Board Queen – Part 6
Not going to lie: Today makes me pretty nervous. Board Queen has been incredibly fun; the concept behind Diz’s character, the world she inhabits, all of it has just been a blast to write. All stories come to an end though, I just hope that this one goes out in style. It matters to me to end on a high note, something memorable and thoughtful that makes all the time invested worth it. It will be quite a long time before I’m actually able to pick this story back up, so I want to be sure that I leave it in a place that I’m comfortable walking away from.
As for the last portion of the story, what I really want to do is get down into the meat of Diz’s powers. We’ve learned about how she came to work for Carl, how she met and befriended Pony, and how her life has settled into something which could be considered normal. It’s important therefore to take this last post and focus on her abilities and her conscience. They are truly the backbone of what it means to be a hero. What are you or are you not willing to do? Where is the line drawn in the sand, which allows you to differentiate between yourself and the ones you fight against? Both questions are incredibly important, and require answers before we can invest ourselves fully into a character.
The significant majority of time to date, I have been dancing around the issues of Diz’s magical abilities, and how those abilities truly functioned. I basically gave a slight taste, then jumped right into back story and character building. That feels like a bit of a cheat, but I really needed to get my head around how I was going to manager her magical talents. Part of my inspiration was drawn from the author Brandon Sanderson. He’s an incredibly good author, even if his habit of murdering characters I enjoy is all too similar to a certain George R.R. Martin, so when he took the time to speak on this particular subject, I took the time to listen.
In a nutshell, his argument was this: A good magical system is less about developing a ton of magical abilities and creating unlimited strength, and more of a focus on limitations and breadth of only a few abilities. He analogies Superman, who is interesting not because of all the stuff he can do, but because with all his strength and power he is still weak to kryptonite and magic, and refuses to kill as much as he possibly can. Those are what create such a likeable character. It is what he cannot or refuses to do that make stories with him interesting. So with Diz, I wanted to stick to a few set abilities, and spend time expanding those few abilities until they coat the entirety of her universe. I do not want to devolve into deus ex machina. That is a trap too many writers find they have written themselves into. So far, so good, but I must be watchful. I do not want to end up in the position of Dragon Ball Z: Oh look, a sensu bean which removes all sense of drama or tension! A new, completely undisclosed ability which neatly solves the problem being faced! A power-up which rockets a specific individual into the exact proportion necessary to fill a glaring plot hole! See? Not good writing at all, and such situations are best avoided at all costs.
Without further kaio-ken…
Board Queen – Part 6 – Conclusion.
The memory of the day her powers came to her would haunt Diz until her dying days. It began as most such days do: In total ignorance of the enormity of events about to unfold. Diz had gotten up, rinsed through a wash cycle, redyed her hair, and was on her way to work when it happened. Weaving through traffic in her standard fashion with the training pack Pony had let her “borrow” strapped tightly in place as usual, she was caught completely off guard by the stun blast which struck her from behind. All of her muscles locked into rigidity in the same agonizing moment, her entire body a rictus of taut muscles. She couldn’t even let out the agonized wail which was desperate to find release from her suddenly tortured lungs which were fighting desperately for air.
Two large, older men on boards caught her before her rigid form could strike or be struck by anything. They quickly dashed into one of the alleys which lined all the airlanes of the Ring, throwing her unceremoniously to the plasticrete as they began unstrapping her training pack with unseemly haste. Her muscles slowly relaxed as the temporary effects of the stun blast released their iron grip. She gasped, retched, and let loose a wail of pain as she found breath and opportunity. The poorly maintained glowstrips flickered in the alley as the men fought to open the training pack. They had to work quickly, for someone had surely spotted them as they made their move and SecFirm took courier safety extremely seriously.
The larger of the two brutes, clean cut and enormous, let loose a cry of triumph as he finally managed to get through the meager security protocols of the training pack. His jubilation quickly turned into confused silence as he lifted out the contents: A singular shaped weight, designed to fit snugly into the pack. Diz, catching the look of utter incomprehension on his otherwise frightening features, was able to let out a weak chuckle through her pain and terror. The burly fellow instantly looked to Diz, his eyes narrowing in a cold and murderous rage as he dropped the pack and the weight. “Think it’s funny do you?” He growled in her direction as he walked over, looming menacingly against the backdrop of the dark and dingy alley.
Diz knew she was in serious trouble. The penalty for robbing a courier is extremely stiff, years upon years in isocells with no chance of parole. Plus, couriers are armed and well trained in their own defense. Only the desperate, with nothing to lose and everything to gain, would attempt such a thing. And she hadn’t even had anything they could grab and make a dash with, allowing her to recover in peace. The minutes before SecFirm would arrive might as well have been an eternity, because Diz was certain they would never reach her in time. The brute reached down for her, hoisting her into the air by one shoulder as easily as if she were nothing more than a troublesome kitten. He leered, teeth showing the odd blue tint that came from abusing Shine, and grated into her face “What do we do now, girl? We took an awful risk jumping you, but how could we resist? Speedway courier, so young and vulnerable, and Carl only takes the best deliveries.” He growled this last part, clearly harboring some personal animosity for Speedway or Carl, or both. “We were certain we had finally gotten our hands on something good.” With his last words, he suddenly and viciously drove his gigantic fist into Diz’s stomach. Her world exploded in pain as she crumpled around the flaring nightmare that used to be her guts. She heaved, already having lost her breakfast, but unable to stop the reflex. Her tormentor had dropped her, but now pulled her upright by her hair, causing a fresh agony in a morning already full of them. His other meaty fist reached for his belt, and came back holding a grav knife, the edge nearly invisible to her naked eyes. This was it; she knew she was staring at her death.
She thought back on all the new things she had gotten to experience since Carl had rescued her from the streets. The stability of a home to call her own. Eating consistent meals, and finding something she was both good at and enjoyed doing. The rush of the wind through her hair, threading through it like the fingers of a long lost friend each time. Pony, her beautiful face smiling down at her as she did something well. Zhang, his quiet and gentle eyes crinkled at the corner in the only smile he knew how to give. Carl, his broad and clever face looking at her with a gentleness it never had looking anywhere else. Jeanine, her eyes aglow with a motherly pride as she watched how well Diz had learned to take care of herself and her apartment. She would never see any of them again, never share laughter or a meal with them again. Never get to pay back even a small part of the debt she owed Carl, or Pony, or any of the rest. This was where her new life was to end.
In the quiet of the dark and dirty alleyway, hanging by her hair as the large man pulled back the grav knife for the killing blow, Rage suddenly grabbed hold of Diz, rushing upward from the center of her being. A whirlwind of heat and emotion such as she had never felt before claimed hold of her, and she was helpless in the face of it. She let loose a primal bellow of sheer murderous fury, the tremendous intensity of it startling her attackers. The momentary pause as they recovered was all the time the Rage had needed. Her hands, clutching her tormentor, flared into blistering light. They caught fire as swiftly as they might have if she had been standing behind a firing engine. It burned, and she was sure her flesh was melting as she watched the fire kindle even brighter. Oh stars above, it was torture, her flesh surely blistering under the heat of her own blazing limbs. Each nerve ending was scorched as the moments dragged on, and Diz was lamenting how she could have let her limbs do that without her approval. Her would-killer, now sharing her terror and agony, dropped Diz as he backed away, clutching the arm which had become badly burned. He came to his senses rather quickly, and clumsily sheathed his knife to draw the grav pistol at his other hip. “Goodbye, freak.” he panted with a mixture of fear and pain as he pulled the trigger to the pistol. The discharge of gravitic force lashed outward with all the deadly intent it could muster, heading directly at the face of the torch previously known as Diz. Fire flared where the bolt of energy should have impacted her body with lethal results, and the fierce flames seemed to cancel out the strength of the shot. Diz, her face now aflame, loosed a new and more piteous moan of anguished torture.
The flames subsided as suddenly as they had come, ending when Diz was certain she was about to collapse from the relentless torment. The pain of the burns vanished into memory, one moment all consuming, the next moment as gone as if it had never existed in the first place. Not a trace of flame or scorch marks were evident on her arms, and feeling her face, Diz realized it was completely undamaged. The metal of her lip and nose piercings were cool to the touch. It was as though they had never been coated in the almost liquid fire which had caused such agony. Her attackers seemed just as puzzled as she, though that emotion did not last long. Face showing mounting panic, the large man raised his pistol once more, and emptied the pack at her as fast as he could squeeze the trigger. Diz was suddenly consumed by a new emotion, once more welling up as if called forth from it’s unknown home within her body. This emotion wasn’t the raging inferno of the fury which had called forth flame. This was just as strong, but more controlled, more in command of itself. As it filled her very being with energy, she knew it’s name: Justice. It wasn’t right that this should be her last moment. It wasn’t right that all of those men and women who had given her so much should be denied her company now, in this dingy alleyway to these two desperate men. It wasn’t right. Even knowing it was coming, her hand shooting up to block the discharged shots still surprised her with it’s speed. Tendrils of lightning sprung forth from her hand, creating a web that laced itself from her fingertips. As though magnetized to it shining strands, the barely visible bolts of energy veered themselves towards this new foe, and were utterly consumed by it.
The sense of being filled with power began to swell alarmingly, until she thought she would burst. Clearly, the web she summoned had consumed the incoming energy, adding it’s strength to the crackling power which flowed within her. Again without conscious input, she spread her hands as wide as she could, stretching them towards the dimly visible heavens. A larger web flashed suddenly into existence between her outstretched arms, and with a flick of her hands and will, she flung the web outward and over her two thoroughly scared would-be killers. Knowing that it’s touch would be deadly, she considered letting it consume the two men. She saw Pony’s face, so round and exquisite, and imagined what those features would look like twisted into fear at what Diz had done. No! she thought with fierce pride. I will not sink to the level of my tormentors. I will be better than they! Letting loose another bellow, she knelt down to the alley floor and somehow pushed upward on the center of her slowly descending web with her mind and desire, miming the action with her hands as well. The web responded, gaining rigidity as she shaped it with her will, so that the men were encased in a suddenly solid dome of crackling lightning. The strength within her sang with her determination, making her body sing as the power pulsed through her. The feeling and the power which flowed through her with it both retreated into the deep space within her as suddenly as the flames had dissipated, yet she could sense them now. Fury and Justice, dwelling just below the surface.
Diz was suddenly startled back into the reality of her situation, and as she looked around she was surprised to see that the web entrapping the two men hadn’t vanished. “I’d not touch the bars of your cage, gentlemen.” Diz stated breathlessly, suddenly exhausted from her ordeal. “I’m not sure it would be an entirely healthy decision.” A knowledge fed to her by the Justice sleeping within made her state “And rest assured, it will dissipate once SecFirm arrives. I wouldn’t want you to miss your appointment with the Judge.” The weighted pack felt as though it weighed two hundred pounds instead of twenty as she fitted it back together and locked it fast. Swinging the strap around her shoulder, and snugging the pack across her back, she blearily stepped on her board and pulled her goggles snug over her face. With a last look of pity for the fate of the two souls behind her, she kicked her board to life and flew back out into the morning.
Fin
With Justice and Fury,
Justin
