The Emporium's Showcase: Year of the Fox. (M/M only)

[Oniya]

Greetings, gentle reader - or hopefully not-so-gentle. >:)  From time to time, one of the denizens of my brain decides to make his presence a bit more, shall we say, obtrusive.  This usually does not have very good results for them, but does provide a wonderful opportunity for me.  Allow me to introduce the one currently lounging on the casting couch.

  Dae Adams

  Occupation: Guitarist
  Size: 6' tall, but slim.
  Age: mid-20's
  Blond/blue eyes, long hair

  Best suited for: urban-fantasy
  Also suited for: modern to near-future (with modifications)

Backstory, yay!

Dae is a character that I've had in my head for many years.  Singer, songwriter, guitarist - and he's a looker.  You'd think he'd have it made, right?  Not hardly.  See, not only is he quite firmly in the closet (can you imagine the press cuttings?), but he's got a little performance anxiety.  No, not that kind. 

Dae's troubles actually started before he was born, when a distant ancestor had a bit of a dalliance with one of the Fair Folk.  Fast forward a few generations, and Dae would seem to have reaped the benefits:  tall and slender, with long blond hair and a face that could (and did) break hearts.  His voice is magical - I mean, really magical.  When he hits 'the zone' on stage, he can thin the veils that separate our world from that of the Fae, producing one hell of a stage show.  He's not aware of either his ancestor or the fact that his singing ability is anything other than mundane.

He has been increasingly aware of a little problem that it's causing:  Severe reactions to the artificial enclosures of modern life.  It's not so bad in his day-to-day life, but after a show, he can't stand to be surrounded by concrete and steel.  The last leg of his final tour consisted of all outdoor venues.

Why final?  There's the heartbreak.  Dae was in a band called Lethe.  For the length of their run, he had the nickname of 'Ice Prince', since he was the only band member not to take advantage of the inevitable crowd of groupies.  Just not interested.  Unfortunately, one of the band members was a little less than tolerant, and when he confronted Dae with his suspicions, the resulting misunderstanding was fatal to Lethe's cohesiveness.  (For the record, Dae was not interested in his bandmates, either.)

So, now he's on his own, making a modest living from royalties, open-air shows, and - when money gets tight - the rare club appearance.  His 'condition' hasn't gotten any better.  If anything, it's getting progressively worse.  He's going to need someone to help him deal with it, eventually.

This is where I ask for a volunteer from the audience.  You see, Dae has attracted some attention from the other side of the veils.  Someone very interested in this songbird, with plans on 'helping' him accept his true nature.  I don't expect complete altruism from the Fae, however.  Rather, I anticipate that there will be some ulterior motive as well.  Dae's abilities could come in handy, of course, and there would be some status gained by having a member of that particular bloodline as - lover? consort? slave?  (Dae does not have to accept his true nature willingly, after all >:) )  I should be fair and point out that despite his success, Dae is no diva.  There will be no need to sort out the brown M&Ms.  (Cheers if you get the reference, and know the real story behind that.)

I do have one other twist that I would be ever so eager to indulge, although it takes a certain kind of deviance in my partner.  If the title on the spoiler bar intrigues you, read on!

Continuing the Bloodline

The Fae are a long-lived race.  Some say they are immortal, barring illness or injury, but bloodlines and houses mean a great deal to them.  Dae's bloodline, diluted as it is, is an ancient one, and many houses would relish the idea of combining it with their own.  The Fae Lord that seeks Dae out is one of them.  The fact that Dae is male means little to beings who exist in the magical realms.  There are ways around that.  Naturally, Dae will need some convincing to go along with this - but there are ways around that as well.  I admit I'm leaning towards a darker relationship here.

If a version of this sequence of events appeals to you, PM me with the subject line 'Musician's Heir'.

[Oniya]

And so, the Emporium once again has an offering to showcase.  This was originally a mere plot-bunny sparked by something said in passing elsewhere, but after a few days incubating in Notepad, it has grown a bit larger than the Emporium's usual display-cases.

Inspiration

If you think this sounds familiar, and think that you know where it comes from, include your guess in your PM.  (It won't affect your chances if you're wrong or don't know - I just like to know when my in-jokes are recognized.)  I've always loved a good epic ballad, and the fact that bards these days use electric guitars instead of lutes makes no difference to me.

The Cycle is twelve.  It has always been twelve.  For some, it is months.  For some, it is years.  For some... well, that's another thing all together.  In the old days, they named the moon's Cycle.  Fish.  Ram.  Bull.  All familiar names, circling to form the next Cycle.  The sun's Cycle was named as well.  Boar.  Snake.  Monkey.  Familiar names again, but the Cycle beyond that was not named.  Regardless, it still progressed.  Nameless, the wheel still spun.  Twelve Cycles of the sun made one step on that next, larger, older Cycle.  Twelve steps before it returned to its beginning.  Twelve long steps, until Cycle ended, and the beginning was barely remembered by those (if any) who were alive at its dawn.

Still, there were the stories, passed down among the Wise.  After the twelfth long step, there would be something new.  A mystic time between Time, where the wheels turned as one for a space.  Thirteen times, the moon would turn, and the sun would carry the name of Fox.  Then, all the Cycles would begin anew.

Less flowery version

In the Western Zodiac, twelve signs (houses) make the cycle of the year.  In the Eastern Zodiac, the twelve signs (houses) form a twelve-year cycle.  Above that is another cycle, not created by man.  Each twelve-year cycle is only one 'house' in that cycle, making it a total of 144 years to reach the end (long enough for the happenings of the previous 'between time' to be considered 'historical' instead of 'present day', or even to be nearly forgotten).  After the end of the 144-year cycle is something equivalent to the epagomenal days of the Egyptian calendars - a period of time that is not part of any cycle.  In this case, the period is thirteen turns of the moon (one 'turn' of the sun plus one 'turn' of the moon).

The time between has come.  At the beginning of this time, the Wise say, one will be chosen.  None could say for sure what they would be chosen for.  Some tales spoke of the Bride of Heaven.  Others spoke of a champion against the Dark.  The one who was chosen seemed to be neither - no blushing maiden or steel-thewed warrior.  Instead, he seemed a quiet scholar (my character), completely bewildered at the mandate laid on him. 

Several days' travel into the wilderness, where the earth's very bones are exposed in a high flat hill of basalt, is a formation known as 'The Temple'.  It was not made by human hands, but despite the veil of age it seems too precise to be natural:  Thirteen pillars spaced evenly in a circle, the floor lined with cracks that are eerily reminiscent of tiles.  Some say that during storms, those pillars carry the lightning into the cracks, creating arcane symbols from a time before mankind.  This is his destination.  Here is where he will meet his fate.

Author's Note:  In the standard Hero's Quest, the Hero is not always who you expect.  Nevertheless, he is guided to a place of trials, where he communes with powers beyond the natural world.  He is not guaranteed to succeed, or even to return.  Perhaps he will fail, and be overcome by those powers - or he might eventually return to the natural world with a gift from Those Beyond.  Of course, Those Beyond may have strange ideas of what constitutes a 'gift'.