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tamingthemuseTitle: The Legend of the Storm
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: X-Men
Character/Pairing: Storm, Villagers
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge: #459: Kokopelli (Week 1 of Participation. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
valyssia for the idea of tracking it this way.
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 733
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
There are many hidden caves in the wilds of Africa that hold much knowledge and still more secrets. Most of them have paintings or other signs of the past, some of which even date back to the earliest known people. Kokopelli and other gods are shown taking interest in mortal affairs. The ways of the lives of the people from eons ago are shown on the walls, and whereas scientists have figured out many of the stories shown on those rocky canvases, still others remain unsolved.
There are creatures which they can not determine are even male or female, let alone human. Speculation is that those shown wielding powers or other signs that would have made them important millenia ago are mostly men for man often dominates cultures. Yet there is one whose body is undeniably feminine. She is shown not only wielding power but rising above the people, two things that it is still believed to this day are very uncommon for the gender commonly considered to be weaker than their opposition.
Still stranger are the dates of these paintings. These sketchings are not thousands of years old. They are not even a hundred. They were made in a time when few people bothered to draw on rock or with dirt or clay. They were made to be added to a proud history and never erased, but they are only recent additions.
Scientists puzzle over these drawings especially for who would bother to paint on a wall in a time when cave markings are by far a thing of the past? If some one in modern times wanted a story to be told, why would they resort to the dank, dark walls of a cave instead of paper that can easily be sent across the world? Most puzzling of all, who is the woman who wields such power that she seems able to command the wind and the rain, perhaps the very stars, and throws lightning bolts when those blasts of energy are believed to only be wielded by the most powerful of Gods?
Who is she, indeed, to have such power in this day and time? What mere woman could impress an entire people to bow down and worship her as is indicated in the bowed heads far beneath some of her depictions? Who is she? What is she? Human? Goddess? Alien?
"Mutant," some whisper. "Monster," others snarl in disgust. The people working around the scientists always seem to pause in what they're doing when they speak those words. One white male, bolder than his companions, dares to brush his fingers across the woman's breasts. He pulls back in shock when a knife darts at his hands.
Angry words are spewed, but the villagers do not speak the white man's language. They have chosen not to learn it, but those who remain behind understand well when the one who wielded the blade in defense of the woman they all hold in deep respect is pulled out of the cave. The white men will have their way, but they would not if only their Goddess was here again, walking amongst them.
"*They will come*," some of the elders whisper and look up with smiles in their deep, brown eyes when thunder rumbles in the distance. It proves to only be a passing rain storm, but they know what it really means. She will come again. Perhaps not today or tomorrow or even the day after that, but when they needed her the most, she will come to them again as she always has.
Their Storm will come. Their Goddess will arrive with food and water, nourishment for the body and soul, and she will wreck retribution. No man, white, human, mutant, or otherwise, will be able to take all their secrets. Their people will never die, will never waste away entirely as long as she lives for she loves them unlike any other who has come before her or will come after. She loves them. They adore her in return, keep her secrets, and pass her legend down through their children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren, and along the way, more pictures are added to the walls that their Priests will see are never destroyed, more secrets telling her story which no one who does not know her will understand, the story of the Storm and her love which never ended.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: X-Men
Character/Pairing: Storm, Villagers
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge: #459: Kokopelli (Week 1 of Participation. Thanks to
valyssia for the idea of tracking it this way.Warning(s): None
Word Count: 733
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
There are many hidden caves in the wilds of Africa that hold much knowledge and still more secrets. Most of them have paintings or other signs of the past, some of which even date back to the earliest known people. Kokopelli and other gods are shown taking interest in mortal affairs. The ways of the lives of the people from eons ago are shown on the walls, and whereas scientists have figured out many of the stories shown on those rocky canvases, still others remain unsolved.
There are creatures which they can not determine are even male or female, let alone human. Speculation is that those shown wielding powers or other signs that would have made them important millenia ago are mostly men for man often dominates cultures. Yet there is one whose body is undeniably feminine. She is shown not only wielding power but rising above the people, two things that it is still believed to this day are very uncommon for the gender commonly considered to be weaker than their opposition.
Still stranger are the dates of these paintings. These sketchings are not thousands of years old. They are not even a hundred. They were made in a time when few people bothered to draw on rock or with dirt or clay. They were made to be added to a proud history and never erased, but they are only recent additions.
Scientists puzzle over these drawings especially for who would bother to paint on a wall in a time when cave markings are by far a thing of the past? If some one in modern times wanted a story to be told, why would they resort to the dank, dark walls of a cave instead of paper that can easily be sent across the world? Most puzzling of all, who is the woman who wields such power that she seems able to command the wind and the rain, perhaps the very stars, and throws lightning bolts when those blasts of energy are believed to only be wielded by the most powerful of Gods?
Who is she, indeed, to have such power in this day and time? What mere woman could impress an entire people to bow down and worship her as is indicated in the bowed heads far beneath some of her depictions? Who is she? What is she? Human? Goddess? Alien?
"Mutant," some whisper. "Monster," others snarl in disgust. The people working around the scientists always seem to pause in what they're doing when they speak those words. One white male, bolder than his companions, dares to brush his fingers across the woman's breasts. He pulls back in shock when a knife darts at his hands.
Angry words are spewed, but the villagers do not speak the white man's language. They have chosen not to learn it, but those who remain behind understand well when the one who wielded the blade in defense of the woman they all hold in deep respect is pulled out of the cave. The white men will have their way, but they would not if only their Goddess was here again, walking amongst them.
"*They will come*," some of the elders whisper and look up with smiles in their deep, brown eyes when thunder rumbles in the distance. It proves to only be a passing rain storm, but they know what it really means. She will come again. Perhaps not today or tomorrow or even the day after that, but when they needed her the most, she will come to them again as she always has.
Their Storm will come. Their Goddess will arrive with food and water, nourishment for the body and soul, and she will wreck retribution. No man, white, human, mutant, or otherwise, will be able to take all their secrets. Their people will never die, will never waste away entirely as long as she lives for she loves them unlike any other who has come before her or will come after. She loves them. They adore her in return, keep her secrets, and pass her legend down through their children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren, and along the way, more pictures are added to the walls that their Priests will see are never destroyed, more secrets telling her story which no one who does not know her will understand, the story of the Storm and her love which never ended.
The End
