The Power of Fiction

Hold your breath.

Make a wish.

Count to three...

Daydreaming

"Helmsman, bring us about hard to port!" snapped Captain Phillips, holding his hand ready to signal the Weapons Officer.

They leaned to the right from the inertia as the great vessel veered off to turn on her pursuers.

"Major Kotara! Ready weapons systems and stand by!"

"What?" the Weapons Officer looked startled.

"You heard me Major! This is a combat situation. Ready the weapons systems, now!"

"Weapons?! Oh god, not again..." moaned the Major, hiding her face in her hands.

"Major Kotara, do you or do you not intend to follow my order to ready the weapons to be fired?"

"Craig, keep it down or you'll get us BOTH fired!"

"Excuse me?! Helsman, please relieve the Major and ready the weapons before it is too late!"

"Craig!" hissed the Major, glancing over her shoulder at the turbo-elevator nervously. Her eyes widened. "Aw, crap. Now you've done it."

Captain Phillips was no longer paying attention to the Major, and was relishing the trap he had sprung upon the nefarious Alien Horde that was pursuing them. As he saw the alien vessel enter the crosshairs, he leaped from his seat. "ALL BATTERIES, FIRE!"

"Why do I put up with this?" asked Phoebe Kotara plaintively as she sank deeper into her seat, trying to hide from the attention suddenly focused on her friend, Craig Phillips. She rolled her eyes and glanced sideways at him. He was just now realizing that he had just ordered all the customers of the Cheap Tome bookstore to open fire. It was going to be another one of those days...

Come with me
and you'll be
in a world of pure imagination.

Take a look
and you'll see ... into your imagination.

We'll begin
with a spin
traveling
in the world of my creation

What we'll see will defy ... explanation.

Fired

Craig stood outside the door of his ex-employer, waiting. Phoebe shortly emerged and did not even glance at him. He fell into step behind her.

"Just don't even speak to me."

"Sorry."

"I said don't speak to me."

"Sorry."

"Sigh."

Conversation faltered at this point, but resumed a few moments later when Phoebe whirled around and began pacing.

"The nerve of that guy, firing me too. It's not like I did anything wrong."

"You're right."

She turned on him and narrowed her eyes. "This is all your fault, you know."

"Yes, you're right. Sorry." It wasn't as if Craig wanted to get in trouble, but he was notoriously prone to daydreaming. The tedious routine of day-to-day life simply failed to engage his attention, and he drifted into one of a thousand more interesting worlds at the first opportunity. Besides, at least she was paying attention to him now.

"Oh, whatever. I hated that job anyway. Let's get some lunch ..."

"OK."

"... while you still have money to buy it with. You owe me."

"OK."

Craig continued following along with his friend. She was upset with him, as she always was when this sort of thing happened, but it never lasted long. They *were* friends ... and if he had his wish, they'd be more than friends. If only ... but no.

He loved Phoebe, and she loved Rebecca, and ... and it was best not to dwell on that.

"Absolutely not!" announces the Odyssey imperiously. "I refuse to work with that man. Did you see the mess he made translating poor Iliad? I do believe the boy has taken to drink since..."
-- Stacy Stroud, musing on the sorts of things the Power of Fiction handles on a daily basis

Craig Phillips, Marquis of Fiction **

Attributes

Aspect 1 (Metahuman)
Domain 4 (Marquis **)
Realm 2 (Realm's Heart)
Spirit 1 (Hearthfire)

Gifts

Immutable

Restrictions

Respectful - Cannot kill a talented creator of fiction (author, filmmaker, etc.)
Light Touch - Phoebe
Visible

Affiliation: Personal Code

Imagination is the highest principle
Children are the chosen people of Fiction
Give in kind with a gift received

Bonds

Phoebe [8]
Fiction [6]
Children [4]
Rebecca [2]

Anchors: Phoebe, Rebecca

If you want to view Paradise,
simply look around and view it.
Anything you want to ... do it.

Want to change the world?
There's nothing to it.

The Estate of Fiction

What is covered under the Estate of Fiction?

Stories, and all of their contents (setting, plot, theme, characters, etc.)
Myths, Legends (Urban and otherwise), Fantasies, Daydreams, etc.
Propaganda and other exaggerations
Lies
Hallucinations, Illusions, Holograms, and the like
"Seeing a serial killer in your room that's really just a pile of clothes on a chair" and other misapprehensions.

Design

The design of Fiction is a blossom of Acanthus, crossed with one of Angelica. The leaves of the plants are arranged in whorled patterns in groups of three. This is set upon a white and silver abstract background within a black circle.

Craig's Miracle Cost Chart

MP Cost	Type	Aspect Miracle Levels	Domain MLs	Realm MLs
0 MP	Simple	0-1	0-4	0-2
1 MP	Normal	2	5	3
2 MP	Hard	3	6	4
4 MP	Deep	4-5	7-8	5-6
8 MP	Word of Command	6+	9+	7+

Example Miracles

Level 0 - Estate driven Divinations of Fiction (free)
Level 1 - Ghost Miracles of Fiction (free)

Really weak illusions (Special Effects)
Make someone that is telling the truth sound like they are pulling it out of thin air, or vice versa
make a story that is basically a good way to waste a few hours but has no lasting impact

Level 2 - Lesser Divinations of Fiction (free)

Detect lies, misapprehensions, actual illusions, urban legends, etc. Be able to tell a hologram from the real thing.
Be able to find some copy of a particular work of fiction, if one exists, but not necessarily a particular copy of a work of fiction.
Know how a story ends (or how it began)

Level 3 - Lesser Preservation of Fiction (free)

Keep a lie or misperception from being exposed/corrected.
Keep an urban legend in circulation.
Helping a tale to pass around *intact* (not forever; that'd be major), without the usual gossip-game changes. This includes keeping a story legible/understandable in spite of the poor condition of the medium. It does not cover preserving the medium itself, per se.

Level 4 - Lesser Creation of Fiction (free)

Make local illusions.
Put a lie in someone's head.
Spread an urban legend.
Inspire someone with an idea for a story.
Add qualities (pathos, humor, etc.) to an existing story.
Manifest illusions (especially fictional characters or environments)

Level 5 (1 DMP)

Lesser Destruction of Fiction

Disabuse someone of a lie or misperception.
Dispel an illusion.
Remove the believability of a lie.
Remove qualities from a story.
Remove a story idea from someone's head.
Wipe a particular fictional entity from one person's (or a few people's) memories.
Remove someone's ability to deceive.
Erase the pages of a work of fiction
Remove the exaggerations and other inaccuracies from a work of non-fiction.

Major Divination of Fiction

Learn about anything that has happened in the presence of fiction
Learn about anything that has happened as the result of a lie.

Level 6 (2 DMPs)

Lesser Change of Fiction

Alter a lie, image, or false perception.
Change the details or effects of a written, filmed, or oral story.
Put the text of one book inside the cover of another?
Bring fictional characters to Life

Major Preservation of Fiction

Cause a story to be remembered forever.
Cause a lie or misperception to be maintained forever.
Create a permanent illusion.

Level 7 - Major Creation of Fiction (4 DMPs)

Create an entirely new story, legend, or lie, complete with past history of transmission, in the mind of every appropriate person.
Create illusory environments that seem entirely real to those caught up in them.
Make someone's life into a lie

Level 8 - Major Destruction of Fiction (4 DMPs)

Wipe out all memory of a story, legend, or lie.
Make it so that a particular lie will never be believed again.
Remove the ability to lie (or the inspiration to tell stories) from an entire population.
Gift a person with the ability to see through all deceptions, for life.

Level 9 - Major Changes of Fiction (8 DMPs)

Bring the cast of an entire series of books to life; transform Australia into the other Oz indefinitely.
Transform a story into truth for a fan (they become part of the story)
Anything else that relates.

Backgrounds

Craig Phillips and Phoebe Kotara grew up in the same neighborhood, and were best friends for years. When they were children, everyone assumed that they were inseparable, and various people were heard to jokingly comment that they would end up marrying. They did go out a few times, but this was always as nothing more than friends. This was not as Craig would have preferred it ... over the years, he had gradually fallen in love with his friend (possibly because she was the only girl he knew that would tolerate his quirks). But every time he summoned up the courage to actually tell her how he felt, he got this weird vibe that caused him to shy away. It was nothing he could pin down ... possibly he was just scared of telling her, after all.

College was where it went wrong. They had decided to attend the same school ... which turned out to produce lots of anguish as he kept approaching and backing off. During summer after their sophomore year, he finally decided to clear this up once and for all. It was her birthday, and Phoebe had been scarce for at least a week before. He decided to sneak into her apartment (he had a key) while she was at class and drop off a romantic gift (flowers, candy, etc.) and a note that said "DeTillio's 8:00" (this was a resturaunt that he had arranged a candlelight dinner at).

As it turned out, Phoebe was not in class. Nor was she in her clothes. However, she was in a very compromising position ... with another girl (a fellow classmate named Rebecca). Craig's mind reeled ... and he suddenly recalled all of the little clues that he had previously missed that something was going on here: the sideways glances, Rebecca's hand placed on Phoebe's arm seemingly innocently, the daydream of Rebecca wearing a Sailor Neptune uniform.

He simply deposited his gifts and walked out, totally numb from shock. His mind wandered as he did so, and he envisioned himself navigating a dense, timeless forest. Days or years later, he emerged into a vast desert and began a lonely trek across it before he came to another forest. Or was it the same forest? He was weakening from thirst and hunger, but he thought he spotted something in a clearing ahead. He made for it.

When at last he arrived, the object turned out to be an ordinary park bench. And sitting upon it, illumined by a beam of purest sunlight, was a beautiful princess. She regarded him solemnly, with just a touch of sadness.

"Greetings, fair lady. How art thee?"

"I suppose you want an explanation."

"Explanation, Lady? Thou owest me no explanation."

Princess Phoebe sighed. "I love her."

"Oh." Craig said, sitting down on the bench next to her.

"Well?"

"Well what, Phoebe?"

"Aren't you going to get upset? Yell at me? Try and convince me that I'm wrong?"

"No."

"No?" she said, startled. Then she seemed to grow annoyed at something Craig could not fathom. "But I thought ... Dammit, you ... Oh, just nevermind."

"..."

"So." she offered.

"So." he echoed.

"Do we have a problem?" Hesitantly.

"No."

"OK. I'm ... glad. For that. I'm also glad that someone else knows. That it was you. It's a relief." She choked up.

Craig put his arm around her shoulder, and felt the tension drain out of her. They sat like that for some time. Craig drifted into imagining that they were dating, and this was just a comfortable moment. It was better than the truth, anyway.

That was several months ago. Craig and Phoebe remained friends, and he pretended to give up on loving her. Toward Rebecca, Craig was civil ... but just that much. His opinion of the girl depended largely upon how flagrantly she reminded him that she was sleeping with Phoebe. He hated her for stealing Phoebe ... and liked her for treating Phoebe well ... but mostly he simply tolerated her for the sake of being near Phoebe. Rebecca herself seemed to want to get along ... but only to a point. Finally, Phoebe seemed to regard it as her duty in life to put up with Craig's quirkiness, and so often ended up applying to the same jobs, hanging out at the same places, etc. Presently, they even live in the same building.

Another Willy Wonka quote, chosen because it covers all of Craig's Familia: Death and Storms mentioned explicitly, Loss implied in the first two stanzas, and Passions demonstrated by the final two lines.

There's no earthly way of knowing
which direction we are going.

There's no knowing where we're rowing
or which way the river's flowing.

Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a'blowing?

Not a speck of light is showing
so the danger must be growing.
Are the fires of Hell a'glowing?
Is the grisly reaper mowing?

Yes!

The danger must be growing
for the rowers keep on rowing
AND THEY'RE CERTAINLY NOT SHOWING
ANY SIGNS THAT THEY ARE SLOWING!

Anchors Away

Craig's Anchoring of Rebecca was the harder of the two (and definitely deserves a mature reader warning). He originally planned to occupy Phoebe with several favorite movies back-to-back, then use his Estate to disguise himself as Phoebe, and "remind" Rebecca of their non-existant dinner date. During this candlelight dinner, he would slip his blood into her glass and put her under his power.

This proceeded exactly as planned, except that Craig got somewhat drunk trying to summon the courage to actually put blood in the girl's drink. Then Rebecca started massaging "Phoebe" and led "her" to the bedroom, and, well ... Rebecca thought that Craig was Phoebe right up until he entered her. Needless to say, this was a rather big shock for all involved, especially since Rebecca couldn't reconcile what she saw with what she felt.

Craig was suddenly reminded of why he was there, bit the inside of his mouth, and kissed the rather out-of-sorts girl, forcing the blood into her mouth. Rebecca suddenly saw him for what he was, and knew what had just happened (somewhat). He felt the anger and revulsion spike in her mind (now joined to his). The anchoring complete, he informed her that she was now his servant and bade her to be silent.

He didn't like this girl who had stolen his love, but neither did he think that she deserved what came dangerously close to rape. For that matter, nobody did.

Realizing as he said it how unlikely it was to help, he offered her the consolation that he would suffer the girls' relationship to exist ... for now. Then he instructed her to avoid talking to Phoebe for the rest of the evening (as he planned to Anchor her then), and departed.

Were Gods supposed to feel guilty?