A/N: New Fairy Tail SYOC. Try as I might, I can't leave this fandom behind, and I think it's high time I returned to form with this. This SYOC is a little different in that you the OC creator will have a substantial hand in shaping the guild through the OC and plot points you send. Special thanks also to Origm2012 and MyDearWatson for helping to fill out the initial roster of the guild a bit.

15 May X820, King's University, Karlsborg, Iceberg.

A Black Hat.

It seemed odd in her hands, and as a symbol of her achievements, it seemed just as strange. It was not that the woman holding it lacked the skill. Her dissertation was deemed excellent, it was that, she was, by all appearances, a mess. At age 27, Margaret Andersson had abandoned all pretense that she cared a bit how others perceived her, and yet, here she was, desperately trying to make academia like her enough to let her teach the same stripe of ungrateful brat. Her work on the dynamics of barrier particles in seemingly naturalistic biomes, particularly in the far north of her native country was considered promising if nothing else, and yet, there was not a single university in Iceberg that took her. What few professors retired that year had their seats filled by those with better connections. It was hardly fair, but really, what was? Thaumaturgical Dynamics was a growing field, and many guilds needed mages, obviously, but the study of magic, that was something fewer seemed to care about. Margaret was snapped out of her musings by a buzzing sound from the lacrima on her desk. She dropped the hairbrush attempting to tame her voluminous auburn hair, and tripped on the way to clear the notification.

"All right, call Professor Lindqvist." She said, as the crystal sprang to life and displayed the face of a bearded man.

The man on the other side of the lacrima sighed. "I'm sorry…" he began.

The hat buckled in Margaret's grip. "No one needed a professor of Thaumaturgy?"

"No. I would suggest guild work."

"You know that's not me!" Margaret shot back, indignantly.

"Miss Andersson-"

"Don't call me that! I didn't spend 800,000 Jewels becoming, and I quote, 'the brightest thaumaturgical theorist you had ever had the pleasure of teaching,' to have you tell me I couldn't teach and research magic." Margaret fumed, deciding it best to keep the top hat on her desk, for fear of damaging it in her grasp.

"I see you're in no mood. We'll discuss further options tomorrow at the ceremony." The professor sighed, as he logged off, leaving the lacrima to turn out its light.

Margaret buried her face in her hands. "fuck me." She sighed, as she heard a knock on the door.

"Margaret, are you ready to go?" the voice called out.

"Just need another second, Isolde." Margaret responded, as she picked up the hairbrush and threw a stately red cloak over her blue dress and white heels. Isolde informed her the bar was a bit upscale, and so she dressed for the occasion. The cloak itself felt a bit weighted, and Margaret was fairly sure she remembered the implements stored therein.

Isolde walked in, her blonde hair in a braid and was dressed in a black evening gown with black flats. She always seemed elegant, as though she didn't have to try to fit in with this world. Ten years ago, Margaret would have hated her, made her out to be everything wrong with the world, nothing like a true doer such as herself. Here, so close to finishing graduate school, Margaret had softened.

"All right, I'm ready to go."

"Cool, I'll get Jin Huang."

Margaret followed Isolde out of the former's room, and encountered their other housemate, Jin Huang, a fellow from well east of Pergrande, dressed in a respectable suit.

"How's it going Jin?" Margaret asked, with a sincere smile.

"It's going fine, congrats on the PHD, I don't know how you did it in five years, it'll take at least…" Jin stopped to count, his short, slight frame swaying slightly as this was going on.

"Look, either way, Margaret getting to it that fast calls for a celebration! Let's get going," Isolde offered, shepherding the other two to the door.

The city of Karlsborg had become a familiar sight to Margaret, with its cobblestone construction, enchanted buildings giving off the needed light and heat for a capital this far north, and of course the ever-present snow. Some may have called it miserable, but Margaret didn't know much else. This was the only city she'd ever known, and now, she was on the verge of leaving. Of course, she didn't have too many options on where to go…

"Give up your magic to the great Enoch!" A voice rang out from another street corner. Sven, the same damn preacher who was always there.

"God, does that asshole ever shut up?" Margaret fumed.

"Don't let him ruin your night," Isolde said, as they passed their normal meeting spot for a more modern looking building several streets over.

"The Elven Heart," Jin read off of the sign. "Seems a little violent…"

"I think it's nice," said Margaret, although her simultaneous anxiety and frustration had only been building in the same moment. Maybe it would work out; after all, Isolde's senses were rarely wrong.

The trio entered into a stately ballroom, and began scoping out the room. As it turned out, the venue was divided into a few enclosures, within a dance floor. High society types seemed to be mixing, along with one trio of individuals who seemed thoroughly out of place in their ballroom attire. Margaret eyed them suspiciously.

"Now I know you're dealing with a lot, but here's hoping the alcohol will take the edge off…" Isolde said, with a smile.

"Easy for you to say, you've already gotten a cushy desk job on the new Magic Council." Sighed Margaret.

Isolde was taken aback, but bounced back. "How about a round of champagne?"

It wasn't long before Margaret had torn through the entire bottle that Isolde had ordered, her face flush and her disposition still angry.

"And tell me why you two get to go on and do great things and I'm stuck even with the same PHD!" Margaret shouted, much more accusatory than either housemate than either had come to expect from the normally introverted and demure woman.

At this point, the collective of five or so misfits began stirring as well.

"Heh, check out the balls on that girl." Laughed the leader. He was a tall man with unkempt blue hair, a scar across the right side of his mouth, and a slender frame.

"No tolerance at all." Agreed a woman whose eyes seemed to change type and color at random. Both the pupils and irises shifted, with no consistency at all. Her black hair and average height were much more normal, and yet it was clear that her magic was not typical.

"Well, you know, it's a perfect distraction. " Said the third, an uncommonly tall man with glasses and long nutbrown hair.

"Right, time to rejoin the others." The first said with a half-smile, as he and the other two left the dance floor, headed for a back door.

"Fuck it, imma go for a smoke!" Margaret said, as she noticed the three steal away through the back door.

"I thought you were quitting." Isolde said, with a slight disapproval.

"Nah I'm in a nic fit…" She muttered, as she walked out the same door.

"Jin, make sure she gets back in here safely, it's too cold for her to be out there alone." Isolde instructed, as she began to scan all of the doors.

"Sure thing." Jin said.

The cold wasn't something that much bothered Margaret, as she leaned herself up against the wall of the building, and took out a wooden pipe. She drew out a tobacco pouch and lit it with a match.

"Well hello there." The leader of the strange trio said, a fake-looking grin on his face. "What's a pretty lady like you doing out on the streets of Karlsborg on a night like this?"

"Smoking." Margaret said, curtly.

"I can see that!" the figure said. "Now here's the deal. We're about to do something of a business transaction, and if we're successful, I'll buy you anything you like… Then we'll do something a bit nasty.

"Buzz off. You're not exactly my type." Margaret muttered, as she pulled on her pipe and blew the smoke into his face.

"You've got some nerve refusing my hospitality!" The man shouted, as he activated a light blue magic circle and plunged it into the ground.

"Kristian, you can find another girl." The black haired woman said. "We have a job to do. In the same moment, a contingent of eight others emerged.

"Master Kristian!" The lead member shouted.

"All right, it looks like we're going to have a problem." Margaret sighed, as she extinguished her pipe and placed it back in her cloak.

"Nice try!" Kristian laughed, as he launched his spell forward, it was a beast made of pure snow, something like a lion. The hit was direct, and Margaret seemed to be buried under a deluge of white powder.

"Are you satisfied now?" Nutbrown hair asked.

In the same moment, the snow itself rumbled, and Margaret emerged, dark blue fire on her hands.

"What the hell is going on out back. Margaret?" Isolde wondered aloud, as she made a break for the door, catching Jin on the way. The two burst out onto the alleyway and were soon joined by many of the other patrons. The scene in front of them was strange. Margaret took a fighting stance, and 11 dark mages stood opposite her.

"I've never seen Margaret fight." Jin admitted to his slightly older compatriot.

"To be honest, I'm more worried about the dark mages…" answered Isolde.

Kristian laughed. "You decided to learn blue fire magic in Iceberg!?" He managed before clutching his side.

"Try again. Now let me ask you something." Margaret responded.

"Shoot," Kristian Managed through laughter.

"Have you ever come across the idea of Planar Thaumaturgy?"

"No…" Kristian muttered, his laughter gone.

"Well you see, the barrier particles that naturally occur in the air are where almost all mages gain their ethernano reserves. Your body processes the particles, and gives you your magical reserves. As such, the concentration of particles, quality of particles, and the body's unique magical efficiency normally determine how powerful a caster mage will be. The thing is, that isn't the only source." Margaret explained, more indignant by the word.

"Shut up with the science lesson!" Kristian shouted, nervously, as the incident had attracted a crowd.

"As I was saying," Margaret said, her own voice seemingly competing for dominance. "There are also planes, separate from ours by the slightest mote, where barrier particles also exist. In recent years, with their discovery, experimental magic has been developed by the world's leading thaumaturgical scientists to exploit these planar particles, often using them in the user's own magic. I have developed one such style to this very end. The plane known as Tophet. This is fire magic enhanced with Tophet planar energy!" With that, Margaret sent a deluge of flames forward, enveloping the party in front of her. After the flames cleared, only the original three were left standing.

"Our turn! Annelise, you're up!" Kristian declared, as the woman began focusing her gaze intently on Margaret, to no avail.

"No use, her control over ethernano is too good." The brunette sighed, as she closed her eyes.

At this point, Kristian's annoyance changed to fear, borne out in his eyes. "What are you?" He demanded.

"No point in telling you." Margaret muttered, as she raised her right arm and summoned a small collective of constructs that resembled jellyfish, swimming aimlessly through the air. The jellies converged on the remaining three, all of whom collapsed instantly.

At this point, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause as Margaret's buzz from adrenaline and nicotine faded, and she slumped against the wall, where Isolde and Jin collected her.

"You've had enough living for one night. Let's get you home." Isolde insisted.

Margaret awoke to her older housemate's gentle nudging. While she didn't remember much of the previous night, she felt a throbbing in her head. How drunk had she gotten. "Isolde?" She muttered, as she sat up.

"You'd be amazed by what just happened," Isolde said, as she slid a crate on the other side of Margaret's bed towards her.

"What's this?" Margaret asked, some of her faculties restored, as she rummaged through the papers in the box.

"A messenger dropped them off this morning. These are all offers from guilds."

"Guilds? This morning?" Margaret sighed, as she looked through the letters.

"Dear Ms. Andersson,

We are excited to extend an offer of membership in the ranks of Fairy Tail, the most renowned guild in all Fiore. While our process for ascension to S-Class status precludes such a promotion for a new member, your abilities should qualify you for immediate status as a mage, and qualification for high level, lucrative jobs. Travel to Magnolia in Fiore if you are interested.

Sincerely,

Erza Heartfilia-Scarlet, 9th Master, Fairy Tail guild.

Margaret tossed the letter aside. "What else is in here…" She muttered aloud, as she dug through the contents of the box. A quick search later revealed perhaps the most odd offer of them all.

"Ms. Andersson,

We understand that our guild may be small and lack reputation, and that with your considerable feat you must have many standing offers. However, we feel compelled to extend yet another offer to you, this one for the position of guild master. Phoenix Gear's second master has died in recent days, and consequently, we are seeking a new master. Should you choose to accept this offer, come to the town of Estrecho, near the Ishvan Autonomous Region in Fiore

With kind regards,

Grace Montague, Ace, Phoenix Gear Guild."

"I doubt you'd take that one. That guild's never had more than ten members, dead last in all of Fiore," Isolde said. "By the way, you missed the graduation ceremony, but I got your doctorate for you," Margaret was handed a leatherbound copy.

"What did I even do last night? I thought I just fought a few street punks," muttered Margaret.

"If you call the Fallen Angel dark guild 'street punks,' Isolde responded.

"I did what?"

"You singlehandedly defeated the master of a dark guild that legal guilds had been trying to bring down for three years, that's why you got all of these letters," Isolde explained.

"That's great, I'm going to get some more sleep," Margaret sighed, as she rolled back over.

"Don't forget, the lease ends in four days, so make you plans quickly." Isolde said, as she left the room.

"You know, some would consider skipping your own graduation ceremony and calling your mentor on Lacrima after midnight to be something of a transgression." Professor Lindqvist said.

"Well you're awake." Said Margaret.

"Fair enough." He sighed. "What do you hope to discuss.

"Well, I gave it some more thought, and I might just want to take a guild job," Margaret explained.

"Excellent, and I understand you received several offers from guilds across Ishgar after last night," Lindqvist said, with a smile.

"Yes, and I'm thinking about it. This one guild I hadn't heard of, Phoenix Gear, wants me as a guild master," Explained Margaret "That's the one sticking in my head."

"It could be said that a guild master's role is not unlike that of a professor. It would be your responsibility to find and develop thaumaturgical talent, and to encourage powerful mages, the main difference is it's practice as opposed to theory, and it typically pays quite a bit better," her mentor explained. "Of course, Phoenix Gear is a struggling guild in this day and age. It will naturally take more effort and time than most can give to make it a success…"

"Well when have you heard of me refusing a challenge?" Margaret asked with a laugh.

"Very well."

Three days later.

"Damn, you cleaned the entire apartment?" Isolde asked, inspecting the kitchen counter.

"What, don't tell me you forgot why you'd ever put up with me!" Joked Margaret.

"I know I can depend on you, even when you're drunk and haven't smoked in a few days," Isolde responded, more sincerely.

"All right, I'll write and call both of you," Margaret said, fighting her tears, hoping not to show herself vulnerable.

"See you around!" She declared, as she made her way to the train station for the first time in her life, and boarded for Estrecho in Fiore.

"Hello!" Margaret was greeted immediately by two things, the first being an oppressive heat for which her attire of a blue and white jacket, buttoned shut, jeans, and a red cloak was thoroughly inappropriate, the second was a white Exceed with patches of black fur.

"Are you the contact?" Margaret asked.

"Yes indeed, I am Ptarmigan, Grace and I traveled some distance before we made our way to Phoenix Gear," the exceed said in a perfect Svenish accent, before taking a subtle bow. The voice reminded her of Isolde.

"Excellent, and you wanted to show me the guild hall?" Margaret asked, as she noted the comparatively sparse nature of Estrecho's train station.

"Certainly, follow me," Ptarmigan instructed, leaving the station with Margaret in tow.

The streets of Estrecho were dilapidated, and the occasional SE Plug vehicle was frequently tossed across the common streets thanks to the potholes. Businesses also lined the streets, yet almost all were boarded up. A smog covered the area, and based on Margaret's own estimation, the last of these things was itself magical in nature. The area seemed to be suffering, and that there was a legal guild there at all was more surprising than anything else.

"We're here," said Ptarmigan, as they rounded a corner to a crumbling but respectable looking guild hall, which featured multiple spires, a courtyard before the circular building, and the guild's symbol in a red-orange shade on a torn banner over the door. "It's not much, but it's home."

Margaret's doubts had begun to well up in her throat, and yet in the same moment, she found herself excited. If anything, the guild felt something like her. Humble roots, to be sure, but damn it if she couldn't make something great out of it, just as she had herself.

As the young woman had few possessions herself, Margaret's office was fairly sparse, only a few statues and models on her desk complemented the small, circular room away from the main hall.

"What are you doing, master Margaret?" Ptarmigan asked.

"I recall you said that we only have six active mages, and they're all away on jobs right now," Margaret responded in kind. "I got to thinking, we ought to grow our base. There's no way this guild will be a success without more members," Margaret motioned to a stack of papers. "Thankfully, I can make copies with magic. You're an exceed, you can fly. Go send these out across Fiore, maybe even further."

"Sure thing!" Said Ptarmigan, as he read out the letter that had been slid over to him.

"To whom it may concern:

The Phoenix Gear guild is growing. While we may have little now, it will be through your help that we gain fame and renown. If you hope to prove yourself, to show the doubters wrong, and to make your mark as a guild mage, we want to hear from you. To all those mages interested in joining Phoenix Gear, come to Estrecho, on the border of Fiore and the Isvan Autonomous Region, and inquire within our hall. I look forward to our meeting.

With great optimism,

Margaret Andersson, 3rd Master, Phoenix Gear Guild.

A/N: Okay! Now it's your turn, send out an OC using the following form, and be sure to follow the few extra rules as well.

Rule 1: Please PM me. In the interest of keeping the review section easier to read, I will not be accepting OCs submitted through reviews. Although it is not precisely a requirement, please give me the name of the OC you are submitting in the subject line, so that I can find relevant information about characters and concepts more easily.

Rule 2: Your OC cannot be the child of canon characters. There may be a connection to canon cast members in your characters' backstory, but the canon cast will only appear if and when I have a good reason to add them to an arc. For further background, most of the canon cast is between 40 and 50 at the start of this story. Wendy, at 44, is the youngest member of the canon cast.

Rule 3: Your character's magic must be somewhat balanced. I won't take a character whose magic can't be countered in some way.

All right, here's a copy of the bio, and if you'd rather copy/paste, peep the version on my profile. I hope to hear from friends and fans old and new. Until next time!

(Please delete the stuff in the parentheses, it makes the bio easier to read if you do).

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