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arjaandsimoni · 10 months

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The Raven Rebellion

A long time ago, a ruin off the coast of Ireland

The man coughed and gasped for breath, four massive ogres standing around him as they sneered down at the warrior. All the fight was beaten out of him, his body aching. “Yez ’ad enough then Fullmoon?” laughed one.

The man snarled and tried to scramble to his feet, aiming an iron dagger at the monster’s leg and stabbing it forth, only for one of his fellows to stomp hard on his back, causing him to drop it as he gasped in agony.

“Cease…” came a voice. A tall faerie strode forward, his body hidden under a long cloak, his face round as a full moon with a large sharp black beak and wide black eyes.

“Roight you are, yer owlship.” nodded the lead ogre, stepping away from him.

“Do you know who I am, mortal?” asked the faerie, leaning down.

The Fullmoon man snarled, “You’re the Lord of Owls… you’ve been preying on people in this area for months now.” he spat.

The faerie cocked his head, turning it almost upside down as he did so, “People? They are but chittering mice and rats to me… mere vermin for my talons.” the faerie replied.

The man growled, “You’ll have to kill me. I am of Clan Fullmoon! The Maven, the Raven Queen, has claim on me! You can’t take me.”

The fae stood, haughty and proud, “HAH! I laugh at your claim Fullmoon man! What is a raven to an owl but more prey?” he sneered, turning, and waving an arm as an archway in the ruin behind him began to shimmer, then transformed into a pathway into the Hedge. “Bring him, he will serve well as one of my guardsmen.” commanded the Lord of Owls.

The four ogres each grabbed one of his limbs, lifting the man up as he cursed and screamed, struggling against their strength, but even the strength of Clan Fullmoon had its limits.

They carried him through, and then the door slammed shut… and all was silent…

Castle Fullmoon, Present Day

Franklin Fullmoon stared out the window of his office. He should feel satisfied, accomplished. Eliza’s prophecy had been thwarted, Arja and Simoni may still be alive but they had been rendered powerless. They could never stand against him now… and yet…

… they were still alive.

The cyclops was too strong, he had to retreat. Claiomh Dorcadas was a good sword in its own right, but a cyclops was a mighty foe even for a member of Clan Fullmoon, and the magic devouring powers of the blade could do nothing against a being who didn’t use magic to begin with!

He’d heard reports of what had happened to Roger, and he knew he should feel furious at his fate. Roger was his son after all… and yet… he didn’t. He felt nothing for his death. He hadn’t felt anything for any of the lives lost in his attempts to stop Eliza’s prophecy from coming true.

The only time he felt anything was when he looked upon the works of magic, on the supernatural, and then he felt nothing but a blinding fury and a desire to destroy whatever his gaze fell on.

A knock came at his door.

“Enter.” he said.

One of his aides came in, carrying a folder of reports. “Sir. We have a situation.” he said in an urgent tone, “We’re getting reports from across the globe. Fullmoon agents abandoning their missions and going dark, we’ve lost radio contact with over one hundred and fifty of our men… whats more, there are reports that their homes are abandoned. Their wives, sons, daughters… all gone.” he said.

Franklin’s eyes narrowed, “Are we under attack?” he asked. He’d half expected this, the Vanara to retaliate after what he had done… but across the entire world?

“We don’t believe so Sir… every one of them sent the same message back before breaking off contact.” he held up a report, “It said, ‘the Ravensguard stands against the tyrant.’”

Franklin turned, his eyes narrowed, “… Ravensguard… are any of them making for Jaipur?” he asked.

The man hesitated, “We don’t know… but, we believe that some may be… and we believe that they may be accompanied by… um… Jeannie.”

He scowled, “… sister…” he whispered under his breath.

Jaipur India

Nelen, Dawn, Arja, and Simoni raced through the streets, heading for Hanuman’s temple. Arja couldn’t believe what the monkey had told her, after all this they’d been mad enough to come back?!

“Gonna burn burn buuuuurn them…” she snarled, gritting her teeth.

Simoni nodded, she had no problems with that, if anything she was fed up with her family. She’d rather throw away that heritage and remain in India forever now.

Nelen however seemed to think something else was up and, with many very loud protests from Drusilla, had insisted it just be the four of them.

They made their way through the dense jungle to the temple grounds to find a half dozen Fullmoon men standing firm around someone, making a circle to shield the person between them. Their weapons were not drawn, but they were not standing down. Surrounding them were three times that many Vanara, wielding spears, talwars, and other weapons of war.

“WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE?!” demanded Arja as she walked into the ruins, her body erupting in golden fur as she transformed into her Vanara form. "Did Franklin send you to finish the job? HE FAILED! WE GOT OUR POWERS BACK AND I’M GOING TO USE THEM TO INCINERATE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!” she roared in fury.

As she did however a voice came from among them. “Aye, I dunnae doubt ye mean it ya wee monkey… but stay yer flame. Me ‘n me boys mean ye no harm.” it said.

This gave Arja pause. She’d heard that voice before… but not on this plane of reality. Rather deep below, after a train ride that she still sometimes woke up in a cold sweat remembering.

“Eliza?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

The voice chuckled, “Nae, but ah have been told ah got ‘er voice. Stand aside boys…” she said.

The men parted their circle, and a woman walked out. She was an elderly thing, with a face like a raisin and silver hair bound behind her head, wearing a long green dress. She used a cane to walk, a long wooden one with a handle like a stylized raven’s head. “Ye be speakin’ o’ me late mother. I’m Jeannie, heir to the position of Matriarch before that bastard of a brother o’ mine usurped it.” she nodded, looking to Nelen.

Nelen nodded back, “Its begun then?” he asked.

“Aye lad. Its begun. Our men are makin’ themselves scarce. The Ravensguard willnae support Franklin nae more. Explosives in broad daylight, riskin’ mundane deaths, workin’ with criminal mobs, ‘n raisin’ ‘ell at a protected site?” she frowned, “Franklin goes too far, ‘e risks exposin’ us ta mundane society. Me brother’s obsession with yer sister ‘n ‘er gelfriend has driven ‘im even madder ‘n he already was.” she frowned.

Arja blinked at Nelen, looking between the two, “Wait, you knew who they were?” she asked.

Nelen shrugged, “I had a hunch. Loren told me about Jeannie and her Ravensguard and how they were wanting to try to overthrow Franklin but lacked the power to do it.” he said. “They were trying to spy on him as much as they could, but Franklin tends to keep them out of the castle as much as he can, and Jeannie is too suspicious to spy effectively.”

Arja growled at that, turning on Jeannie, “And you couldn’t have stepped in when he was trying to kill Simoni BEFORE all this happened?” she demanded.

Jeannie looked at her, and she looked truly old as she did, old and very weary, “Nae, though I wanted to. She’s me great niece ye wee monkey… but there ain’t a hunter alive who hasn’t had ta make a hard decision ta save people. My faction o’ th’ clan is comparatively small… most are too afraid o’ Franklin or too loyal to ‘is ‘kill ‘em all’ horseshite. But ‘is recent actions ‘as made enough o’ th’ fence-sitters finally choose their sides. Franklin will see nae more ‘elp from us, ‘n when th’ time comes… we’ll stand with ye gel.” she nodded.

“Why do they care though? I thought Franklin’s magic-eating sword couldn’t hurt them!” she snarled, jabbing a finger at one of the men next to her.

Jeannie frowned, “They care because they know what th’ clan SHOULD be.” she snapped, “What it was before Franklin began his mad campaign, when we stood by our men ‘n brought th’ storm to those what threatened th’ world… which is why he wouldn’t go after THEM… he’d go fer their wives ‘n daughters.” she nodded.

Simoni put her hand on Arja’s shoulder, nodding, “Yeah… I figured it out a while ago after we found out about Claiomh Dorcadas. It can’t steal their inborn strength, the magic changes them in the womb and then vanishes, after that they’re no more magical than the next guy… but Clan Fullmoon keeps records of all the family. Franklin is using their families as leverage, just like he did with me and my mom.” she nodded.

At this Arja’s expression changed, “Oh… um… I mean…” she hesitated, straightening up as her fur vanished, going back to her human form, “That’s… yeah, that makes sense…” she muttered, her fury draining away as she realized just how twisted Simoni’s family had become under her grandfather’s rule. “Sorry… I didn’t realize…”

Jeannie nodded slowly, “Nae, ya got every reason in th’ world ta be furious with me family gel, ‘n believe me I’m none too happy with a good lot of ‘em now either… but there’s another reason I’m ‘ere… Franklin decided ‘e wanted insurance, incase ye somehow regained yer powers…” she warned.

Simoni paused at that, looking at her as Nelen frowned. “He didn’t…” muttered the warlock.

Jeannie nodded sadly, “Aye, yer mum has been taken by Franklin’s loyalists. She’s at Inishmore by now.”

When the Void Rain occurred in times long forgotten, the meteors carrying the baleful metal used to make the Mundane Blades would leave massive impact craters where they landed. The debris and metal left by their strikes would seed the land around it, creating a sort of dead zone for magic. No spells could be woven, no magic could be worked. It would only seal it as long as one remained in the crater but seal the magic it did.

When the meteor landed in Ireland, it struck the island of Inishmore, and the Clan Fullmoon of the day realized the use of such a place. They worked in secret to cover the crater over, disguising it as an ordinary hillock, and inside it… they built a prison.

Even though Clan Fullmoon were the original holders of Claiomh Dorcadas, they used it only rarely and with the current matriarch’s express permission to do so. It was too powerful a weapon to abuse. Instead, many of their foes who could not be defeated outright were imprisoned.

This prison was intended for all those creatures that the clan faced that could not be killed, would not remain dead, or were simply so powerful that they could only be contained. Locked away inside the prison on Inishmore Island, robbed of their powers, they languished in the dark… alone and forgotten.

Frankin had seen other potential in the prison however… those witches who stood against his rule faced imprisonment there. He had turned Inishmore, a prison only meant to be used against those that could be dealt with no other way, into a political prison to hold those who attempted to usurp his control.

The prison had no name, it showed up on no maps, all that the clan knew was that, on occasion, someone would “go to Inishmore.”

… and more often than not, they would never be heard from again.

Jaipur, the Barjar Residence

Simoni sat on the couch in the rec room, her face in her hands, her mind full of horrible thoughts. The last time she had seen her mother in person was when she had that fight with her the day she fled to Jaipur… and now she was locked away in Inishmore?!

She’d been back to Cincinnati since then, but it had always been too big a risk with Franklin watching her home… she really knew what Nelen meant then about why he couldn’t go home. Arja sat near her, giving the garuda a hug, “At least we know your dad didn’t get caught.” she replied.

That had been blind luck. Their father, Gregory, had been away on a business trip when this had happened. He had returned home to an empty house and a crime scene and, after being questioned by the police, was put under their protection. He was clearly afraid for his family, but for the moment Franklin couldn’t risk exposure and take him too… though there was a large question mark over how long he would care. Gregory was a mundane, just an ordinary businessman. Had he been there he would have likely wound up hospitalized or dead. Judging by the state of the house Catherine had decided to join her daughter’s opinion of ‘to hell with the magic moratorium’ when Franklin’s agents came, apparently the building was quite the mess.

Stephy was sitting next to her, the faerie ‘princess’ trembling himself. Catherine had been one of the few Fullmoons who had ever been truly kind to him and had even tried to protect him from his father’s abuse rather than ignoring it… the idea of her languishing inside Inishmore was every bit as intense as it was given Simoni’s own fear feeding it.

Tex saw this, then nodded and walked behind the bar, taking out the box his mother had given him…

In either case though, they had a big problem. Drusilla was their only fighter who didn’t use magic, and she would have to go in alone…

“I tried contacting Loren, but she went into hiding with the rest of the Ravensguard. She was already a vocal opponent of the magic ban, probably wants to show her support as much as anything.” he nodded, “But still, even with how strong you are Drus, against a whole prison’s worth of Fullmoon guardsmen… you can bet they’ll be the best loyalists Franklin has.” he frowned.

“HAH! Bring ‘em on! I’ve been wanting a new belt anyways.” she grinned widely, “If they’re anything like that wussy patriarch I’ll just have to roar and they’ll all turn and run!”

Nelen frowned, “Drus, half the reason Franklin retreated was because he’d gotten what he wanted. These ones will stand their ground and you will be outnumbered…” he warned.

“Well she ain’t goin’ alone.” came a voice.

Nelen looked over to see Tex standing over an open box at the bar, pulling back the slide of a Barretta M9. “Mom figured ah might need it more 'n her... I can’t use mah deck in there, but nothin’ magic ‘bout gunpowder.” he grinned.

Nelen smirked, “A kid from Texas with a handgun… we’re saved!” he snorted, then ignoring a loud ‘hey!’ from Tex he turned back to the center of the room, “We need something else… some help… guys. We’re hitting the damn bar.”

Drusilla looked at him, “Pre-fight drinks?” she asked.

Dawn grinned, “Hiring some backup.” explained the cat, her tail swishing, “We’re going to the Wulfshead.”

The Wulfshead Club, a few minutes later

Nelen walked into the bar that night with Arja, Simoni, Dawn, Tex, and Drusilla following behind. Sammi and Stephy had elected to stay behind along with Natasha, who couldn’t come as it was daytime, and Lupe, who wouldn’t come without Natasha.

Nelen looked around, then went up to the stage and cleared his throat. As soon as he did someone shouted ‘FREEBIRD!’ and he sighed and rolled his eyes. There was always one. “No karaoke tonight for me guys. I’m looking to hire. Who here is up to raiding an anti-magic prison?” he asked.

Immediately a sea of faces turned away from him, the Fullmoon man’s eye twitching in annoyance… but he couldn’t blame them. The vast majority of the Wulfshead’s clientele was like him and his allies. Either they couldn’t fight without magic or, in some cases, needed it to survive. He’d hire out further if he could, but the only ones he could think of off the top of his head were lunatics like Suzie Shooter from the Nightside (also known as ‘Shotgun Suzie’ or ‘Oh fuck! Its her! RUN!’) and he’d rather prefer not to have to take any of his own allies home in a bucket.

However… one voice spoke up, “What anti-magic prison?” they said.

Nelen looked out through the haze into the smoky bar. Smoking was prohibited in bars in most countries these days, but in a place where the clientele regularly broke the laws of reality, nature, and decency nobody was going to thank them for not smoking… besides, if you weren’t hard to kill you were probably in the wrong bar.

“Clan Fullmoon’s, on Inishmore Island.” he said.

From the back of the room, someone stood up and walked forward. “I’m in.” came a voice. A woman strode across the dance floor towards the stage, a black woman with her hair tied into cornrow braids with colorful beads at the ends of each, going down just past her ears. She wore a designer top in a deep purple and black leather pants, a pair of black leather knee-high biker boots on her feet, and at her hip was a longsword with a curved blade, a scimitar. Aisha De Lane, up and coming fashion model out of New York to the mundanes of the world, but to the supernatural realm heir to the line of Sir Moraen, born in Morocco Africa and a devout Muslim his entire life, the only black man to sit at the Round Table of King Arthur. The True Black Knight.

Nelen raised an eyebrow, hopping off the stage, “Seriously Aisha? You’re in just like that?” he asked. “I mean I ain’t gonna complain about having your sword backing us up… but I gotta ask, why?”

Aisha nodded to him, “Mmmhm. Just like that Fullmoon. I got beef with your family as much as ya’ll do.” she frowned. “Been lookin’ for a way into that prison of theirs for two months now.” she said, following him back to the booth where the rest of the team sat, letting Nelen introduce her. The booths in the pub were massive things, big enough even for their bigger clientele, so even Drusilla could sit comfortably (it helped that they didn’t have to worry about the buildings on the other sides of the club. Nelen was pretty sure the bar wasn’t actually part of the mundane world.)

“Well, we’re going in after my mother. My loon of a granddad took her, hoping to use her as leverage if he needed to come back to India after our team.” he said.

Aisha took out a cigarette from her pocket, Arja leaning over and snapping her finger helpfully as a flame appeared on her index fingertip. Aisha blinked in surprise, then smirked and leaned in, puffing on it a few times, “Thanks girl.” she grinned, then took a pull and let the smoke slowly waft upwards. “Sounds like we all in the same damn boat then Nelen.” she replied, “Assholes got my sister.” she frowned.

New Orleans City Park, Scout Island, Around Two Months Ago

The agents lay scattered around the field, groaning softly as they struggled to their feet. Standing nearby was a woman idly spinning a cane in her hand, wearing a long red dress and a broad brimmed straw hat, her eyes sparkling with something akin to moonlight.

“Ya’ll think ya can come inta my city ‘n cause trouble boys?” she grinned, “Oh no no no… You wanna come down to N’awlins ‘n have a lil’ fun, maybe sample some crawfish then fiiiiiiine… but ya’ll better BEHAVE.” she snapped, smacking one of them across the chops with her cane. “Mind. Yer. MANNERS!” she added, hitting him each time for emphasis.

Hiding nearby was a group of changelings that the men had been after who had been sneaking hedge fruits to some of the more impoverished areas of the city to help out families. It was an old deal, the families left anything they didn’t really need on the rooftop, slightly worn shoes, a few coins, a bit of bread, and the changelings left the fruits that helped them stave off the pains of arthritis or the ravages of addiction… but apparently someone in the local medical community had begun wondering why he wasn’t making as much money from that part of town as he had been before, and knew just enough to tip off the wrong people.

Terri DeLane. Unlike her sister, the rest of the DeLane family didn’t really follow the path their ancestor had set down in Camelot. She stuck with the family’s current business… namely, Vodou practitioners, protecting those in New Orleans who couldn’t protect themselves (yes, Vodou. Everyone always spells it wrong.)

She stood, her cane clacking down onto the ground next to her with a sound like a judge’s gavel, as she slipped a pipe into her mouth and smirked, the coals in the bowl lighting up her face… and for a moment it appeared that she looked… different… older… nastier… but the kind of nasty you wanted on your side. The person you’d rather be standing behind than infront of.

Unfortunately for her… someone was behind her.

“LOOK OUT TERRI!” cried one of the changelings, the young girl with large beetle-like eyes and gossamer wings almost leaping from cover as the other two pulled her back.

The vodou girl’s head snapped up, and she turned a second too late as two electrical leads snapped into her side, then a jolt of electricity powerful enough to stun an elephant arced through her body!

Terri DeLane’s eyes bulged as she screamed in pain, her knees collapsing out from under her as her cane fell from her numb hands, her pipe bouncing on the sidewalk as she went down in a heap, her limbs twitching as she gasped for breath, trying to get her lungs working again.

As she lay there she swore she felt her heart stop… and then a voice whispered in her ear…

Oh hell naw… ain’t ya’ll time yet girlie… none of THAT now!

And she gasped as her heart started up again… but her patron loa could only keep her alive… that jolt had been enough to kill her SEVERAL times over! She couldn’t move, she could barely see or hear, her body still crackled with stray voltage. She was helpless…

“Son of a bitch Brandon! That’s the stun gun we use on fucking werewolves!” came a man’s voice.

“She took out four of us! What was I supposed to do?! I… hang on… SHE’S ALIVE?!” said another, but Terri’s vision swam, she couldn’t see their faces anymore.

“… she fucking survived that… she should be a slab of beef jerky in a dress!” came the first man’s voice, but it sounded so far away…

“No choice then… she’s coming back with us. Call it…” she heard as her consciousness began to fade, “… Inishmore Island…”

Wulfshead, Present Day

Drusilla glared across the table, cracking her knuckles. She didn’t say it, but everyone could read that expression.

“The changelings she was protecting escaped while they were draggin’ her off. They got word back to my family… but by then their boat had already left the harbor.” Aisha frowned. “My sister is a mambo, patron is Kalfu of the Crossroads. He won’t let her die until he’s done with her.” she nodded.

Nelen nodded, “Yeah… that’d be the usual policy. If it can’t be killed, won’t stay dead, keeps putting itself back together, splits into two, or whatever… in it goes.” he growled. “Now we’ve got two people we need to get out of there.”

Arja looked thunderous, “So… wait… those changelings were helping people?” she demanded, her fury at Clan Fullmoon only growing by the day anymore.

Aisha nodded, “Mmmhm. Hedge fruit got all sorts of uses. They had a deal with the poor families, something small ‘n convenient for ‘em to give away, hedge fruits to keep ‘em healthy in exchange. Way I get it that thing they was given didn’t really matter, the changelings got some sorta magic fuel from the act of th’ exchange.” she said.

Tex nodded, “Yeah, Stephy told me ‘bout stuff like that bit ago. Gives ‘em a bit o’ glamour without havin’ ta hunt it up. Like them ol’ faerie stories ‘bout leavin’ out a bowl of milk ‘n bread ‘n some brownie’ll clean yer house.” he replied.

Aisha snorted, “Mmm, but some jackass with a fancy lab coat ‘n a buncha letters behind his name noticed his kickbacks from Humana ‘n Aetna suddenly started goin’ down ‘n looked inta why.” she frowned, blowing a plume of cigarette smoke out her nose.

Nelen nodded, “… and he got word out that something was helping his patients in a way that wasn’t FDA approved.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Bloody fucking… people can’t just leave well enough alone… And of course, once Franklin heard about it then he’d send someone to sort them out. I swear he despises everything supernatural… but if has anything to do with Arcadia he really loses his shit, even by his standards.”

Aisha rolled her eyes, “Yuuuup… so yeah, ya’ll doin’ a jailbreak from that island. I want my damn sister back.” she nodded firmly.

Nelen frowned, “That still leaves just two of us who can fight in the cave…” he warned.

Tex cleared his throat.

Nelen sighed, “… two of us and one kid with a damn pea shooter.”

Tex frowned at him and started to stand…

Nelen put his hand on Tex’s shoulder and shoved him back into his seat. “Kid, I get it! You think I did this…” he held up his hand to show the gauze pad wrapped onto his palm, “… because of the fucking RETIREMENT PLAN?” he growled. “You saw how little that thing did to my uncle remember? What the hell makes you think it’ll be useful NOW?!”

Tex frowned, then sighed, “Look, I just can’t stand by… That’s my lil’ filly’s aunt in there…” he said.

“Tex, I’m not saying stay back… I’m saying stay OUT of the damn prison. Magic works everywhere else on the island and once Drusilla and Aisha start raising hell inside someone will sound the alarm and contact Castle Fullmoon for reinforcements.” he nodded. “They go in, the rest of us stay out and hold off any other Fullmoon agents that show up!”

Tex blinked, “… oh.” he said, then nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, why didn’t ya’ll say that in th’ first place?” he asked.

Nelen frowned, “We’re about to go to a stronghold of Clan Fullmoon, with their elite guarding it, in order to stage a daring rescue of my mother, that will likely not only draw my grandfather’s attention but could very well alert him to the fact that the attack on Hanuman’s temple failed completely and that Arja and Simoni got their powers back.” he replied, “I’m a TINY bit stressed out here…” he sighed, “Anyways… here’s what we’ll do.” he started, taking out his tablet and opening Google Maps…

A Hidden Cave on Inishmore Island

In the middle of the island, somewhere between Kilmurvey beach and the ruins of the ancient fortress of Dun Duchathair, was a hidden cave. The entrance sealed with a large iron gate and a sign reading ‘Danger! Area unstable! Keep out!’

The area was covered in ancient ruins from Irish history, nobody would notice once more… nor did they seem to notice that the gate was very well kept or made from wrought iron instead of steel or some more durable material.

The inside of the cave was a spiral leading downwards, cut into the hill, each of the cells with cold iron bars built right into the rock… and most of the cells were occupied.

Inside one sat Terri DeLane, nursing a headache. Being cut off from Kalfu’s voice was akin to the kind of phantom pain one gets when you lose a limb, but the nature of the cave meant the loa couldn’t reach her here… no matter what she tried her voice couldn’t cut through the influence of the void iron fragments seeded into the ground so long ago.

In another sat Catherine Fullmoon, still in the torn outfit she had on the day she was dragged from her home in Kentucky. She fought bravely, but in the end she was overpowered… the middle aged woman wishing she’d run off when her daughter did, but it was too late for regrets now.

In another cell however, something much older than both sat… appearing to all the world like an elderly old woman in a dirty white dress, her body shriveled and weak. She could tell something was happening, the guards were more on edge now than they’d ever been… it hadn’t happened yet but… well… she’d been waiting over a thousand years… what was a few more days?

#supernatural adventures #fiction #modern fantasy #lgbtq

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i-j0s · 3 years

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Watchmen 2009 - Nite Owl II

#watchmen #gif #animated #owlship #dc #movie #2009 #comics #fly #heroes

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so-shiny-so-chrome · 5 years

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Witness: Owlship

Creator name (AO3): Owlship

Creator name (Tumblr): v8roadworrier

Link to creator works: https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/owlship

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: i am still asking myself this question! something about fury road grabbed me at just the right point in my life to interest me, and the people & community i found have been just wonderful at keeping me feeling interested & connected. i love that the world presented is clearly well thought-out and cohesive, while at the same time allowing for a huge variety of explorations even while staying strictly within the bounds of canon.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: well, it's pretty clear that i adore the relationship between max & furiosa, since they star in 90% of my fics, and au's are kind of my thing. i don't consciously have a style that i write in- i just try and write more-or-less what i think could reasonably happen, i suppose, and to be honest i think of my actual writing as pretty utilitarian, rather than anything with a nice artistic style. probably the most frequent recurring theme in my fics is pining leading up to a happy ending, and i like to think i flirt with miller's idea of "engage to heal" pretty frequently as well.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: i have fun with all my fics, or else they don't get written! i'm not good at making myself do things i don't want to do, especially if the only reason to be writing fic is to have fun in the first place. most difficult would probably be "birds in last year's nest" (the omega!max fic) because i really wanted to handle the issues in it well, while the easiest to get written was "out of the bag" (cat!furiosa) despite its length because it basically just wrote itself. my most popular is definitely "around the corner" (petshop au), which has a very dear place in my heart even if it's not the most polished of my fics. my favorite is usually whichever i've published most recently :)

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: hopeful above all, with a good balance of gritty and soft, depending on the particular fic. i like to explore the realistic effects of things, but i'm also happy to gloss over the tricky details in favor of fluff. i've only written one fic with an unhappy ending so far and i don't see myself adding to that number anytime soon, and i am just not great at humor so i avoid trying to be funny.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: my writing process is simple: i get an idea (usually i steal it), i bundle myself up in bed, and then i do other things while writing a sentence or two every few hours. sometimes i get into the groove and can bash out a few thousand words in a day, other times i flounder for weeks without anything holding my interest. when i do write i always work chronologically, which means finding the actual start of the fic can take a few tries, and figuring out the end can be difficult if i haven't really filled in the details in my head yet. for rough patches i put my head down and try to force words out, but if it doesn't want to happen i just let it go and move on, unless it's for a gift, or something like nanowrimo where i want those bragging rights. i don't use written outlines or keep notes of anything, which is a bad habit but one i can't shake. if it's not important enough for me to remember, how important was it really in the first place?

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: right now it's finding the motivation to write when i've got other stuff going on in my life, especially on days when i am tired out even on my days off. other than that- staying focused on a project long enough to get it finished! i also struggle with juggling multiple characters especially in the same scene, making sure that everyone gets their turn and sounds authentic.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: my writing, both in terms of technical skills and how i compose a story, has just improved leaps and bounds since i started writing fics, thanks in large part to the feedback i'm lucky enough to get, as well as the sheer volume i've been able to put out. i've definitely learned a lot about what kinds of ideas interest me to write, which is not necessarily the same things i want as a reader.

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: i probably relate to max the most, or at least the version of him that lives in my head- it's easy for me to get inside his pov, but that means i have to stop myself from making *every* fic his pov! furiosa is a close runner up in terms of how much i like writing her, which is lucky because she's the other 50% of my fics, but it's a lot harder for me to get inside her head, so i have to pay attention more to what i'm doing when i write her.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: i probably do, but not intentionally. of course i use my own experiences and feelings when writing, but i always try to translate them to the mindset of whoever i am writing. it's just been drilled into my head too many times that writing yourself as a character is not what you are supposed to do, i think.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: max & furiosa, 100%. platonic, romantic, as soulmates, as enemies- i love every possible permutation of how they can interact with each other since they're so similar but still very distinct. i love how much of their relationship is unspoken but perfectly understood- or not, and how that can set up their interactions.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: i pay a hell of a lot more attention to what's happening in canon, and pick apart even minor gestures or bits of speech to really drill down into the character's heads. if i was just watching the movie(s) to enjoy them, i'd stay a lot more surface level instead of analyzing details like what the interior of the war rig says about furiosa, or what's in max's kit at the beginning of the movie vs the middle, etc.

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: nearly all of my works are unrelated. i love coming up with little tweaks that don't really effect anything but might contradict each other (which of the wives takes on what role post-canon, how long it takes before max comes back for the first time, etc), and writing in a single series would mean i'd have to address those differences. short fluff or pwp pieces where the entire fic is just a single scene tend to share enough similarities that you could imagine they take place in the same 'verse, but to be honest, that's just me being lazy ;b

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: canon is fake and the author is dead! that said, i do actually try and stick as close to the canon facts as possible unless it's something i'm deliberately changing, because after all without canon there wouldn't be any shared understanding of the characters that makes fanfic possible. this is one of the trickiest parts about writing an au, because i have to find the right balance of familiarity to canon with what's different about each au in order to have the changes i make to the characters/setting/etc make sense to the reader.

Q: Where do you get your ideas for your AUs?

A: all sorts of places! some of them are given to me- i love prompts- others i steal from other fandoms, like bodyswap or wings or turning furiosa into a cat, some i search out via idea generators, and at this point i honestly can't watch/read any new stories without going "but how can i turn this into an au??" i also like to say "what if" almost *constantly* and sometimes that leads to full fics, other times i just make a post on tumblr with some half-baked ideas of how it could work out. what if furiosa's mother didn't die before the movie? what if max had a pet dragon? what if it started raining and didn't stop? it's honestly harder for me to write a strictly canon fic at this point :)

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: i actually don't have a ton that apply to every fic, because i like switching things up- but here's some ones taken for granted in 99.99% of my canonverse fics: furiosa lives after the end of the movie without any major complications, max comes back to the citadel at some point, furiosa has her own room with not much more than a bed, a workbench, and a window, the war boys are willing to accept the wives as the new rulers (and that the wives form a council rather than a dictatorship), and somehow the bullet farm & gastown fall into line with the citadel's new way of thinking. also, max has a sweet tooth and furiosa doesn't remember most of her dreams.

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.?

A: something i try to keep in mind at all times is: write for yourself and not your audience. does your heart of hearts want to ship those two characters? hell yeah make 'em kiss. have a scene that is super cliche or over the top but you can't stop thinking about? write it! your stories need to be interesting to you first and foremost, because a reader absolutely can sniff out the difference between a scene you thought would be "good" and one you had fun with. you can always edit later to shape your fic into a different direction if you feel like you need to.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: i've been to wasteland weekend twice now and hope to visit many more times in the future! it's a super fun experience in general, and it's also helped me get a feel for what a mad max world would really be like, rather than just relying on my imagination. i'd love to visit australia some day, both for mad max and other reasons, but ideally not while there's an apocalypse going on.

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: *throws dart at gdocs* let's see.... i've got a fic started where furiosa is a viking, and after a raid gone wrong she ends up injured at max's farm where she has to learn the language and customs and come to terms with being his slave (until they fall in love, obviously). haven't worked on that one since july but hey, it's not going anywhere.

Thank you @v8roadworrier

#mad max fanfic #mad max fandom #Mad Max Fandom Spotlight #Mad Max Fandom Creator Spotlight #mad max fanfic author spotlight #fury road fanfic #fury road fandom #owlship #v8roadworrier

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artemisia-nova · 2 years

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Archie’s view

#not sure where I was trying to go w this but I’ve always liked the idea of telling the story from Archie’s perspective idk #my art #danror #watchmen #rorschach #nite owl #daniel dreiberg #archimedes the owlship #watchmen fanart #dc fanart #dc comics #as always with backgrounds mega refs used

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thejovianmute · 7 years

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Author rec: Owlship

Owlship at AO3 - Owlship on Tumblr

Owlship writes Mad Max Fury Road. Primarily Max/Furiosa (so het warning, for those not into it!) but some others as well. I love the way she writes, she has an amazing turn of phrase, and can sketch fantastic characterisation with a minimum of words. Everything she writes is engaging as hell. Also, I want to reblog just about everything she posts to tumblr.

Favourite Fic/Series: Birds in Last Year's Nest (Max/Furiosa) - this is the last fic I ever expected to like (mpreg used to be on my HELL NO list, and I'm still iffy on A/B/O dynamics in general) but I've found myself going back to read it again and again, it's just so good. It's a beautifully vulnerable and complicated Max, dealing with a situation he really doesn't know how to cope with. I like that it treats the A/B/O forced-heat-sex situation as sexual assault (and not romantic, like some fics, ack), and that Furiosa acknowledges it despite Max forgiving her. I love that they both have sex-related issues due to past rapes, and yet they somehow manage to make it work with each other. Even if you're not traditionally a fan of mpreg or A/B/O, this is worth trying.

Honourable Mentions:

Between Sun and Geography (Max/Furiosa) - Soulmate fics are another thing I'm torn on - I don't really like the idea of the soulmate concept and yet I keep on reading them, go figure. This one is memorable for the beautiful imagery of the wings and feathers.

Can't Carry It With You (Max/Furiosa - warning, unfinished) - Werewolf Max! I just love the idea of shifter Max (although he should have been a dingo, seriously, Max has all the personality traits of a dingo) and the Max and Nux dynamic is really nice. Hoping it gets finished one day.

Greenstick (gen) - Normally I like getting stuck into longer stories, but this short piece is just gorgeous. Dag's point of view.

A Sure Thing (Max/Furiosa) - Max pays his way by working a day in a brothel; Furiosa and her pack of warboys arrive as customers. An interesting story because it went in the opposite direction than I expected it to: Max is not the victim here (although he does NOT assault Furiosa, for those concerned).

God, I could go on reccing Owlship's fics all day. I also love her Max & Furiosa bodyswap; a Furiosa-as-Mom fic where Max is a kid's author who writes about his dog; the Back to the Future crossover with Furiosa in the present day; and pretty much all of her others, honestly.

#owlship #owlship's fic #fic rec #mad max fic #mad max fic rec #mmfr fic rec

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fandomtrumpshate2017offerings · 7 years

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Owlship - FTH Contributor Page

See Owlship’s works here and here!

To contact the seller before bidding, please send a Tumblr ask

If you have a very specific prompt and are not flexible, it’s best to contact the seller before bidding, even if it fits within their listed parameters. If you are asking for a specific kink, always ask first.

Charities these auctions benefit: Bidder's choice of any of the listed groups

(See full list at our FAQ)

Owlship’s offerings:

Owlship Auction #1

Type of fanwork: fic Fandom(s): Mad Max, Moana Rating(s): G, Teen, Mature, Explicit Length/size: up to 5k words, 5-10k words, 10-20k, 20-50K, >50K, I tend to get wordy in general and can't say I have a set-in-stone "donation to words" ratio, but I'll put in extra work in terms of length for a higher donation. The quality will remain the same no matter what! Especially interested in: My main pairings are Furiosa/Max and Moana/Maui, though I'm open to writing others including no pairings at all. My typical genre can best be called "crack treated seriously" and/or "porn". Weird AU ideas a specialty. I'm willing to write pretty much anything, from fluffy gen to hardcore kinks to an angst fest! Will not: "Unsanitary/bathroom" kinks, explicit drug use, and "happily-ever-after" love stories that permanently break up my OTP. Literally everything else is fair game including major character death, "edgy" kinks, etc. Notes: Hello bidders! If you're already familiar with my work then you'll know that no idea is too weird or too mundane, and if you're just seeing my name for the first time then trust me, no idea is too weird. Just let me know what you'd like- whether you have a detailed outline or a vague idea- and I shall do my utmost to write it to your satisfaction!

Auctions run from 12 January 2017 (Midnight, EST) to 19 January 2017 (Midnight, EST). Bids before or after this period are invalid and will not be counted.If you would like to bid on this auction:

Step 1: Check the bidding spreadsheet to find out what the current high bid is. (Note: It may take up to five minutes for a bid to appear.)

Step 2: Fill out the seller’s bidding form with a bid that is higher than the current high bid. If you want to make it harder for someone to outbid you, bid higher! You will NOT be notified if someone outbids you, so please bookmark this page and check frequently. You will only be notified if you are the high bidder after the auctions end.

Thanks for participating in Fandom Trumps Hate!

#owlship #fanwork: fic #fandom: mad max #fandom: disney

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checkurselfb4umachuwreckurself · 6 years

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Gongenzaka voice: Being the only one who doesn’t drink is putting a lot of pressure on me. Dennis told Shun that someone was accusing him of being an owl, and low and behold, Shun actually said “who”. It’s an okay joke, but it’s probably even better drunk, because Dennis proceeded to continue saying that joke another 8 times, Shun falling for it each time, Dennis losing his goshdarn mind just as much each time

#I remembered their ot3 ship is 'owlshipping' and honestly. dennis would even if he wasn't drunk #Snarky Arc V

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inkorrect-watchmen · 2 years

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laurie: what happens if i activate the flamethrower and the water cannons at the same time?

rorschach: owlship takes a screenshot.

dan: that's it. neither of you are allowed in archie again.

#watchmen #incorrect quotes #laurie juspeczyk #rorschach #daniel dreiberg

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darkfromday · 7 years

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band of brothers (24)

Prompt: Day 7 - Tomorrow

Pairing: Owlshipping (Gongenzaka Noboru/Kurosaki Shun/Dennis Mackfield)

This is it. Last one. Thanks to all who read or skimmed by all these! ‘Review replies’ will be coming along shortly. For now, have Gongenzaka being nuts about a head sash.

One morning, Gongenzaka Noboru’s signature head scarf frays and tears as he’s securing it around his sturdy hair.

That... presents a problem.

Not a big one, because Gongenzaka is nearly a full-grown man and he absolutely does not become overemotional or immobile over the loss of some cloth. (Even if his father gifted it to him for his citywide Steadfast Dueling debut. Even if he’s never taken it off since then. Even if the two most essential men in his life have never seen him without his scarf.)

So--not a big problem, no. Just--big enough to have Gongenzaka frantically dialing his ride.

“Moshi moshi...”

“DENNIS, I’VE SUFFERED A TERRIBLE TRAGEDY--”

“What’s happened?” Dennis Mackfield says through the sound of driving far too erratically. “Did someone get hurt? Did you get hurt? Did your pet die? --Actually wait, do you even have pets?”

“Dennis!” Gongenzaka roars. “Cancel the meet-up, I cannot go out like this.”

“Cancel? We haven’t set aside time for this rumble and the trophy grab so you can flake out on Duel Day! The tournament’s been set for months! What has happened?”

He stays stubbornly quiet about his woes, but that doesn’t mean he quits talking entirely. This leads to about five minutes of him and Dennis arguing back and forth about his reticence on the subject, interspersed with the latter swearing at his fellow drivers.

“Fucking merge if you want to merge--Er, ignore that, just tell me what’s happened, Gon-chan--”

“Do not call me ‘Gon-chan’--”

“Tell me what’s wrong and I won’t go any further. But regardless of what you say I will be at your house in five minutes!”

“Gah!” Gongenzaka finally says as he caves, feeling more frustrated by Dennis’ pushiness than by his primary source of stress. “Fine! My very important headband is torn. And it’s never--I’m not--”

“Hey, easy...” The other boy’s voice comes through softer, more like he’s trying to soothe instead of startle and rile. “It’s gonna be okay. I won’t be looking at you any different just because it’s gone, okay?”

“My father gifted me with that band.”

“And he can make you another one, right?”

Gongenzaka pinches his nose to prevent murder. “Hang up now.”

“Aa, you’re right, I shouldn’t talk and drive! These guys are nuts out here. See you soon!”

“No, Dennis, I meant--”

Click.

Gongenzaka doesn’t say one word as he shuffled across town against his will in Dennis’ tiny green abomination of a car.

Not. One.

He asked specifically to be left alone to mourn his headband and--

“Are you breathing over there?” Dennis queries playfully. “I seriously can’t tell, and I can’t exactly do reach-over CPR either.”

Gongenzaka is silent. He’s not sulking--just very, very indignant about having his feelings disregarded. Which is very masculine and mature. That’s all.

“C’mon, Gon-chan. Put on a brave face! We’re at the stadium now so uh, you kind of have to put on some other face...”

Dennis pulls into the lot and parks as he says this--then he has to spend three minutes tugging, yanking and dragging his boyfriend out of his seat. The whole time Gongenzaka protests about honor and dignity and being robbed of both. He likes to look complete and in control when he goes out, and nothing’s wrong with that!

“I am diminished,” he says dramatically with a bite of judgment. “A true man never leaves home without being presentable, Dennis. When have I ever done otherwise?”

Dennis smiles slyly.

“What about that time when we were all home alone and we--”

“Other than that time!”

A pair of boots shows up behind Dennis; seconds later the redhead is hoisted up and literally tossed aside, squawking the entire time. When Gongenzaka looks up his eyes alight on a red bandana scarf, and he thinks oh, great with a mixture of resignation and appreciation.

“You’re making a scene,” Kurosaki Shun scolds. His gold raptor eyes narrow for half a second. Then he smirks. “That’s mostly directed at Dennis.”

“You guys are always so mean!” Dennis whines from the asphalt.

Gongenzaka meets Shun’s gaze and grunts. There’s no way he’s going to be allowed to slink home now. Only I could fall in love with the two people in the world more stubborn than me.

“I can’t join the team for Duel Day,” he admits to their third.

Shun scoffs. “What the hell? Why not?”

“Myscarfrippedthismorning--”

“Say again?”

“My head scarf tore,” Gongenzaka hisses, trying to avoid attentive eyes on them. It doesn’t work--two small girls stare at him like he’s grown an extra dragon head as they skip into the stadium.

“That’s it?” Shun gasps--still on the ground, Dennis nods along and squeaks about how that’s what I said, that’s why I brought him here anyway, why the hell did you throw me over here, Kurosaki you suck.

“Yes, ‘that’s it’. If I took off your bandana would you feel comfortable still being seen outside?”

“Well, since he lost his bandana for almost a year and only remembered it when LDS mailed it to him--”

“I will step on you,” Shun growls to Dennis--then he pushes Gongenzaka a little more playfully. “You’re a man, aren’t you Gongenzaka? Push past your admittedly minor adversity and join us in the stadium. We need you.”

Gongenzaka curses.

It’s easier to ignore Dennis rather than Shun--for Gongenzaka, one boyfriend was too boisterous, too willing to grasp for the spotlight, but the other was much quieter and more measured, much easier to understand and be around. Not so long ago when they had fought side-by-side for survival, Shun had been the first Lancer outside of Yuuya that Gongenzaka had trusted. They constantly partnered together for reconnaissance and preemptive strikes on the enemy. Yet... even then, their partnership had felt incomplete until Dennis started tagging along and constantly invading their space.

Dennis’ betrayal of the Lancers shortly after that broke Gongenzaka in a way no one had ever managed before, and it set Shun back almost irretrievably as well. Their reunion after the unification of the dimensions, ages and ages later, wrung from all three a tentative re-connection, and then over time a promise not to tamper with their brotherhood ever again.

Never again... Gongenzaka thinks now, and sighs as he nods at Shun and helps Dennis up reluctantly. Not even for my father’s gift. Our bond is too important for me to be this upset about nothing.

“All right, all right. I’ll come in. Are our riding suits ready for the D-Wheel segment of the tournament at least--?”

Shun waves a hand. “Already taken care of. Along with this for you--”

He pulls a long black sash out of his coat pocket and ties it around Gongenzaka’s hair with Dennis’ aid, as if he’s not completely changing his life and healing his last hour of sorrow.

“EH?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Dennis exclaims. “Except, you know, surprise, so I couldn’t. We know how much you care about your sash, Gon-chan--so we wanted to give you another one that you’d care about just as much, but from us.”

Gongenzaka stares at them both, speechless. Shun just smiles. Unused to quiet moments even now, Dennis misinterprets their boyfriend’s flabbergasted state and blabbers on.

“Hey--not that we won’t fix your dad’s sash for you if you really want it back, jus--”

The magician doesn’t get to finish; Gongenzaka has embraced both of them and is murmuring low thanks over and over. He feels ridiculous for being so obstinate and for nearly bailing on his comrades, but from the way they both return his hug, they don’t seem too torn up about it.

“Thank you,” he says one last time, and feels some pride when he doesn’t tear up afterward.

“Shun-kun picked the color,” Dennis mumbles into a sleeve.

“Don’t call me Shun-kun,” Shun grumbles into Gongenzaka’s other sleeve.

“Ugh, no one likes my pet names! How am I supposed to show my affection for you guys to the world?”

“Duel with us in this tournament,” Gongenzaka reminds him.

Shun adds firmly, “And use only our given names for once. Preferably in private.”

Dennis pouts. “You two are no fun. Why do I bother loving you?”

“We keep you out of trouble.”

“Gongenzaka, we keep him out of jail.”

“Okay, enough!” Dennis huffs, unable to keep a smile off. “Get your scarves and suits on and ready and mess with me more later. For now--we’re gonna be late!”

He’s right, Gongenzaka thinks as the twenty-minute warning blares from the stadium’s jumbo screens and they sprint off to meet their matches. I’ve been dragged all this way for Duel Day, so I might as well overwhelm the other teams in the tournament with my Steadfast-Synchro deck.

With Dennis and Shun at my side, nothing is impossible. There’s no way we won’t win.

It’s time... to duel!

#arc v rare pair week #Arc V #YGO #owlshipping #Darkday writes fanfic #Gongenzaka/Shun/Dennis #that's it. I'm done.#I'm out of here #I'm leaving the fandom for like seven days AT LEAST #it has taken me over two months to write something that was supposed to take seven days #bai bai y'all #lateposting 2017

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