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Request meme, spooky magical doom edition
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Characters: Canas
Word count: ~500
Warnings: None
Notes: Request from Raphien: "CANAS
Something about his brothers? Past shenanigans, current caretaking, being ~*TEMPTED BY THE DARKNESS*~ himself?"
The conversation with his brothers has gotten a trifle... one-sided these days. Every day, he sees less and less evidence that they even realize he is there. They used to whisper broken snatches of incantations when he came in, so that he was almost able to figure out what spell each had been working on in the instant they gave into the dark. It's an area where little systematic investigation has been done. He wants to know what they were working on. He wants to know where the tipping point is - what is the limit of the human mind? How much dark force can one take on before there is no going back?
He wants to study that precipice. And then a part of him wants to jump off of it, into the warm and whispering infinite.
He's lost that chance, though. They don't speak anymore. And he has a wife and son. Yes. And when he becomes like his brothers, he won't be able to take care of them anymore. Reasons to wait.
"There's fruit in it today," he says cheerfully, removing the lid from the basket he's brought them. For months now they've only eaten porridge, because they won't chew anymore - their minds are on other things - but his wife is kind to them, and will from time to time stir in bits of dried apples or peaches. Apples, this time. It smells like cinnamon, too. "Ah. How nice!"
Their eyes follow him as he unpacks the three dishes and divides the porridge evenly between them. He's not sure whether it's motion or sound that they react to. Certainly their eyes move as he moves, but they always seem to be looking at where he was a moment ago, not where he is now. He's tried to measure the time difference in the past, but it's too variable.
He can't shake the impression that they are looking through him at something else. Or perhaps they are looking at him through some kind of lens, through a great distance, and it takes a while for the light to reach them. He wonders what else they see.
"Hugh has learned how to crawl," he says, sitting down in front of the first brother (he has stopped trying to distinguish between them; they were always about the same size and their faces have become indistinct. He stopped feeling guilty about it when Niime admitted she couldn't tell them apart either. Nowadays he doesn't think they mind; it isn't as though they'd answer to their names anymore). "He's such a bright boy. Very curious, like a true scholar..." He carefully spoons porridge into his brother's mouth, meeting no more than the usual resistance. He had to take this task over from their mother, because she doesn't properly know how to be gentle. "Mother is taking every possible precaution to make sure he'll be prepared, but I'm not worried. I think our tradition is safe with him."
He pauses, scooping up another spoonful and waiting for his brother to swallow the first. That reflex is still intact, if sluggish. "And maybe someday he and I will join you."
Fandom: Fire Emblem: the Sacred Stones
Characters: Lyon, Knoll
Word count: ~600
Warnings: UTTER CRACK
Notes: Request from Xirysa: "In which there is use of the forbidden magic, Cephalopodia."
After everyone else was gone and the door was securely locked behind them, Knoll pulled out the book.
Prince Lyon looked pleased. "You did manage to find it! Oh, good."
"Yes, but... it was chained shut."
"Really? Then I was right! It must contain powerful magic." He smiled. "Tonight we may finally find the answers we seek."
In the face of such hopeful optimism, Knoll was loath to speak of his misgivings. He did not mention that when he had opened the book, a barbed tentacle had reached out from its pages and flailed about in the air until he'd slammed it shut again. After all, it was possible he'd been mistaken. It could have been one of the perfectly mundane tendrils of ominous darkness that seeped from books of forbidden magic as a matter of course. And even if his caution was misplaced, maybe the prince's optimism wasn't. Maybe the future was tentacles. If a sacrifice was needed, his only stipulation was that it be him and not the prince.
"Please stand well clear, Your Highness," said Knoll, gingerly lifting the book's front cover. Nothing so far. Of course, the Cephalopodia spell itself was well into the body of the text - the first several hundred pages were so much preamble and filler. He skipped to page 497 and stepped back cautiously as he let the book fall open.
No tentacles.
He looked at the spell again. Now the page looked quite benign - an entirely mundane collection of diagrams and sinister incantations. "Can it be performed with only two people?" Prince Lyon asked.
"It appears so. The principal stands... here," he said, pointing to one of the metal circles embedded in the floor for just such a purpose. "Any supporting spellcasters 'at oblique angles.'"
It took some time to study the spell and get the logistical concerns worked out. It took much less time to execute it. Almost immediately a gash opened in their reality within the confines of the spell, bringing a gust of warm air and the smell of rain. Hopefully no actual rain, Knoll thought, his concentration wavering for a moment; that wouldn't be any good for the books -
And then something eight-limbed and horrible vaulted out of the rift and smacked into a bookshelf on the opposite wall.
By unspoken agreement, Knoll and Lyon stopped the spell; after an unspoken disagreement, it was Lyon who approached the thing. It was huddled between an atlas and a pharmacopoeia and its two long eye stalks were pointed in entirely different directions. It had tentacles. At least six of them.
"It's a bit like a monkey," said Lyon. It chittered at him. "Although... look at its forelimbs, Knoll. Like some kind of sea monster. Only arboreal."
"We should send it back, if we can," said Knoll.
They couldn't. The tree-squid remained firmly ensconced in the top shelves of the bookcase, occasionally picking up tomes in its front tentacles, shaking them about, and replacing them as if they'd become boring. It wouldn't hold still long enough for either of them to hit it with a spell, and it would not be subdued.
They abandoned that room to the squid and had to continue their experiments elsewhere. But whenever they needed anything from that room, it would watch them when they came in, expecting something. It liked fish, paper, and throwing things, more or less in that order. Lyon began to jokingly refer to it as Knoll's pet.
Apparently some spells were forbidden for good reason.
Fandom: Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Characters: spoilerspoilerspoiler
Word count: ~450
Warnings: Spoilers through episode 9. General... weirdness.
Notes: Morri said to surprise her. I... was already on a roll with this spooky magical doom thing, so why not.
This is her concert hall. All of these musicians belong to her and they will play for her forever and she will not let anything make them stop. There will not be accidents and they will not hate her and she will not have friends who steal them away. If anyone comes, she will kill them. This orchestra will play forever, and it will play for only her.
She does not remember why - she stored her memories in the outer corridors where they won't bother her - but both of those things are very important.
And all the musicians have blank faces, so they do not have eyes to see her. They will not know the truth about her nature. They will think she is an ordinary girl, because she made them to think that. They will not think she is a monster. They want to be with her. She knows because she created them to want it.
She does not know what she is hiding, or why. Is there any reason to believe she is not an ordinary girl? And if she says that is what she is, here in this concert hall where she is the ruler of all that exists and reality bends to her whims, no one will argue.
She will drain as many lives as she needs to keep the orchestra playing, and that is all the traffic she will have with the outside world. Otherwise she will not move. She will let the music wash over her, and a boy with white hair will say "Sayaka..."
Sa ya ka? Out of all the sounds human mouths can make, what's special about those three? And why must it be a boy? And why must he have white hair?
These thoughts are disturbing. She dismisses them and holds her sword tightly, for comfort. The music crescendoes. She reclines and lets it wash over her. This is much simpler than those silly ideals about justice and heroism and protecting the weak -
What ideals? Whose ideals? She knows she has never believed in such a thing. She has been here from the beginning. If these strange thoughts have come, intruders brought them. And - yes - out in the corners of her mind she can feel doors opening. So someone else wants to intrude on this concert, do they? She will show them their error.
There are two girls. One holds a spear, and one... one...
Sa ya ka cha n - empty sounds float to her over the sound of her orchestra. She disregards them; they are unfamiliar. But the spear she recognizes. It is something that has hurt her before. And now it has come back, to make the music stop.
That is something she will not allow.
Characters: Canas
Word count: ~500
Warnings: None
Notes: Request from Raphien: "CANAS
Something about his brothers? Past shenanigans, current caretaking, being ~*TEMPTED BY THE DARKNESS*~ himself?"
The conversation with his brothers has gotten a trifle... one-sided these days. Every day, he sees less and less evidence that they even realize he is there. They used to whisper broken snatches of incantations when he came in, so that he was almost able to figure out what spell each had been working on in the instant they gave into the dark. It's an area where little systematic investigation has been done. He wants to know what they were working on. He wants to know where the tipping point is - what is the limit of the human mind? How much dark force can one take on before there is no going back?
He wants to study that precipice. And then a part of him wants to jump off of it, into the warm and whispering infinite.
He's lost that chance, though. They don't speak anymore. And he has a wife and son. Yes. And when he becomes like his brothers, he won't be able to take care of them anymore. Reasons to wait.
"There's fruit in it today," he says cheerfully, removing the lid from the basket he's brought them. For months now they've only eaten porridge, because they won't chew anymore - their minds are on other things - but his wife is kind to them, and will from time to time stir in bits of dried apples or peaches. Apples, this time. It smells like cinnamon, too. "Ah. How nice!"
Their eyes follow him as he unpacks the three dishes and divides the porridge evenly between them. He's not sure whether it's motion or sound that they react to. Certainly their eyes move as he moves, but they always seem to be looking at where he was a moment ago, not where he is now. He's tried to measure the time difference in the past, but it's too variable.
He can't shake the impression that they are looking through him at something else. Or perhaps they are looking at him through some kind of lens, through a great distance, and it takes a while for the light to reach them. He wonders what else they see.
"Hugh has learned how to crawl," he says, sitting down in front of the first brother (he has stopped trying to distinguish between them; they were always about the same size and their faces have become indistinct. He stopped feeling guilty about it when Niime admitted she couldn't tell them apart either. Nowadays he doesn't think they mind; it isn't as though they'd answer to their names anymore). "He's such a bright boy. Very curious, like a true scholar..." He carefully spoons porridge into his brother's mouth, meeting no more than the usual resistance. He had to take this task over from their mother, because she doesn't properly know how to be gentle. "Mother is taking every possible precaution to make sure he'll be prepared, but I'm not worried. I think our tradition is safe with him."
He pauses, scooping up another spoonful and waiting for his brother to swallow the first. That reflex is still intact, if sluggish. "And maybe someday he and I will join you."
Fandom: Fire Emblem: the Sacred Stones
Characters: Lyon, Knoll
Word count: ~600
Warnings: UTTER CRACK
Notes: Request from Xirysa: "In which there is use of the forbidden magic, Cephalopodia."
After everyone else was gone and the door was securely locked behind them, Knoll pulled out the book.
Prince Lyon looked pleased. "You did manage to find it! Oh, good."
"Yes, but... it was chained shut."
"Really? Then I was right! It must contain powerful magic." He smiled. "Tonight we may finally find the answers we seek."
In the face of such hopeful optimism, Knoll was loath to speak of his misgivings. He did not mention that when he had opened the book, a barbed tentacle had reached out from its pages and flailed about in the air until he'd slammed it shut again. After all, it was possible he'd been mistaken. It could have been one of the perfectly mundane tendrils of ominous darkness that seeped from books of forbidden magic as a matter of course. And even if his caution was misplaced, maybe the prince's optimism wasn't. Maybe the future was tentacles. If a sacrifice was needed, his only stipulation was that it be him and not the prince.
"Please stand well clear, Your Highness," said Knoll, gingerly lifting the book's front cover. Nothing so far. Of course, the Cephalopodia spell itself was well into the body of the text - the first several hundred pages were so much preamble and filler. He skipped to page 497 and stepped back cautiously as he let the book fall open.
No tentacles.
He looked at the spell again. Now the page looked quite benign - an entirely mundane collection of diagrams and sinister incantations. "Can it be performed with only two people?" Prince Lyon asked.
"It appears so. The principal stands... here," he said, pointing to one of the metal circles embedded in the floor for just such a purpose. "Any supporting spellcasters 'at oblique angles.'"
It took some time to study the spell and get the logistical concerns worked out. It took much less time to execute it. Almost immediately a gash opened in their reality within the confines of the spell, bringing a gust of warm air and the smell of rain. Hopefully no actual rain, Knoll thought, his concentration wavering for a moment; that wouldn't be any good for the books -
And then something eight-limbed and horrible vaulted out of the rift and smacked into a bookshelf on the opposite wall.
By unspoken agreement, Knoll and Lyon stopped the spell; after an unspoken disagreement, it was Lyon who approached the thing. It was huddled between an atlas and a pharmacopoeia and its two long eye stalks were pointed in entirely different directions. It had tentacles. At least six of them.
"It's a bit like a monkey," said Lyon. It chittered at him. "Although... look at its forelimbs, Knoll. Like some kind of sea monster. Only arboreal."
"We should send it back, if we can," said Knoll.
They couldn't. The tree-squid remained firmly ensconced in the top shelves of the bookcase, occasionally picking up tomes in its front tentacles, shaking them about, and replacing them as if they'd become boring. It wouldn't hold still long enough for either of them to hit it with a spell, and it would not be subdued.
They abandoned that room to the squid and had to continue their experiments elsewhere. But whenever they needed anything from that room, it would watch them when they came in, expecting something. It liked fish, paper, and throwing things, more or less in that order. Lyon began to jokingly refer to it as Knoll's pet.
Apparently some spells were forbidden for good reason.
Fandom: Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Characters: spoilerspoilerspoiler
Word count: ~450
Warnings: Spoilers through episode 9. General... weirdness.
Notes: Morri said to surprise her. I... was already on a roll with this spooky magical doom thing, so why not.
This is her concert hall. All of these musicians belong to her and they will play for her forever and she will not let anything make them stop. There will not be accidents and they will not hate her and she will not have friends who steal them away. If anyone comes, she will kill them. This orchestra will play forever, and it will play for only her.
She does not remember why - she stored her memories in the outer corridors where they won't bother her - but both of those things are very important.
And all the musicians have blank faces, so they do not have eyes to see her. They will not know the truth about her nature. They will think she is an ordinary girl, because she made them to think that. They will not think she is a monster. They want to be with her. She knows because she created them to want it.
She does not know what she is hiding, or why. Is there any reason to believe she is not an ordinary girl? And if she says that is what she is, here in this concert hall where she is the ruler of all that exists and reality bends to her whims, no one will argue.
She will drain as many lives as she needs to keep the orchestra playing, and that is all the traffic she will have with the outside world. Otherwise she will not move. She will let the music wash over her, and a boy with white hair will say "Sayaka..."
Sa ya ka? Out of all the sounds human mouths can make, what's special about those three? And why must it be a boy? And why must he have white hair?
These thoughts are disturbing. She dismisses them and holds her sword tightly, for comfort. The music crescendoes. She reclines and lets it wash over her. This is much simpler than those silly ideals about justice and heroism and protecting the weak -
What ideals? Whose ideals? She knows she has never believed in such a thing. She has been here from the beginning. If these strange thoughts have come, intruders brought them. And - yes - out in the corners of her mind she can feel doors opening. So someone else wants to intrude on this concert, do they? She will show them their error.
There are two girls. One holds a spear, and one... one...
Sa ya ka cha n - empty sounds float to her over the sound of her orchestra. She disregards them; they are unfamiliar. But the spear she recognizes. It is something that has hurt her before. And now it has come back, to make the music stop.
That is something she will not allow.
no subject
The second one was hilarious, but "It liked fish, paper, and throwing things" hit me especially hard. I guess it was a perfect cap to a ridiculous spell? XD
The Sayaka fic has a perfect ring to it; I like the way you wove her human desires and concerns into her witch persona, and especially "the spear she recognizes. It is something that has hurt her before." It makes perfect sense that, if she can remember anything after transformation, it'll be the things that hurt her. This one is my favorite.
no subject
I may be alone in this (or not; admittedly I haven't actually read any Canas fic), but I think Canas is a bit creepy, at least where his study of dark magic is concerned. He's awesome, and a nice guy, but I get a sense in his supports with Pent and Nino of "hey, this is almost guaranteed to end badly but it's totally worth it and why doesn't my two-year-old kid appreciate that"
And re: the Sayaka one - I've been wondering practically since the show started how exactly witches perceive the world. The trippy animation suggests it's pretty far removed from human experience, but unique for each witch, and... Now I'm speculating as to who the other witches were before they transformed, or what kind of witches Mami or Kyouko would have become.
I don't speculate about Homura because it's too sad and I think it's likely to happen anyway.There's just a lot of interesting potential there, and I'm probably rambling now, but. Thanks. I'm glad this fic worked!