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sakon76I haven't been writing in a while, having a rather large chunk of my time and energy being taken up with making the house my husband and I bought, y'know, structurally sound and habitable. So I haven't been writing. This evening, though, I decided screw it, and started putting down one of my more cracky ideas into text. So... for those who don't yet fear the depths of my brain, have at.
Before Time began, there was the Chalice.
We know not who crafted it, only that it has the power to create life.
That is how our race was born.
For a time we lived in harmony, but like all great power, some wanted it for good... others, for evil.
And so began the war.
A war that ravaged our society until it was consumed by Death, and the Chalice was lost to the far reaches of the world.
We scattered across the planet, hoping to find it and rebuild our home, searching every land, every island.
And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew us to an unknown shire called "California."
But we were already too late....
Trance Formers
by K. Stonham
prereleased 16th January 2009
"Hmm." The sound of his leader's contemplation was enough to cause Prowl to look up.
"What is it, my lord?" he asked.
The one who currently bore the name Optimus Prime--from the human Latin language, "Optimus" meaning the best, and "Prime" meaning first or foremost, neither of which were mere idle boasts--looked up from his reading material and tossed the tome at Prowl. "What think you of this human's statement?" he asked his Master of the Hunt.
Prowl easily caught the book and deciphered the modern human language. "'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'?" he read aloud, questioning. At his lord's subtle nod, he continued, "An interesting theory, certainly. It demonstrates infallible faith in human technology... and a sadly lacking knowledge of magical theory." He looked at the words again, foul black chemicals imprinted upon trees and rags. "A theory of appearances and ignorance only, my lord. Perhaps unfitting," he dared.
He could dare, as few others might. He had earned that distinction, risen from a mere wraith in his lord's service to one valued, known by name and sight and sound. He wore now the full, soft informal robes that suited his station, white and black to fit in with the light and shadows of the full moon nights on which he led the Wild Hunt in the mortal world. His hair and skin were nearly as pale as his robes, and were it not for the sixth finger on each hand and the way his dark eyes saw more than just light, he might be mistaken for human.
"Humans," Optimus mused, his own gaze seeming to cast its sights far beyond the walls of the hall. "You have little faith in them, Prowl."
"I've seen the Puck's reports," Prowl replied evenly. "And on the few nights you've sent forth the Hunt of late, I've tasted the pollution they cast in the air and soil and water. I find little to value. They're a violent and primitive race."
Optimus cast a long, thoughtful look at the knight garbed in moonlight and shadows. "They are young, and have much to learn. But there is goodness in them."
"As you will, my lord." Prowl bowed in deference, expressing polite disagreement with his master.
Another growled as he strode into the room. "Every time I gaze into the scrying pool, my ire raises. When are we going to engage the Decepticons?"
With long practice, Optimus waved down the objections of the fire-red fae who faced him. They were kin of sorts, Prowl had long known. The Prime's hair burned with the same quick flames as the fire-fae's whole body, for all that Optimus' skin was pale and garbed in deep blue. Their flame-blue eyes were the same, though, as were the gentle points to their ears. Barring Ironhide's coloration, they both looked far more like humans than many of the Fae court, including Prowl himself. "In good time, my friend."
"But Prime--"
"We haven't the resources to take the war to them, Ironhide." Their Prime was firm on this. "When the Chalice is found... then, perhaps...."
"And when will /that/ be?" Ironhide demanded.
"Maybe not for a while," a new voice chimed in as shadows moved. Ironhide and Prowl both started; for all the former's experience as a warrior and the latter's experience as a hunter, neither of them could match or detect the stealth of the spy who now stood before them, lithe and gray and dangerous. The Puck moved forward and knelt at his master's feet.
"Rise, my friend," Prime commanded. The Puck did so. "What news have you?"
"Sadly, none, my lord," the gray fae replied, shaking his head. His long hair didn't even sound a whisper as it fell around his long, sharp ears. "Those who have the Chalice have it bound beneath stone and air and water, hidden from our senses."
"It is held, then?"
A nod. "Held, not buried, not lost."
"Humans," Prowl deduced.
A sharp nod. "I've poetry, though."
"Poetry?" Ironhide's tone was incredulous.
"I met a girl who sang the blues," the Puck said with a slight grin, "and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before, but the man there said the music wouldn't play. And in the streets the children screamed, the lovers cried, and the poets dreamed. But not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken...."
"Pretty enough," Prowl allowed.
The Puck flashed a brilliant smile at him. "Human," was all he said, before vanishing once more into shadows and his own hunt.
*~*~*
A/N: The premise is along the lines of "giant transforming alien robots = elves." And I know there's going to be at least Norse mythology in there too, not so sure about any others yet. Yes, Puck = Jazz. (And, yes, Optimus = Oberon.) Jazz's "poetry" is from Don McLean's song "American Pie." The premise Prime and Prowl are pondering is the third of Clarke's Laws. And if you happen to detangle what I've done to them, there are lines from both the '86 movie and the '07 movie in here. Now, off to pry out my Froud book on the Fae so that this doesn't end up reading like a Mercedes Lackey work. Any comments, critiques, thoughts, etc., are deeply appreciated.
Before Time began, there was the Chalice.
We know not who crafted it, only that it has the power to create life.
That is how our race was born.
For a time we lived in harmony, but like all great power, some wanted it for good... others, for evil.
And so began the war.
A war that ravaged our society until it was consumed by Death, and the Chalice was lost to the far reaches of the world.
We scattered across the planet, hoping to find it and rebuild our home, searching every land, every island.
And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew us to an unknown shire called "California."
But we were already too late....
Trance Formers
by K. Stonham
prereleased 16th January 2009
"Hmm." The sound of his leader's contemplation was enough to cause Prowl to look up.
"What is it, my lord?" he asked.
The one who currently bore the name Optimus Prime--from the human Latin language, "Optimus" meaning the best, and "Prime" meaning first or foremost, neither of which were mere idle boasts--looked up from his reading material and tossed the tome at Prowl. "What think you of this human's statement?" he asked his Master of the Hunt.
Prowl easily caught the book and deciphered the modern human language. "'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'?" he read aloud, questioning. At his lord's subtle nod, he continued, "An interesting theory, certainly. It demonstrates infallible faith in human technology... and a sadly lacking knowledge of magical theory." He looked at the words again, foul black chemicals imprinted upon trees and rags. "A theory of appearances and ignorance only, my lord. Perhaps unfitting," he dared.
He could dare, as few others might. He had earned that distinction, risen from a mere wraith in his lord's service to one valued, known by name and sight and sound. He wore now the full, soft informal robes that suited his station, white and black to fit in with the light and shadows of the full moon nights on which he led the Wild Hunt in the mortal world. His hair and skin were nearly as pale as his robes, and were it not for the sixth finger on each hand and the way his dark eyes saw more than just light, he might be mistaken for human.
"Humans," Optimus mused, his own gaze seeming to cast its sights far beyond the walls of the hall. "You have little faith in them, Prowl."
"I've seen the Puck's reports," Prowl replied evenly. "And on the few nights you've sent forth the Hunt of late, I've tasted the pollution they cast in the air and soil and water. I find little to value. They're a violent and primitive race."
Optimus cast a long, thoughtful look at the knight garbed in moonlight and shadows. "They are young, and have much to learn. But there is goodness in them."
"As you will, my lord." Prowl bowed in deference, expressing polite disagreement with his master.
Another growled as he strode into the room. "Every time I gaze into the scrying pool, my ire raises. When are we going to engage the Decepticons?"
With long practice, Optimus waved down the objections of the fire-red fae who faced him. They were kin of sorts, Prowl had long known. The Prime's hair burned with the same quick flames as the fire-fae's whole body, for all that Optimus' skin was pale and garbed in deep blue. Their flame-blue eyes were the same, though, as were the gentle points to their ears. Barring Ironhide's coloration, they both looked far more like humans than many of the Fae court, including Prowl himself. "In good time, my friend."
"But Prime--"
"We haven't the resources to take the war to them, Ironhide." Their Prime was firm on this. "When the Chalice is found... then, perhaps...."
"And when will /that/ be?" Ironhide demanded.
"Maybe not for a while," a new voice chimed in as shadows moved. Ironhide and Prowl both started; for all the former's experience as a warrior and the latter's experience as a hunter, neither of them could match or detect the stealth of the spy who now stood before them, lithe and gray and dangerous. The Puck moved forward and knelt at his master's feet.
"Rise, my friend," Prime commanded. The Puck did so. "What news have you?"
"Sadly, none, my lord," the gray fae replied, shaking his head. His long hair didn't even sound a whisper as it fell around his long, sharp ears. "Those who have the Chalice have it bound beneath stone and air and water, hidden from our senses."
"It is held, then?"
A nod. "Held, not buried, not lost."
"Humans," Prowl deduced.
A sharp nod. "I've poetry, though."
"Poetry?" Ironhide's tone was incredulous.
"I met a girl who sang the blues," the Puck said with a slight grin, "and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store where I'd heard the music years before, but the man there said the music wouldn't play. And in the streets the children screamed, the lovers cried, and the poets dreamed. But not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken...."
"Pretty enough," Prowl allowed.
The Puck flashed a brilliant smile at him. "Human," was all he said, before vanishing once more into shadows and his own hunt.
A/N: The premise is along the lines of "giant transforming alien robots = elves." And I know there's going to be at least Norse mythology in there too, not so sure about any others yet. Yes, Puck = Jazz. (And, yes, Optimus = Oberon.) Jazz's "poetry" is from Don McLean's song "American Pie." The premise Prime and Prowl are pondering is the third of Clarke's Laws. And if you happen to detangle what I've done to them, there are lines from both the '86 movie and the '07 movie in here. Now, off to pry out my Froud book on the Fae so that this doesn't end up reading like a Mercedes Lackey work. Any comments, critiques, thoughts, etc., are deeply appreciated.
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no subject
Date: 2009-01-17 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-17 01:20 pm (UTC)My one comment, and I don't honestly know how you would handle this, is the name "Ironhide". The Fae are traditionally repulsed by cold iron, so it's a bit odd to have one named after it. I'm sure there's some nifty way you can explain it, even if it means explaining it as an inexplicable conundrum. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2009-01-20 05:45 am (UTC)I think 'Ironhide' would be a sign of honor, of one who had challenged the humans and won, thus neutralizing the human 'advantage'. Just a thought.
I like the concept.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-25 10:49 am (UTC)It's a promising start!