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Wormverse ideas, recs, and fic discussion thread 1

Discussion in 'Fanfiction Discussion' started by Yog, Apr 21, 2014.

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  1. Older-than-Time

    Older-than-Time Slightly rich, sorta single, non-father brother

    Give in to the temptation.

    Resistance is futile~
     
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  2. Cryptix

    Cryptix

    Location:
    LA
    I'm pretty sure it's mentioned she's at least light skinned.
     
  3. I'd assume some kind of average Newfoundlander woman.
     
  4. What other ideological differences could there be to create different factions between them?

    Would there be issues on what the PRT is, a law enforcement agency or a government controled corporation for example?
     
  5. It's fine if people are on different pages, as long as they are still singing from the same hymnbook. :V

    Well for one, matters of practical decison-making. How much time do you spend investigating the 'crime' part, and how much the 'Parahuman' part. Do you spend money on spies and detective and monitoring technology, or on weapons and Tinker-tech to fight them? Or where do you fall on that scale?

    And of course, besides ideological, there are always BUDGET arguments.
     
    Last edited: Jan 7, 2017
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  6. Terrabrand

    Terrabrand the Ordainer

    Location:
    The Great Beyond
    This is the most adequate description I could find. Given the voice masking we hear about, I assume it's intentionally abstracted or the like- Command and Conquer Cabal or the like, not a photo realistic face. But we really don't hear/see, that I can tell.
     
    Last edited: Jan 7, 2017
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  7. From Triumph in Interlude 15:
    Dragon's appearance is aggressively average. Like she ran a few million photos through an algorithm and used a composite for her appearance. Which might be what she did, actually.
     
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  8. Endymion

    Endymion An Operator will be with you shortly.

    Hmm and probably weighted the average with any photos of Andrew Ritcher on file to make sure there is family resemblance.
     
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  9. Never mind that physical averageness was positively correlated to subjective beauty last I checked.

    Fuck it, she looks like Rommie (Andromeda) minus ten years now. Dark hair, 5'6", Scottish and Filipina... close enough.
     
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  10. Now. Crucible has gotten it's own thread as Point of View, and Crucible 1.5 is up.
     
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  11. Ellf

    Ellf Hivelord

    Location:
    Ohio
    .hack//Capes updates with Logout 1.3

    In which, we get some movement and the tiniest hint of stuff.
     
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  12. Hotdog Vendor

    Hotdog Vendor Yo momma is fanon

    Location:
    Down Under
    Or Dr Lam from Stargate, to keep the theme of your previous idea.
    @Older-than-Time the first rule of ignore function is don't talk about ignore function ;)
     
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  13. Iarna

    Iarna Purveyor of Unusual Ships

    Location:
    Bay Area, CA
    Last edited: Jan 8, 2017
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  14. Yeah, but Dr. Lam wasn't a machine. Rommie (and Cameron, HINT) was. Gotta maximize those geek points.
     
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  15. TotalAbsolutism

    TotalAbsolutism That One Guy

    Location:
    New Zealand
    In the Beginning, there was Chaos.

    Out of Chaos rose worlds populated with multitudes of beings. Wars were fought, Kings and Emperors rose and fell and civilizations were built and crumbled as millenia passed. Gods, dark and strange, were worshipped in pagan temples. Still there was Chaos. The gods fought amongst themselves, bringing even greater ruin to those who would serve them. At last there was One, a being of great power and enlightenment, who rose above His immortal peers and cast them out of the Heavens into Oblivion. From Chaos came Order, and with Order came peace, and the creatures of the worlds flourished. The Age of Chaos had ended.

    Now the Wheel has turned once again.

    - - -

    It had taken her over a month to gather everything. This was made somewhat more difficult by the simple fact that she didn't understand what she was gathering. Nobody else seemed to see them. She'd wondered, at first, if it was like this for other Capes. Nothing on any of the message boards she'd perused for information had suggested such. It wasn't like there was anyone she could ask.

    A sensation nagging in the back of her mind let her know that her father had come home. Some small part of her had been tracking him all the way home from work. It still unnverved her just how easy it was to do. Seeing him move around the city made her feel constantly tense whenever he passed too close to any sort of large group. Whatever the method she observed thing with was seemed to not only be reasonably inaccurate but perfectly willing to think of anyone that wasn't her or her father as an enemy.

    Between her fingers five whitish gems the size of a pea had being laid out on her desk. More, but different ones, sat in glass jars on her bookshelf. Careful tests had shown that other people, or at least her dad, couldn't see them. There were a couple of more white ones as well as yellow, red, green, and a few shimmering pearls. The most full jars by far were those containing the purple and the blue. She still didn't quite understand what caused them to come into being even if she somehow knew what they were.

    The light from the white gems flowed into the crude metal ring laid out in between them. As it did so the surface turned from the gray of iron to a bronzish hue. Imperfections were being smoothed out and on the exterior of the band an exterior cutting that looked vaguely like an inset gem was forming. This one item had been the work of several days of concerted effort and had left her feeling more and more drained with every passing session. And now...

    She stood up and felt the connection end. Light ceased to move and the gems became inert; like white glass. For all her power felt... off at the very least she didn't seem to need to inscribe any weird sigils or such. All of this stank of... well, magic. Part of her wanted to try writing a letter to Myrddin so she could see if he shared any of her peculiarities. Of course, internally she very much doubted that. The powers told her what she was, in a way.

    After dinner she went right back to the work. It had been a quiet affair, as usual, and hadn't felt especially... filling. Ever since what had happened she'd not had much of an appetite. Was that just part of what she was now? She didn't feel tired, either, no matter how long she stayed awake; nor did she feel sore no matter how far she walked. Every time she tried to look up details, more information, nothing even close to how she felt was forthcoming. Then there was the other matter.

    Trying not to think about it didn't help. It was always hanging there, in the back of her mind, with the slowly growing points of light that seemed to be somehow related to her strength. For all of the knowledge that had come to her part-and-parcel with this power there was so much she didn't understand at all. Yet every time she close her eyes she couldn't help but think of him. Was... was this what he was? Had he started as someone just as confused as her? Or maybe he'd taken to it better than her. Figured out how to make all of this weirdness work for him.

    The ring was finished by morning. She wore it to school the next day, as a proof of concept, and it had worked. Her mind's eye told her, constantly, how many hostiles were present in the building but the number would fluctuate to the point where it wasn't even remotely helpful. There wasn't an accurate count and it didn't seem to understand the difference between a neutral party and an enemy. The ring did, though.

    It had started silently buzzing against her skin almost as soon as she'd entered the building. Her memories, the repository of knowledge, has just told her it warned of danger and would enable one to gather more bodyguards in case of an assassination attempt. She intended to use it slightly differently. As soon as it went off she changed her intended path. The ring went silent.

    First test: Ring of Warning. Success.

    That was just the beginning. Her approximation was that the next two items would probably take at least another month to make since each one required twice the gems of the one she'd just done. There was a third one she'd been considering, and a fourth and fifth as well; maybe even a sixth. The problem was that not only did all of this take time to do but she also needed to collect resources. She'd have to prioritise. Plus, at some point, she needed to decide what to do with her life.

    Thus far, it was pretty clear that she was planning to be a hero herself. Even with all of the weird manifestations her power would class her as a Tinker; possibly a very unique one, since she was reasonably sure that most people would be able to use her items without any worries about maintenance. If she could put a bit of work into mass production of some things then she might be able to make a reasonable amount of money just from selling them. However...

    No. She didn't want to do it that way.

    Two more long months came and went. She decided to do the hammer first. It would decrease her long-term expenditure and also, she suspected, the amount of time and effort it took. Gathering the right sort of gem had proven harder than she'd thought, however, and so she'd started working on the boots in the meantime. They were easier to find.

    The first one she'd ever found had been one of the pearls. It had formed in her window. Specifically, it had formed a week after she'd gotten out of the hospital. On the night of the full moon she'd been woken up by a strange sensation and seen the moonlight caught in a cobweb over her window pain. The light had somehow... crystalised into that shimmering pearl. She'd had some idea of what it was on sight, of course, but even so...

    Finding others had been easier. She could poke around the waterfront and uncover the blue ones now and then in tide pools and such. The green ones would appear in the local park; as far from the tracks and paths of humans as they could, it seemed. Then there were the purple ones... it felt like she could come across those anywhere in the city. Any place that there was, or had been, suffering and pain and death. They were the easiest to find.

    Most elusive were the red and yellow; now that she'd realised she could find white ones in some birds' nests, and alone high roof tops. Gathering them was a bit of a mission but at least she knew where they would be. After a big fire she'd managed to find two red gem in the ashes by sneaking into the ruins and that had been her biggest haul of those yet. As for the yellow... it was hard. She was lucky to find one in a whole week, and she needed fifteen.

    There'd been an unexpected windfall in the form of one of the new Endbringer Shelters. She'd been passing by the site one day and happened to look down, only to spot some gems on one of the dirt piles. Later that night she'd stopped by to collect them and gone on to other construction sites besides to check where they were digging. With the hammer finished the rest of her work had been much easier. Now she was here...

    Her equipment was rather eclectic. The boots had developed fur rims upon completion and were ridiculously quiet. She could walk across broken glass without making a noise. Transforming a rough shirt made of iron wool into actual scale mail had been utterly bizarre but the result was sufficiently weightless that she could wear it underneath her hoodie. The amulet was hidden as well, since it didn't need to be exposed to be effective, but she couldn't really hide the staff. It was held in her hands as she walked nervously down the street; a crude stick encrusted with blue crystals down its length and one firmly embedded at the end.

    It wasn't until the helmet that she'd tried exercising some control over her creations, though; as the shape of the weird limbs and spikes had come together she'd done her best to push them down and close up the front a bit. It had... mostly worked. The base materials didn't seem to matter all that much and, so, she'd used an old and broken pot that had turned into a purplish metal as she infused it with the gems. Although it covered her face entirely when she wore it she didn't really have any problems navigating.

    The end result looked very much like a nerd who was rejected from a convention for not knowing how to pick one style and stick to it. She couldn't help but feel very self-conscious. Still, she had a plan. Going into the main building during the day wouldn't work for her. However, she'd 'seen' Armsmaster riding by this way one night while rummaging around the docks for blue gems. A few tests had confirmed that this was his regular path and schedule. So she was going to sit here, in plain sight, and wait for him to come by. Simple.

    Ten minutes later he was already five minutes late and she didn't know why. The night was quiet; if there was an emergency then she ought to have some idea of it, surely? She'd just been contemplating going home when her ring began to buzz at her. Unfortunately, this wasn't Winslow; thus, when the group of ABB gangers walked out of the business down the street they were able to spot her before she could get up and move.

    "Thanks for nothing," she grumbled at her item but knew that it wasn't its fault. It was designed for split-second warning against imminent danger. At school that could let her avoid people she didn't want to run into by quickly changing her paths but even then it wasn't infallible. Out in the open... well, she really ought to have swapped it out for something else but she had no idea what she wanted to make.

    The four of them nudged each other and walked her way. She pulled her hood down some more and clutched nervously at the staff. It didn't look all that valuable... to any normal person's eyes the gems on it were too large to be anything but fake, after all. Actually, she had no idea if they were or not. Besides, in a city like Brockton Bay who would ever mess with a weird looking stranger? That was just dumb.

    "Hey, little boy. You're out a bit late." Well. That was just embarassing, but not unexpected given that the armour didn't exactly do wonders for her figure under the baggy hoody. One of the other guys muttered something to his friend but she could understand them. Would it be better to respond, or ignore them? If she said something they might realise she was a girl and that could make things much worse. Ignore was probably best. Armsmaster should be here any moment. She'd know if he was within a block of her, though... he was really late.

    "Hey. Hey! Don't ignore me, kid, I'm talking to yo-" The guy grabbed at her. This was a mistake on his part. When he knocked her back he got a proper glimpse at her face. Immediately he stumbled backwards, turning pale as he did so, and let out a little moan of terror. His friends reacted predictably; a mixture of confusion and anger as they shouted things she didn't understand at her. With a heavy sigh she pushed her hood back and went to work.

    Two blocks away, Armsmaster watched the live feed. He'd noted the initial reaction with interest but the subsequent ones were far more fascinating. As soon as the unknown individual had pushed their hood back the remaining gang members had immediately recoiled in fear. Although the design of the helmet was clearly meant to be intimidating he knew that some other effect had to be responsible. Especially given what happened next. The unknown had reached out, touched one of the men and they'd immediately collapsed to the ground.

    This had, naturally, caused the remaining two to start running. It had seemed the staff was a ranged weapon, however, as the new cape had swung it at them one after the other. Blue light and mist had exploded off them and they'd noticeably slowed; both had collapsed to the ground from repeated swings before the cape stood up to go check on them.

    They took a pulse, then dragged the three into a pile and left them beside her. Probably not dead, then. Having made his decision he stepped back on to his bike and called in the event before heading in to confront the cape in question. The software he'd made to check the cameras along his patrol route was proving its worth; if this was a trap he'd have gone right into it without even realising until he was within visual range.

    Something interesting happened as he drew closer. The cape suddenly straightened up and checked on the three men again, then stood and seemed to be waiting expectantly for him. They knew he was coming, eh? Not just his schedule, but some sort of sensory ability. His notes now listed them as 'Blaster', 'Master', 'Striker' and 'Thinker' but, after some brief thought, he shifted all four into a subclass under 'Tinker'. It just made sense.

    They didn't attack, at least, even when he moved into the confirmed range of their weapon. Instead they flagged him down with a bit of waving. Still wary, he coasted to a halt beside them and eyed the three gang members piled up together. To their credit, the cape looked sheepish. Then they spoke and he was doubly surprised not only by their youth but also by the pitch. A young woman?

    "Um... sorry, I think those two might be a bit hypothermic... do you have some warm blankets or something? I've, uh... never used this thing before, so..." They trailed off quietly and broke his gaze. Whatever they did to the gang members didn't seem to be affecting him, at least, so that meant it was probably controllable. His response was to spray the two down with containment foam and then, as it hardened, toss a small metal device into it. The foam was a good insulator and the device was a miniaturised heater; something he often had prepared for arrests on cold nights.

    "Well, try and be more careful with untested tech in the future. You could have seriously hurt someone. Now, what are you doing here?" The young lady scratched the back of her head, or helmet, and shifted awkwardly in place. Teenager at best. Wards candidate? Maybe. More tinkers were always good, even if he couldn't quite peg their style from their aesthetic.

    "I was waiting for you. I knew this was your patrol route and I wanted to talk to you about... y'know... Cape stuff." He nodded. That more or less checked out, logically speaking. Well, it was certainly refreshing at least. Normally they were the ones who had to track down the wandering vigilantes instead of the other way around.

    "Very well. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have. Do you have a name?" That seemed to make the girl hesitate. It wasn't confusion. She was nervous. Possibly ashamed, even. Correct course of action was to display empathy. "Don't worry, it can't be worse than 'Clockblocker'. Or 'Armsmaster', for that matter." He pulled a smile at her as best as he could with his own helmet and she giggled in response. Success.

    "I guess... the best name for me would be... Pretender."

    - - -

    Pretender - Worm/Dominions 4: Thrones of Awakening
    Had to get it out of my head. May pick up into full thing later.
     
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  16. Silly Taylor, that name's already taken!

    (I don't know the crossover, but it's unique, avoids canon stations, and and the writing isn't obviously terrible.)
     
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  17. TotalAbsolutism

    TotalAbsolutism That One Guy

    Location:
    New Zealand
    Pretender God don't care if you've taken their name already.
     
    Last edited: Jan 8, 2017
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  18. Tam Lin

    Tam Lin Tam "Lizardman Liker" Lin

    >Be Laird Behaim
    >You've just done something extremely stupid.
    >You've provoked the stupid diabolist into unleashing a demon and the demon severed your connection to the Behaim family's powers.
    >The diabolist also bodily pushed you into one of those hellholes the demons come out of.
    >You wake up in a room that isn't your own.
    >For hell, it looks surprisingly normal, if a bit run down.
    >You barely have any power and the only thing keeping you from plummeting to the abyss is...
    >Huh. Apparently, you still have an identity. You're not Laird Behaim anymore, though.
    >You look at your ID card. Laird... Gladly? You're also a high school teacher now, apparently.
     
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  19. Racheakt

    Racheakt Alien OSHA Expert

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  20. I just re-read an comic called Superman: Secret Identity where a pair of parents in Kansas decide to name their son Clark after the famous comic book character. They had no idea how much ridicule their son would later face as a boy named Clark Kent in the middle of a farmland Kansas. Bullies go after him asking if he could fly, nerds come to him to ask questions about characters he has no idea about, and his family without fail always buys him Superman merchandise for his birthday. Everyone seems to look past him as a person and look only at his name, making quick assumptions from there.

    One night the kid wakes up with powers, no explanation, but honestly the constant emotional turmoil he gets over the name seems worthy of a trigger. And now I want a story of an OC baring that name, gaining those powers in a setting with superheroes, and watching the mental strain/emotional fireworks.
     
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  21. Ellf

    Ellf Hivelord

    Location:
    Ohio
    Silly idea, kinda short:

    I slammed the door to my room when I got home. Dad was still at work, doing God knows what with the DWU. He wouldn't likely be home for a while. I just couldn't believe it. Why would Emma turn on me like that? We'd been friends forever, and it just didn't make any sense. Something had to be wrong with her. I couldn't let her turn bully on me like that. It just wasn't something that was acceptable.

    I supposed... there was that option. Emma didn't even know about that friend of mine. He'd been a secret of mine since I was little, when I found that book that Aunt Lydia had left. He'd know what to do about the bullies, and he'd help me get Emma back too.

    I went over to the window and shut the curtains, and then I tied my hair back into a ponytail. No need for it to get in the way.

    "Though I know I should be wary," I said, facing my closet, arms outraised with the curtain behind me. "Still I venture someplace scary."

    Wind kicked up behind me, blowing my window open. The curtain wrapped around me like a shawl as I continued. "Ghostly hauntings, I turn loose..."

    A smirk came to my darkening lips, even as the room's temperature plummeted. I idly wondered how the Protectorate would classify this.

    Then I said those fateful three words. "Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. BEETLEJUICE!"

    Laughter echoed throughout my room, a laugh I joined in on as green and black stripes lined my walls. A face stepped out of one of them, and I heard the appropriate answer to my call. "It's showtime!"

    Silly bunny.

    Edit: Yeah, Basic idea is a Beetlejuice (Cartoon)/Worm cross, with Lydia Deetz being Annette's older half-sister. Lydia hasn't been able to visit Beetlejuice since Scion appeared, but something happened when Taylor was little and she ended up visiting the Ghost with the Most. He's not quite as attached to her as he was Lydia, but he's still pretty friendly to her.

    ...

    Now I'm kinda imagining Skitter going to the Netherworld and being able to control the worms there. Beej would love her for that.
     
    Last edited: Jan 9, 2017
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  22. Hey there, for anyone interested, there's an (unofficial) Parahumans Discord server now, with dedicated channels for worm fics and Worm itself. Might edge out this thread for casual chatting, though I'm sure this thread will always be king for posting snippets and the like.

    Discord

    Got permission from the mods to post the link, so don't worry. Please tell your friends and other Worm fans about the server if you like it. Hope to see you there!
     
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  23. Perspective

    "I don't ask you two to be friends," Miss Militia said, "but please consider the situation from our perspective. Despite her flaws, we're still responsible for Miss Hess, and-"

    "And what?" Taylor spat. "She should just go scot-free after what she's done to me?"

    "No. She would face a disciplinary action. However, consider: I was used as a living mine detector."

    "Huh?"

    "Your argument is invalid."

    "But-"

    "Living mine detector."

    Taylor fell silent.

    "Now, I believe Director Piggot wished to speak to you. Please remind her that I was used as a living mine detector and so deserve a raise."

    ***​

    AN: A drabble of exactly 100 words. An answer to all those super-sympathetic Miss Militias plaguing certain fics. Just to clarify, this is a comedic exaggeration. I do think Miss Militia would be sympathetic to Taylor's situation, just not to the point of throwing Sophia under the bus. However, it is important to remember that one of the few major characterization moments we have for her is her talking about not really getting problems that concern her colleagues and thinking them silly after surviving hell on Earth. As such, she is unlikely to be shaken by Taylor's story and would approach the situation solely with a professional perspective.
     
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  24. So... After commenting that I always expected someone to use an unconscious Glory Girl(or Alexandria) as a blunt instrument to beat someone else with I find myself imagining the Good Girl Comics version of Worm.

    If you're unaware of the Genre... good for you. It was kinda a reaction to the 90's Bad Girl aesthetic. It could still get dark as all hell, with homelessness, command rape, and so on being addressed, but at the end of the day the heroes won. And one of the Genre rules that stuck in my head was "Bases are for pillow-fights, not invasions."

    I am just tired enough that Miss Militia, Alexandria, Mouse Protector, and Fenja(because there is always a Giantess, always) in a pillow fight seems hilarious. If I still think so in the morning, I am totally writing it.
     
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