was pointing a gun at her while she sobbed over another man’s bleeding corpse.
“The purse! NOW!” screamed the man, shaking his pistol as he did so. I got the feeling this man was new to the whole armed robbery thing. “DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS! JUST GIVE IT TO ME!”
At this point, the man was about to join the woman in crying. This is too easy I thought to myself. “HEY!!” I yelled, “Put the gun down!”
The man turned to look at me. “Please, just leave. I don’t wanna hurt you too, man. Just go” he said to me. I could hear the fear in his voice.
“Nobody has to get hurt. We can all walk away from this if you just put the gun down” I said to him.
Without missing a beat, he started to scream “SHE SAW MY FACE!! I can’t walk away from this!! It’s me -pause- or you two!”
He pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger, but by the time he even said it, I could hear it in the frequencies of his voice. I knew he was going to fire, so I created a wavelength so strong around myself that it sent the bullet off course. I then lunged at the man, grabbed his gun, and took it from him.
The man ran away as fast as he could.
I looked over to the woman and asked “Are you alright?”
She immediately screamed “STAY AWAY FROM ME, FREAK!! Can’t you see he’s done enough?!”
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help” I said. I tried to sound as calming as possible, but it clearly wasn’t working, so I followed up with “Look, clearly I have the power to do what I want. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think you’d be dead by now?”
She hesitated at first, but slowly came to the realization that I was speaking the truth. I could tell. That’s the thing about my abilities. Science hasn’t quite caught up with this, but you give off frequencies that tell me what you’re thinking and/or feeling.
“I can tell you trust me” I started. “Or at least you’re starting to… Anyway, my name is Steven. What’s yours?”
“Mia… Mia Kelston” she told me. “You haven’t seen my face before?”
“Should I have?” I asked.
“Only if you watch the news” She said.
“Can’t say I do” I replied.
“I’m a reporter” She told me.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” I started. “I’m not going to be on the evening news, am I?”
“As if anyone would believe me” She said. Then she looked at the man.
“Who was he to you?” I asked.
“My husband” She said solemnly.
Power is not a gift, for it is cursed with alienation and hatred from those who discover it - thus creating the need for secrecy - as well as the realization that you must choose between protection, destruction, or inaction towards those that would alienate and hate you. In any case, when you have the power to determine someone's fate, what happens to them is your responsibility. Everyday that you have power, you slowly begin to see why destruction or inaction appeals to many who do. I do not speak for the soldier who chooses to fight for what they believe is right, but rather for the supernatural who were never given the choice to take on this responsibility.
I did not always have a purpose, but I walked your streets everyday knowing the rules of such power and the curse it always brings. I looked like you in every way you could reasonably think of, yet you would grow to hate me if you knew what I really was - if you knew that I was not one of your kind. Did you ever stop to think I would help you and not hurt you? No, you were too busy fleeing for your life when I showed my true nature, and I propose that there are more like me. That is to say, I propose there are more supernatural beings in this world - that they may be in hiding, simply too scared of you to show what they truly are.
What you are about to read will be the way I came to the realization of 3 essential rules for those with power.
But first, you would want to know what type of power I have. My kind have been pushing your kind to "discoveries" that were previously unimaginable to you. These were not discoveries. My kind harnessed them within ourselves many millenia ago. Eventually, we learned to embed them in our children, then to our fetuses, and eventually it became naturally embedded amongst all of our kind. You referred to us as gods.
Eventually we slowly began to die out, as your kind quickly began to evolve from mere tadpoles into what you are today. And so we sought to gift you with our knowledge. But, as quickly as you evolved, you were still ignorant. You sought to worship those of us that remained, and instead of accepting our gift of knowledge, you long ago decided that all who were gifted with this knowledge were coerced by some other forces, and all who were to seek knowledge were to be condemned to death.
You warped your own fate, and thus my ancestors made it clear that our duty was to set you back on the path to knowledge, and to protect you from your own strife.
We are your guardians - myself included - and you have hated us for almost two millenia.
Post automatically merged:
Rule 1: Understand Your Limits
Nuair a thuigeas tu na crìochan agad, tuigidh tu thu fhèin
Part 1: My Name is Steven
It was an early morning with my mother. We lived in a simple house - two bedrooms, one bathroom. Our house was situated in a sprawling city where we could blend in with the crowd. That made it easier in the event that we ever had to use our power - the power to create distort frequencies and wavelengths. I know, it doesn't sound spectacular, but we had no limits. If we wanted something destroyed, all we had to do was alter the frequency at which it vibrated (and, if you've taken any science courses, you'd know that everything vibrates at a molecular level). If we wanted to repel an attack, we'd create a wavelength so powerful that it does the repelling for us. But of course, we mainly used it to adjust the radio.
We had to be simple. Too much, we'd be noticed. Too little, we'd forget what we were. So we sat on our hands, idly waiting for the opportunities to subtly intervene in saving your pitiful lives.
I may seem cruel, and rightfully so. Not only were my kind persecuted at your hands, but myself as well. I'd known the cold sting that was considered to be "The average human childhood", and I was none too pleased about the experience.
"Steven, breakfast's ready!" cried my mother from the kitchen. I groaned, still half asleep. "Steven, get down here! You're a grown man now, so you're lucky I still make meals for you!"
"Five more minutes!" I protested, though she had a point. I was almost 25 years of age at the time.
"Eat now, or don't eat at all" she replied.
"Ugh, fine" I said, with obvious disgust in my voice. What can I say? I'm more of a night owl, and it was six o'clock in the morning.
I got out of bed, threw some clothes on and went to the kitchen to see what my mother had prepared. Some days she's the best chef on the planet, but today...
"Steven, eat your lucky charms" She said in a very serious voice. It wasn't the cereal that was an issue, it was the spoiled milk she put in the bowl with it. It was a gentle reminder that she was struggling to make ends meet recently, and I wasn't exactly helping.
I ate my cereal quickly so as to not taste the milk with it. We weren't very well off, but my mother always made sure we had food on the table before all else. Though it was getting harder recently, we survived. If only she would let me work. But it would be too dangerous to do so. If someone found out about my abilities before I'd mastered them, I would be putting too many people at risk. So, instead, I trained harder than normal, so that we might one day work together in both guiding humanity and keeping food on our own table.
...
The day that ensued was filled with training. I was trying to break a brick with my mind while my mom lectured me on our ancestors. Some of them you've heard of. Even my father is a descendant of the one the greeks referred to as Zeus, although that was not his true name.
My father... He had died before I was born. I knew him only through the stories my mother would tell, all tales of grandeur, but I only knew him as the man who left my mother to save the world, all while he was my mother's world. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the man. Hate implies I ever knew him in person.
Post automatically merged:
Part 2: The Man, The Woman, and The Corpse
That night, I decided to walk around the city. It was a warm summer night, the stars just barely peeking through the clouds, though many of them were not visible. My mother used to tell stories about how many stars were visible in the days of our ancestors. But our kind is linked to the stars. Each star represents one of our kind, and as we began to fade, so too did the stars. Now, though it may appear as though there is an ocean of stars out there, know that they are only a single drop compared to how many there used to be. We are dying out, and so too are the stars.
BANG!!
What was that sound? I thought to myself just before noticing the people running away from a nearby alley. Was that gunfire? I asked myself while walking towards the alley. As I approached it, I began to hear a lot of crying.
“Oh Ronald, why’d you have to play the hero?” cried a woman’s voice.
“Give me that purse, or you’re next!” said a gruff man’s voice.
As I rounded the corner, I saw a man standing over a woman. He was pointing a gun at her while she sobbed over another man’s bleeding corpse.
“The purse! NOW!” screamed the man, shaking his pistol as he did so. I got the feeling this man was new to the whole armed robbery thing. “DON’T MAKE ME DO THIS! JUST GIVE IT TO ME!”
At this point, the man was about to join the woman in crying. This is too easy I thought to myself. “HEY!!” I yelled, “Put the gun down!”
The man turned to look at me. “Please, just leave. I don’t wanna hurt you too, man. Just go” he said to me. I could hear the fear in his voice.
“Nobody has to get hurt. We can all walk away from this if you just put the gun down” I said to him.
Without missing a beat, he started to scream “SHE SAW MY FACE!! I can’t walk away from this!! It’s me -pause- or you two!”
He pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger, but by the time he even said it, I could hear it in the frequencies of his voice. I knew he was going to fire, so I created a wavelength so strong around myself that it sent the bullet off course. I then lunged at the man, grabbed his gun, and took it from him.
The man ran away as fast as he could.
I looked over to the woman and asked “Are you alright?”
She immediately screamed “STAY AWAY FROM ME, FREAK!! Can’t you see he’s done enough?!”
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help” I said. I tried to sound as calming as possible, but it clearly wasn’t working, so I followed up with “Look, clearly I have the power to do what I want. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think you’d be dead by now?”
She hesitated at first, but slowly came to the realization that I was speaking the truth. I could tell. That’s the thing about my abilities. Science hasn’t quite caught up with this, but you give off frequencies that tell me what you’re thinking and/or feeling.
“I can tell you trust me” I started. “Or at least you’re starting to… Anyway, my name is Steven. What’s yours?”
“Mia… Mia Kelston” she told me. “You haven’t seen my face before?”
“Should I have?” I asked.
“Only if you watch the news” She said.
“Can’t say I do” I replied.
“I’m a reporter” She told me.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” I started. “I’m not going to be on the evening news, am I?”
“As if anyone would believe me” She said. Then she looked at the man.
“Who was he to you?” I asked.
“My husband” She said solemnly.
