Star Spangled Hero
(Or…)
A Mad Mouse's Mindless Self Indulgence
(Or…)
An attempt to break from writer's block by writing a shitty self insert using the same damn tabletop system as that other fanfiction I'm writing.
Yes this is a long ass title.
Chapter 0: The Obligatory CharGen Sequence.
It was an odd experience to say the least.
One minute you're at your computer trying to draw blood from a stone, writing a crossover fanfiction to get back into writing; An obscure tabletop rpg about demigods in the modern world spliced into a Canuckistani edgelord's grimderp misery porn that you like purely because the main character needs a damn hug and the idea of the setting is at least interesting. That and writing it purely for some form of catharsis and a sense of misguided triumph over the current zeitgeist of western superhero fiction and your burning hatred of Garth Ennis (at least when he's doing anything but Punisher and military fiction, fuck The Boys and fuck Crossed!).
Next minute you're sitting in a far comfier chair than the half decade old office chair gifted to you by your well meaning but Karen like (and quite possibly insane) mother in a never-ending fluorescent white hallway broken up by doors and a single solitary work desk piled with papers and a sign that says "out to lunch".
Now you'd probably think to yourself "Huh, isn't that the hallway from Drifters?"
You would be correct.
And to put the question of the tense of this clusterfuck out of the way, yes I most certainly came to that conclusion.
Ok…
Maybe not immediately.
"Uh…" said in the most panicked squeek befitting my online moniker of choice was not only the first thing to come out of my mouth after the blink-blink-MY ROOM IS GONE route of teleportation happened.
I'm gonna be completely honest, wearing nothing but some plush pajama bottoms, I probably looked like a dumbass. Not that I had much confidence in myself to begin with.
Yeah I'm not gonna lie to the people probably reading this, I am not a badass in any sense. Just another biracial Mexican dude in good old Commiefornia. No special skills, no real talents, and not a whole lot to my name. At least I was out of my parents house and had an honest, if fucking miserable, 40 hour a week gig at a gas station.
Seeing as how I was more than likely get Murasaki'd (can't call it ROBbed if I know the omnipotent bastard's name and face, now can I?) I honestly was scared shitless.
I reiterate; one minute I'm trying my damnedest to write the newest chapter of the fanfic I started a year and some change ago and then I'm in a hallway with doors and the desk. About to meet the bespectacled guy that tosses random psychos from history into a fantasy world to basically win a cosmic lover's quarrel. Which did not bode well for me whatsoever.
So I just sat there, kinda trying not to scream in terror or let out my frantic panic attack adjusted breathing, and also kind a failing at it.
I'm pretty sure I was almost hyperventilating too.
Eventually my aimless panic found something to be aimed at. suddenly appearing after I opened my eyes from a blink. Sitting on the front end of the desk, her legs crossed and dangling from her perch; the most drop dead gorgeous woman I had ever laid eyes on a brunette, with perfect proportions, her hair done up in an immaculate and smart bun, wearing an American flag gown, her eyes glowing red, white, and blue, and her feet bare…
I felt my pulse race, out of fear more than anything, normally I'd be admiring such a fine specimen of female beauty before me, but the panic from being somewhere else so suddenly was still gripping me.
We sat there in silence for god knows how long. She was looking at me with a bemused smile on her face, her strangely colored eyes looking over me in appraisal.
I was, once again, still fucking panicking. Eventually I managed to calm down and get my damn heart to stop trying to beat out of my chest.
I sat up straighter, took another deep breath, and spoke.
"You're not Murasaki." I said, my voice somewhat shaky. "You're not E.A.S.Y. either."
The woman giggled, a lovely soprano tone and said "Nope." making sure to pop the p.
"So I'm not going to be tossed up against Jesus of Nazareth and his monster hordes?"
Oh yeah, for those of you who don't know; The Black King in Drifters is heavily implied to be the friggin' Nazarene. The omakes state that it will never be revealed for fear of backlash, but hey the implications strong in this one.
"Again. Nope." the woman said, her voice filled with amusement
I let out a sigh of relief and counted my lucky stars I wasn't about to get tossed into that situation, as cool as meeting Nobunaga Oda would be.
"Alright. If I may ask, what is your name miss?" I said, dreading the answer.
"I am the greatest nation on Earth, the land of the free, home of the brave." She smiled widely, showing some pretty damn shiny chompers "I am Columbia. The personification of The United States of America."
In hindsight the getup and her eyes should have gave it away, but in my defense I wasn't entirely sure if she wasn't some kind of "be not afraid" or "form you're more comfortable with" kinda deal.
"Huh." I said, more out of surprise than anything. "I honestly didn't expect that to be the answer."
I leaned back into the comfy chair, suddenly finding that little fragment of spine left.
"So how's the past twenty years been treating you?"
You know it's probably not a good idea to ask a smart-ass question like that to the anthropomorphic representation of your country, but hey I never said I was smart. Just smart-ass.
She just chuckled warmly "There it is. Glad to see you're loosening up. To answer your question; aside from me shaking my head at our people, I get the feeling that this is merely the tail end of the age old cycle of times and men."
"Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. Weak men create hard times." I recited, receiving a nod from Columbia
"Glad to know that stuck with you." She said. "To answer the next question that's probably in your noggin, no you didn't die. Just took you from a timeline where you would have in the morning."
Seeing as how I live near an alley where the local homeless and tweakers chill that ain't all that surprising. Another symptom of the rot of my home state.
"Well…" I started, trailing off trying to figure out a way to process that "…thank you for that."
"Don't mention it. Though I should mention; I didn't whisk you away from your certain doom for nothing." Columbia grabbed a file folder off the top of one of the stacks of papers. "I'm in need of a champion, a Scion like in that game you like, and out of the countless Americans across the many versions of our great nation I have chosen you."
Naturally there was only really one good response to that;
"OK, but why though? If you know me, which I'm guessing by that folder you do, you would know that I am the least qualified person to represent you or the US" My voice going up an octave out of panic and confusion. "There's three branches of the military that are filled with men and women far more qualified,"
Columbia shook her head, clicking her tongue, chastising me.
"None of your self-deprecation, no self-doubt, no angst." She said sternly "No champion of mine should ever feel ashamed of themselves. You're an American, you're number one."
There was an easy smart ass remark there but I didn't have it in me to say it.
Columbia leaned forward, uncrossing her legs and handed me the folder.
"Like I said; of all the countless Americans I looked at, I chose you. Don't sweat the why's, OK?"
I looked up her face, she was giving me a reassuring smile.
With a heavy sigh I took the folder and opened it up. Skimming through the documents, apparently I was going to be assigned to a world to give it a good old American style ass kicking. Bold assignment to a guy who'd lost every fist fight he'd been in.
"I take it I don't get a say in the world?" I asked with a faint hope that I was wrong, Girls Und Panzer seemed nice and comfy.
"Negative." Columbia replied
"So where would I be going?"
"Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, Earth-Bet."
I nearly dropped the files all over the white floor.
"You're sending me into Worm?"
"Yup. What better shithole to get dragged kicking and screaming back into the light?"
I chuckled sardonically.
"I hope you plan on finding a back up, because that world is a death trap and it's destined to get its shit rocked and the 'happy ending' that the Canuckistani fuckhead thought of was leaving the world in such a shit state that it would have been a mercy to let Zion wipe it out. Or so I've heard, not like I actually read misery porn."
Columbia cocked an eyebrow, doing her best the Rock impression
"Do you honestly believe that I would send you into a death world without some improvements?"
"Uh. Yeah."
Ask anybody that knows me IRL and they would tell you that I am a blunt son of a bitch.
Columbia feigned hurt and looked away dramatically.
"I'm shocked!" She said with her hand up to her forehead like she was fainting in some old movie before getting semi serious and craning her head down to meet me at eye level. "My little mouse, I'm going to make you into a majestic fucking eagle of awesomeness and star spangled glory."
She hopped down and poked right where my heart was
"I'm going to bless you, granting you the powers of a demigod!"
I was in utter disbelief.
"Again. Why?"
Columbia sighed in exasperation "I said not to worry about that, dude."
She rose to full height and put her hand on my head
"This might tickle." was all she said before I felt lightning shotgun through my brain and into my veins.
I imagine this is what the create-a-character in video games feels when a player hits the random button.
"And with that, you are no longer a mere mortal. Congratulations!"
With all the grace and pose befitting what was supposed to be my new station in life I simply said "Bwha?"
I looked down at myself. I wasn't pudgy anymore, I wasn't as hairy, and my hair was actually the length I was working towards. That was the first thing I really noticed. That and I think I grew about half a foot taller. Impressive when you're 26.
Columbia drew my attention with a snap of her fingers, pointing to a standing mirror that had appeared in a shower of stars and stripes.
"Check out the goods!"
With hesitation and a far lighter step then what I was used to, I made my way to the mirror.
My hair was still black, but now my hair was long enough to end right at my neck. My skin tone was now a uniform light brown like a proper Latino should have. My pudge was gone and I looked like I actually hit the gym on the regular, like I wanted to before The Coof hit and my idiot Governor shut down the entire state. My face was much easier to look at; dark circles were gone, my jaw was stronger, teeth straighter, overbite gone, and my face was now sharper than it was round. The surgery scars I had picked up over the years were gone, the scars from the way too many mosquito bites that were scratched at as I slept were as well, and most importantly; my hands. My fucking hands weren't covered in fucking eczema induced calluses anymore. Of all the things that I was excited about; the future of no more insanely painful itching sensations on my hands was what got me to smile the most.
I looked gorgeous. Like how the ideal me would look from my high school dreams of post grad life.
"This is gonna sound weird, Miss Columbia. But I still feel like the same jackass I was before this."
Columbia took out a roll of tape measure and was taking my measurements as she responded
"Well yeah, I only changed the outside. That noggin of yours is still the same minus a little bit of extra information you may find useful…"
I opened my mouth to say something but she shushed me before I could.
"Luckily there are some things that come a part of this whole demigod thing that will help with that confidence issue of yours."
She spun me around and sat me back down in the chair.
"First off; Callings and Knacks. I'm gonna let you decide on those, this is your Legend after all."
"Yeah that sounds great." I said with utmost gratitude. "So I'm picking that stuff or are you?"
Columbia handed me a clipboard with a form and a pen to fill it out.
"Your Legend, your decision." She said "Also I should let you know I've de-aged you a full decade. Congrats! You are 16 again."
I was getting the feeling that Columbia was starting to pull this shit out of her ass, but I didn't have the heart to say that to her face. At least not now anyway. I just focused on filling out the form.
Callings, the supernatural nudging that pushes Scions, heroic or villainous, to their role in their own Legend.
Creators; the shapers of the world as well as smiths, the ones with the power to not only create great structures but life itself. Guardians; the shield against all foes, always there to defend people, places, or even ideals. Healers; the quintessential white mages. Hunters; weather man or beast, they would always find their prey. Judges, the ones who write and enforce their law on those would break them. Leaders, statesmen and generals who, well, lead. Lovers, the ones who nurture the four loves and who have power over relationships. Liminals, the wanderers of the world who know all the shortcuts. Sages, the keenest of minds who seek out knowledge and occasionally reveal it to others. Tricksters, the ones who shake up society by being good ol wascally wabbits. Warriors, the vast majority of demigods of mythology and the ones who get shit done through good old fashioned violence..
I already knew the answer to this; Guardian, Trickster, Warrior. Guardian to protect the innocent and the ideals I was about to represent. Trickster, mostly for fun. Warrior for all the battles I would be getting in to.
Then it was on to Purviews. Divine power over Artistry, Beasts, Beauty, Chaos, Darkness, Death, Deception, Earth, Fertility, Fire, Forge, Fortune, Frost, Health, Journeys, Moon, Order, Passion, Prosperity, Sky, Stars, Sun, War, Water, and the Wilds. Not including the three Epics my new patron just gave to me; Epic Dexterity, Strength, and Stamina.
All those options and I only get five. I thought long and hard about it, remembering the Scion character I made for a friend's campaign. A Scion of Columbia not unlike what I was now. A boy chosen after facing a great monster and getting lucky. The perfect underdog story, a hero that was chosen, rather than bornm to face evil. I was kind of building him now wasn't I? It certainly narrowed things down.
I made my choices; Health, Forge, Fortune, Journeys, War and tried to handle the clipboard back to Columbia.
"Uh-uh-uh." She said before adjusting the clip, revealing the top lines of the form's page. "I believe you've yet to fill out your name."
My name. I was named after my father, who was named for his grandfather. I was a Jr.
My name wouldn't do for this. If I was going to be a demigod, a hero. I'd have to leave it behind, just like my old life.
"Is it OK if I take a new one?" I asked my patron.
She nods, a comforting smile on her face.
I jotted it down on the line, my penmanship legible if atrocious.
"John Brewer, huh?"
I smiled sadly. Feeling my old name slip from memory.
"Good old American sounding name don't 'cha think?"
Columbia leaned down and gave me a tight hug.
"It's a good name kiddo."
I returned the hug and gave her my thanks. For the opportunity and the hug. Mostly the hug.
She broke our embrace and looked me in the eye.
"Enough mushy stuff. Your arrival will be heralded by some good old fashioned fireworks" Her eyes began to shine with our nation's colors. "When you make it down to earth, some associates of mine will be there to show you the ropes. I won't be sending you in to learn as you go along, once you have completed your training your quest will begin…"
The hallway, the desk, and all but one of the doors flew away. The neverending white gave way to the black of space and its countless stars. I felt a gust of wind whip past the both of us, yet neither of us were being moved by it.
"May Fate be kind to you, John Brewer." Columbia said grasping my hands tightly, the wind now starting to take me. "Make me, and these United States, proud."
I steeled myself and said with newfound purpose and drive, the stuff I searched for so damn long in my old life, "I will."
Columbia let go of my hands and I fell, my body twisting to face where;
I was falling to earth along with a red, white, and blue meteor shower.
I shouted into the blackness of space, a wild and joyful whoop that seemed to echo out into the black.