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youre-in-the-psycho-circus · 10 months

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Shandi | Two

Warnings: violence, abuse, hardcore action

Word Count: 1,738

Synopsis: The guys of KISS are on a mission from the Elder to find his Avatar in order to save their home Khyscz, and the whole Universe from the threat of the Destroyer. With the help of their powers and music, only She can help them defeat him and restore peace to the universe. An original idea based off of the KISS comics!

Prologue | 1

Master List

Chapter Two: Almost Human

Ace had Beth stay the night to make sure she was going to be okay. He was worried that this ‘Wicked Lester’, as she called him, might’ve done something more to her than she knew. A human bestowed power by the destroyer surely had no idea how to fully control it. Any potential side effects of the contact that Lester made with her were surely going to show during the night if at all. Ace looked down at the female sleeping peacefully beside him. He ran a hand over her cheekbone smiling softly at the fading bruise. The bit of cosmic energy he let fall from himself to her had already begun to work its magic. Most of the swelling disappeared within the first hour she had been asleep, and at this rate, the injury would be but a distant memory by morning. Ace looked down at his hands as he sat up. The arcane magics and holistic sciences all grappling for a place within the Spaceman’s head were desperately trying to figure all of this out, more importantly, why it felt that the Elder’s energy was so close yet so far. He felt a surge of that power every day early in the morning before the sun came up for a few minutes but he could never pinpoint from exactly where. With Beth laying next to him tonight he could swear that he could hear a crackle of the elder’s magic speaking to him, but then again that very well could’ve been his ‘other head’ talking to him. He hoped that the others were doing better than he was.

Ace rose from the bed, silently padding his way out to the living room. This couldn’t wait until morning. He stood in the centre of the room, gripping both hands into fists before closing his eyes. Ace was encased with a blue flash of light, his normal starry-eyed bedazzled Spaceman appearance taking hold. With another flash of light, the Spaceman found himself in the Bergen Street Lower-Level Platform once again. Spaceman sat on the edge of the platform concentrating for a few moments before one by one his colleagues appeared. Starchild was first as he stretched with a yawn. A very tired and annoyed-looking Demon followed with a grumble. Finally, a passed out on the floor Catman joined the group. “There better be a good reason this couldn’t wait until morning, Ace,” Starchild muttered as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Demon stood grimacing at the peaceful Catman. As much as he wished he was doing the same at the moment, he was more annoyed than anything that he could sleep through all of this. “Get up you lazy asshole!” He yelled, kicking the Cat.

Catman yowled, claws jetting out from his fingertips as he made a move to swipe at his attacker before realising who it was. “Oh Gene, it’s just you. I thought it was somebody important.”

“Now listen here you…” Demon grumbled getting in the Catman’s face before the Spaceman’s blue magics forced the two of them apart.

“Enough. We’re just as tired as the two of you, now if you would just stop bickering we can get back to bed sooner. This meeting of the Order of the Rose will come to order.” Starchild grumbled as he stepped between the two of them.

“Fine.” They both muttered.

“What’s this all about anyway?” The demon raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms across his armour-clad chest.

“The Destroyer. He’s here, on Earth.” Spaceman replied with a worried look in his eye. The three before him stiffened very slightly at the news. “Or rather his power is here.”

“How is this possible?!?!” Catman yowled as he ran his claws through his dark hair.

“You’re sure it’s him?” Demon raised an eyebrow at the starry-eyed man before him.

“Twenty-five earth years on this planet trying to find the Elder’s avatar and this is the first time you’ve come across his power. Why now? How did you find out?” Starchild continued the questioning.

“Beth. My neighbour. Her employer is an agent of the destroyer, bestowed with his power.” The Spaceman informed them as he recalled Beth’s story to them.

“Shit, I can’t believe that a mere human has control over a power like that.” Catman looked down kicking at a rock. “She’s alright, yeah? Beth?”

“Yeah, I had her spend the night with me to make sure she was alright. I could sense that some of Wicked Lester’s magic entered her. Feels like a mind control hex was hoping you might be able to pull it from her Gene…” The Spaceman trailed off as he looked down the abandoned tunnel. “That’s not all either.”

“Don’t tell me. You found the mythical ‘Shandi’ too, didn’t you?” Demon retorted, rolling his eyes.

The four stood around the Spaceman’s bed glancing down at Beth as she slept peacefully. “What makes you so sure it’s her?” Demon asked as the Catman sniffed at the air trying to see if he came up with whiffs of the arcane magics that supposedly possessed her.

“I’m not entirely sure but I just sensed something when I felt the tug of the hex within her. The energy surge just felt so similar to that of the Elder’s.” Spaceman explained. “See for yourself.” He gestured to her glancing at the Starchild.

“Wait.” Demon stopped him. “Lemme remove the hex first. Last thing we need is it bouncing off onto you.” He grumbled before he began to chant in a language foreign to the other three. His eyes turned completely dark as he thrust a hand toward Beth. The others looked on as a crimson mist rose from her lips into the Demon’s mouth. He bit down harshly before blood poured from his mouth. The demon smirked as he closed his eyes, licking at the blood as he opened them, revealing their normal state once more.

“Is hex removal always this gory?” Catman grimaced.

“Only the extremely demonically potent ones.” Demon chuckled. “This Wicked Lester, as you call him, has quite a connection to the Demonic powers the Destroyer possesses.”

Starchild looked down at Beth’s sleeping form. He let out a breath as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, a purple beam shot out from his star-covered eye and scanned over the female from head to toe. Catman sat on the edge of the bed closing his eyes as if he were listening for something. “So is it her?” Demon asked, he was so anxious to get off this planet and kick some Destroyer ass especially after devouring that curse.

The beam retracted back into the Starchild’s eye as he finished his examination. “I don’t know, there’s definitely something different about her energy signature compared to the average human, but I don’t think it's ‘Elder’ equivalent. And even if it is, it’s very weak. No guarantees it’s coming from her, could be the remaining fallout from the Elder himself on your totem you’re sensing. Or maybe others from Khyscz came here before us and she’s a descendant.” Starchild concluded his analysis of the female.

“I don’t know Paul…” Catman grumbled as his head twitched ever so slightly, his brows furrowing in annoyance at the high-pitched whirring sound he picked up on. “I can hear the crackling of the Elder’s Starlight nearby. It always had such a distinct sound, nothing like it in all the cosmos. And the scent of it is quite potent as well.”

“There’s no way to know for sure, but it’s our best lead on Shandi’s location since we got here.” Demon grumbled looking at the girl’s sleeping form. “Twenty-five long damned years….”

“That’s only a year to us, though you’re right, Gene. For now, we’ll keep tabs on this girl…” Starchild started.

“Beth.” Spaceman corrected.

“Whatever, we’ll keep tabs on Beth for the time being while we continue our search. If she shows any signs of possessing the starlight, we’ll be ready to help her harness her true power.”

“So now we’re babysitting?” Demon rolled his eyes. “We’re Rock ‘n Roll stars, Cosmic Guards, and councilmen for the Order of the Rose, do we really have time for this?”

“For the time being, yes.” Starchild scolded.

“Shockingly, I’m with Gene on this one Paul.” The Catman spoke up. “We can’t just be going around thinking someone is the Elder’s avatar. There has to be a way we can be sure or a way we can check at least.”

“I’m not entirely sure, this would’ve been in the ancient texts in the Elder’s library back on Kyhscz, for obvious reasons we can’t go back there…” Starchild wondered aloud as he looked down at Beth’s sleeping form.

Spaceman, always sensitive to the cosmic energies, offered his perspective. "We need to be careful. If she truly possesses the Enchanted Starlight, exposure to cosmic forces might awaken her abilities before she’s ready. We need to look for opportunities where her connection can naturally reveal itself."

Demon, the most pragmatic of the group, chimed in. "But we can't just wait around indefinitely. We need a plan, and we need to ensure that she's the real deal. Maybe we can subtly expose her to cosmic events or artifacts associated with the Enchanted Starlight to see if she reacts. If she is Shandi, it might trigger something within her."

Catman nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, but we have to be careful not to overwhelm her. We need to guide her, not scare her off."

Demon couldn't help but voice his concerns once more. "I still can't believe we're doing this. It's like we're placying cosmic detectives."

Catman let out a chuckle. “Cosmic Scooby-Doo.” Spaceman couldn’t help but let out a laugh himself. Their laughs were silenced as Demon let out a deep throated demonic growl. “Sorry…”

Starchild offered a reassuring nod. "We're navigating uncharted territory. The cosmos is full of mysteries, and we have a duty to uncover them.” Starchild's words resonated with the group, reaffirming their shared mission and the importance of their roles as cosmic protectors. They knew that the path ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but their commitment to uncovering the cosmic mysteries remained unwavering. The four looked down at the sleeping female, blissfully unaware that her entire life was about to turn upside down in the most rock n’ roll way possible. “Beth's destiny and the fate of Khyscz rest in our hands."

Chapter Three: When Lightning Strikes

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queenlucythevaliant · 2 years

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Time to share another of my favorite Christian poems with you all. It’s a martyrdom poem by Varlam Shalamov, a victim of the Soviet gulags and also the writer of Kolyma Tales. A few favorite stanza are written out here; the entire poem is typed out below. It’s a little on the long end, but entirely worth it.

“Avvakum in Pustozyorsk” by Varlam Shalamov

The walls of my church

are the ribs of my heart;

it seems life and I

are soon bound to part

My cross now rises,

traced with two fingers.

In Pustozyorsk it blazes;

its blaze will linger.

I’m glorified everywhere,

vilified, branded;

I have already become

the stuff of legend.

I was, people say,

full of anger and spite;

I suffered, I died

for the ancient rite.

But this popular verdict

is ugly nonsense;

I hear and reject

the implied censure.

The rite is nothing—

neither wrong nor right;

a rite is a trifle

in God’s sight.

But they attacked our faith

in the ways of the past,

in all we’d learned as children

and taken to heart.

In their holy garments,

in their grand hats,

with a cold crucifix

in their cold hands,

in thrall to a terror

clutching their souls,

they drag us to jails

and herd us to scaffolds.

We don’t mind about the doctrine

books and their age;

we don’t debate virtues

of fetters and chains.

Our dispute is of freedom,

and the right to breathe—

about the Lord’s will

to bind as he please.

The healers of souls

chastised our bodies;

while they schemed and plotted,

we ran to the forests.

Despite their decrees,

we hurled our words

out of the lion’s mouth

and into the world.

We called for just vengeance

against their sins;

along with the Lord,

we sang poems and hymns.

The words of the Lord

were claps of thunder.

The Church endures;

it will never go under.

And I, unyielding,

reading the Psalter,

was brought to the gates

of the Andronikov Monastery.

I was young;

I endured every pain:

hunger, beatings,

interrogations.

A winged angel

shut the eyes of the guard,

brought me cabbage soup,

and a hunk of bread.

I crossed the threshold—

and I walked free.

Embracing my Exile,

I walked to the east.

I held services

by the Amur River,

where I barely survived

the winds and blizzards.

They branded my cheeks

with brands of frost;

by a mountain stream

they tore out my nostrils.

But the path to the Lord

goes from jail to jail;

the path to the Lord

never changes.

And all too few,

since Jesus’s days,

have proved able to bear

God’s all-seeing gaze.

Nastasia, Nastasia,

do not despair;

true joy often wears

a garment of tears.

Whatever temptations

may beat in your heart,

whatever torments

may rip you apart,

walk on in peace,

through a thousand troubles

and fear not the serpent

that bites at your ankles—

though not from Eden

has this snake crawled;

it is an envoy of evil

from Satan’s hand.

Here, birdsong

is unknown;

here one learns the patience

and the wisdom of stone.

I have seen no color

except lingonberry

in fourteen years

spent as a prisoner.

But this is not madness,

nor a waking nightmare;

it is my soul’s fortress,

its will and freedom.

And now they are leading me

far away in fetters;

my yoke is easy

and my burden grows lighter.

My track is swept clean

and dusted with silver;

I’m climbing to heaven

on wings of fire.

Through cold and hunger,

through grief and fear

towards God, like a dove,

I will rise from the pyre.

O far-away Russia—

I give you my vow

to return to the sky

forgiving my foe.

May I be reviled,

and burned at the stake;

may my ashes be cast

on the mountain wind.

There is no fate sweeter,

no better end,

than to knock, as ash,

at the door of the human heart.

#this poem absolutely destroys me #there are so many threads running through it but more than anything I see such beautiful submission to God's will in it #the road to the Lord goes from jail to jail; the road to the Lord never changes #and so there's this exhortation to relish martyrdom and long for glory #like so many of the martyrs #and yet it's so uniquely personal and Soviet #that opening line: if they blow up our cathedrals and outlaw our meetings we will still carry the church in our chests #behind our ribs in our hearts #and then to say 'we don't care about the specific books or rites or liturgies we care about /freedom/#but not freedom in the way that most people in this situation would mean it in the way that he would have every right to mean it #freedom for God to bind as he please #and somehow the part that makes my heart twist most with grief is 'i have seen no color but lingonberry in fourteen years'#YET still this is not a waking nightmare; it is my soul's fortress #my soul's barren colorless fortress #but God is there #and so my yoke is easy #ughhhh this poem #and that ending #the awareness that the greatest end a person can have is to have one's death be a tertimony #if you haven't read it read Kolyma Tales #it's some of the most beautiful prose I have ever read applied to one of the most awful subjects in history #and for goodness' sake read this poem #it will do your soul good #the unquenchable fire #literature makes us more human #leah learns calligraphy #i would cut off a toe for the chance to write about this poem in a formal context #but tumblr will have to do #martyr club this is for you #russia where are you flying to?

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