Hi! So, I got a startling number of reviews for this story, more than any other single chapter, I believe, in all of my fanfiction-writing career. So, either this story is considerably better than all my others, or this fandom is just really, really tight-knit, and people actually review fan fictions. I will accept both answers.
Therefore, I say a formal "THANK YOU EVERYBODAY!" to everyone who reviewed.
Because no matter how cliché it sounds I couldn't have done it without all of you. Really. Thank You.
Here we go.
He had never... fit in anywhere. Never. He was different to begin with. He was an aberration of nature, he had been told. Unnatural, unbelonging... he had been scorned as some sort of magical being long ago... some sort of mage or warlock. The subject of tales and legend, but was never supposed to be real.
He was able to bend matter and energy by sheer power of will. Telekinesis, they called it in later years.
He could make things to float, or propel things in the air. Moving things with his mind... He truly was an object of mythos. Legend.
And he made every effort to keep those legends alive. To continue those fables from which he was born. He was from a time when mankind was so impregnable with ideas that they created entire societies based upon his kind. To be entirely honest, he never wanted such to end. Once the legends ended, it would end him. There would be no point to him, and to his existence.
The Others didn't see it that way. They were charged to end the stories and sagas and fables and mythos, and were cursed with eternal youth until they did so.
They were meant to end the stories from which they came from. End the legends... the myths... the folklore... the fables...the fallacies... the Oddness. That was their only lot in life. To end the things from which they came. From which he came.
And in self-preservation, he set himself against them, to counter their order. Their normalcy. Their dullness.
In time, a new generation of legends were born. The Featherites. Father Time. Shapeshifter. Mr. Lightning. Halve-sie Harriet (of course, she was really just a refurbished version of the being who began Janus).
With him at their helm, there was nothing that could stop them from renewing the old tales. Not even Odd squad.
Then things changed. He began to realize what he hadn't for all those years. He began to see that people didn't care about the legends anymore. The legends were dying out. They weren't legends anymore. Everything had a perfectly rational explanation... They weren't fables, but rather- phenomena.
He found he couldn't live with that. He was a legend. He couldn't live with being a mere phenomenon.
He attempted to end his powers... to rid himself of that which he was cursed with. It worked, but only partially- he lost the majority of his telekinesis, but he still was not entirely normal. Furthermore the action caused a... minor explosion that may have been mistaken for a meteor striking the earth.
Instead of something that people watched with awe, he was now something that was captured with the intent of performing sick and inhumane tests upon him.
He stayed that way for a very long time- long enough that the days blurred together, and the nights never ended. Long enough that any name he had before was forgotten, and replaced with a number. Locked up inside a cage. Nothing to do but sit, and hope that the next set wouldn't hurt too much.
Those were dark days. A former legend... Reduced to little more than an animal. A lab rat.
Then, one day, his powers returned. Albeit not in full force, but enough for him to escape. He spent a very, very long time on the run, fleeing from those who captured him.
He created an assumed name, Titus, for he could not remember his own for the time he spent in the hands of his tormentors.
Titus attempted to return to his allies, but by that time they were long gone, now loyal to some imposter named... Todd (of all things). They would no longer follow him.
Once again, he was lost and alone. He wandered for a long time before he finally decided that the age of Legends was over.
Titus came to the Others, to Odd Squad, broken and ashamed of the death of himself. Of his true self.
He received a new identity, and a second chance at life where he would never again be captured like an animal.
He became as the Others were- fighting the Legends from which they were born, until their curse was ended, and their job was done... Ending the legends... the myths... the folklore... the fables...the fallacies... the Oddness.
Sometimes, occasionally, he would feel ashamed. As if he were betraying some ancient ordinance. He would never recover the full strength of his powers, but he would never forget. He would never forget his true self, or what he was before.
A Legend.
And THERE'S the massive departure from canon that we were looking for!
Again, I really really really want to thank you all for being willing to review, and all dat Jazz.
So... Yeah. I have a tendency towards... Macabre things... But I think that this was indirect enough that it won't warrant a T.
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