Jorlem Wrote:I'd be asying something similar, but I was thinking that this is probably a counterbalance to his planned overpowering of Zeke, which I had objected to way back in the chapter threads. I'll be honest here, when you say that one of your OCs is so powerful that one of the three overgods that created the universe would have trouble defeating him, that sets off some warning bells.Please don't take this the wrong way, but it's taken me this long to get around to writing a reply because of a combination of work and me trying not to get all pissy about this.
Overall, I think the story might be better if both your OC hero and villains were not as awesomely powerful as you've implied they will be. Maybe make Zeke instead get by based on ingenuity, which is the impression that I get of your plan from the fixing Zeke thread. If you really want to keep the the whole corruption thing, I would suggest holding off on that until Galaxia shows up, and having the cousin act as a Knight Templar until then. Knight Templars can make awesome twisted reflections of a hero, and it would probably make for a more interesting story then this guy trying to conquer the world.
Let's put this into a bit of perspective. The way I've always seen it you can always do a multi-crossover story. But the thing is: what's the catch? What is the one thing that draws all the elements together? My solution has always been to have an OC that's a strange attractor for weird shit. He is there for the amusement of the powers that be and they have suitably equipped him to get the most nag for their buck - also nice that he's so useful to them as an instrument of chaos. If it helps, think of it as an urban renewal project on a metaphysical scale.
Okay, so he's over the top.
Fine. I get that. *Crumbles up the character sheet and whiffs the toss to the waste basket, not seeming to care anyhow.*
Let's go REAL bare bones here.
The delivery truck pulled away, belching a hazy cloud of blue-gray diesel smoke as it did. There in front of the two Hino's stood the crate. It was stenciled with various legends.
"THIS SIDE UP"
"HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE"
"MAINTAIN AT ROOM TEMPERATURE"
"EXPEDITED AIR FREIGHT - RUSH"
The younger Hino was a beautiful Japanese girl at the age of sixteen, dressed in a miko's robes. Unlike most girls her age that liked to have short hair that was dyed, she prefered a more traditional style. After all, not everyone should run with the herd - not that it hurts her popularity any: she was considered the Queen of St. Herberk School for Girls. She eyed the crate warily and said, "Grandpa, I don't usually like to pry into your personal life, but did you order this?"
The elder Hino, an elderly man in a Shinto Priest's garb gave his granddaughter an offended look, but nothing more. "I ordered nothing. The address is familiar, though."
That piqued Hino Rei's interest. "You do?"
"Hmm," replied her grandfather with a nod. "It's an old friend back in the USA. We knew each other back in the Occupation days, but when his time in the Army was up he had to return to his home. Family business to attend to. He's never been able to come out and visit, but we've been keeping in touch. He did mention that there was something he needed to send to me, but he never said what."
Rei blinked, then looked to the crate with renewed fascination. "So this must be it. Should we open it now?"
Hino sighed. "We might as well. We can't have this thing sitting out here all day and it's too heavy for us to move inside. I'll go get some tools."
At that moment, a low, long, dreadful moan issued forth from the crate, rooting both Hinos where they stood.
"I... I think you'd better hurry, Grandpa."
Another moan, this one shorter, but louder. The crate jostled slightly as something bumped around inside.
"Yes... I'll be right back." And with that the old man ran as fast as his legs would carry him.
Right after he left, the crate jostled a little more sharply and the voice inside became somewhat more coherrent. "Huh... Whuh... Oh HELL to the muther fuckin' no..."
Rei stood there helplessly, her wide eyes indicating shock.
There was a rapid pounding sound from the crate. "GRANDPA! When I get outta here I'm gonna show you just what this little punk-ass kid can do to yer wrinkled old ass!"
Rei was no slouch in her studies, and St. Herberk had an excellent English language program. Thus, she understood what the voice in the box was saying. Her expression now was a fun shade of scandalized. After all, what kind of a man would pack his grandson into a shipping crate and send him to a foreign country without his consent?
There were three heavy impacts from the inside. "Lemme outta here you old fart!" snarled the voice. "I don't care how much bad karma it earns me, I'm gonna pay you back with interest!"
Just then, her grandfather came back with two hammers and pry-bars... but Rei wasn't sure she wanted to let this person out yet. "He's not very happy right now," said Rei nervously.
"C'mon and fight me!" This time the crate jumped as whoever was inside took a swing. "I'll bite yer legs off!"
"He's American!" said the old man in surprise. "Rei, quick, calm him down."
Rei turned and gave him a confused look. "HOW?"
"I know you've been studying English! Talk to him!"
"HEY! WHO'S OUT THERE! SOMEONE GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA THIS THING!" *WHAM!*
Rei gulp and took a cautious step forward. "Ano... Siruh? Whoo aruh yhu?"
The crate was silent for a second, then the voice said, "Someone that is really not happy right now. Can you PLEASE get me out of here!?"
"Hai - oh, Yesuh! Pleezu, wun minit!"
Rei nodded to her grandfather and the two began to get to work, prying the boards around the top of the crate off. Whoever was inside waited patiently until he could see a sizable gap under the lid.
"Hold on," said the voice inside, a bit less muffled now. "Let me try this now. Stand back. Far back."
Rei looked to her grandfather, who nodded. They both put their tools down and took several steps back.
"Okaiy," called out Rei, "we moved."
"Good. Now, watch out for flying pieces."
Rei only had enough time to wonder what that meant when the crate made a sound of in-rushing air. And then, with the sound of smashing wood, the top flew straight up to the sky, spinning picturesquely as
it was trailed by swirling streamers of packing straw. It landed with a dull crunch a few feet away, breaking into a baker's dozen worth of fragments and about a thousand splinters.
Someone rose from the crate. Long, dark, and messy hair swayed with the breeze despite being mashed up into a fright-mask. He was squinting against the light as he rubbed his head as though he were trying to sculpt clay. He was a boy - Rei could not determine his age, but he could either be a fourteen or a late-blooming sixteen. No way he could be an early-blooming twelve - he just didn't carry himself like that. He wore black - sweatshirt and sweatpants that would only barely be comfortable in the chilly spring air. But the most catching detail about him were the sweeping, jagged, black marks under his eyes. He opened his eyes and looked around, squinting. as his eyes adjust he finally found Rei and her Grandfather.
"Am I in Japan?" he asked bluntly.
"Yesu," said Rei, hoping that if she's helpful he won't get angry. "Yhou aruh in Juban - too ouwa froom Tokyo."
The boy closed his eyes and a fiercely gnashed his teeth as he clenched his fists. The air stirred up around him, swirling as it picked up a few more loose pieces of packing straw. He then started taking slow and deep breaths and began to relax. Grandpa Hino breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't like what he felt, but at least the boy knew he had to calm down before all hell broke loose.
The boy then looked to them, and said, "My name is Zeke. Who are you?"
Ezekiel Darkwood was not pleased. He had been knocked out by the tea his Grandpa had given him and then shipped off to Japan. No warnings, no idle chit-chat about their next destination... just BAM! Welcome to Japan, sucker. Not that he hadn't wanted to go there, but this was simply ridiculous.
He had never really been on very good terms with his Grandpa Bear - the man was grouchy, crotchety and stubborn, and Zeke had been a poison little pill of a kid from eight o'clock, day one. He'd improved a lot over the years. He tried to mind his manners in public and was generally polite... but he still had a nasty habit of being utterly blunt and brutally honest, almost to the point of being tactless.
Zeke was setting up his few belongings in the tiny spare room that Mr. Hino had given him. Or rather, he should say Hino-san, this being Japan and all. As far as he could tell, the old man had been a friend of his Grandfather's. This made Zeke immediately wary, but the priest seemed to be just as wary of Zeke. And that girl, too. Sweet Raven above, Zeke swore he had never seen a prettier girl before - she left all the girls on the reservation behind with the smell of burning rubber. Zeke then chided himself - he had little experience with girls and was nervous at best.
People can suck at the best of times. Give Zeke the tranquility of the open air or a machine to work and he was happy as a clam. But that didn't mean that companionship with someone wasn't desireable, and despite his introverted nature, Zeke hated being alone all the time. To be honest, though, what does one expect having Raven for a god? He was one of the more mercurial ones - Light and Dark, Life and Death, Destruction and Birth, Joy and Sorrow, Gossiper and Silent Spy. Pretty much everything applied to the Grand Old Bird himself. Zeke knew simply because he did.
It kinda sucked being an avatar sometimes.
But there are perks, he reflected as he distracted himself by teasing his bed covers into place with a few gestures. Aerokinesis was not telekinesis in the usual sense, and he had to use his anger to make it work... but it got the job done.
Zeke looked around his new space - everything was neat and tidy - perfectly orderly.
Order was one of the few things that Raven did not do... and Zeke hated that fact.
"Zee-kun?" came Rei's voice from outside. "Food." Grateful for the interruption, Zeke got up to go eat.
Okay, changes, aside from obvious:
1) Both parents dead, raised by grumpy grandpa.
2) Only special ability aside from being an Avatar is the ability to directly manipulate the wind... but he has to tap into his anger to do it to any real effect.
3) Not a Whispered, but has excellent mechanical aptitude with no formal training. Loves junk yards - once assembled a dune buggy out of various car parts. The engine died the first day, though.
4) Short fuse - forgivable, though, since he doesn't really angst about his past much. He'll reflect aplenty, but he won't anguish over it.
5) Medicine Man Idiot Savant - instinctively knows that the answer to the blues in most cases is a warm drink and an open ear.
Better now?