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Trace Tigh Florin
According to long-forgotten lore, originating somewhere in the Baltic Mountains, there once existed two royal bloodlines. Alone, these families had very little special qualities aside from wealth. However, they both had something very special in their genetics, something they attributed to divine right or magic, depending on who you asked. When the two bloodlines crossed, the resulting child was endowed, they say, with the gift of illusion. The families, upon learning this proceeded to do as any royalty would do, and used it to maintain power for generations. Time, however, was unkind, and the royal bloodlines were lost, fading out of history and into myth, and eventually fading into obscurity.
The genes survived however, crawling underneath genetic data through the generations, stretched and faint. They watched the Great Fire of London in 1666, and they took a small part in the Renaissance, contributing to the art and culture. They moved to the New World, and later fought a war for its freedom. There was a time during the American Civil War when the two bloodlines nearly became whole again in a child, but before the newly-wed couple could begin their family, the man was drafted into the Confederate army, and died of infection after suffering a bullet wound in his shoulder. It wasn't until the late 20th century before those two bloodlines met again, seeing light for the first time in a Sacred Heart Hospital in Virginia. His name was Trace Tigh Florin.
Trace Tigh Florin was given his mother’s maiden name as a middle name, to honor his grandfather. He was born with deep, coppery amber eyes and light blonde hair. The hair, as he grew older, would fade to a less obtrusive sandy color, but the eyes never lost their light. Upon reaching adolescence, his build became more distinct. He watched his classmates’ height rocket above his own, but he was never the shortest in the class. He was fit and lean, but his muscles never announced themselves very loudly. Sparse hair had begun to grow on his chin and under his arms, which was exciting at first, but soon became mundane. The high point of puberty came to him at about fourteen, when the true nature of his genetics began to manifest itself.
At first he thought it was part of a dream. He’d awoken from a nonsensical dream in which his house was at the bottom of the ocean, and his primary concern had been finding a way to get his row boat through the door so he could get to school. Now, awakening, he found that the morning light streaming through his bedroom window was a translucent, jewel-like turquoise. A school of silvery fish mingled around his bedside lamp. An eel poked its mossy green head out of his closet, which was slightly ajar. Sitting up with a start, Trace began to wonder if this was one of those “lucid dreams” he’d heard about. But in the blink of an eye, the illusion melted away, and it was over. This phenomenon occupied his mind for the rest of the day. He finally decided that, if it wasn't a dream, it must be re-creatable. This is the thought that lead to his discovery and honing of his new skills.
Although the ancient Baltics had chalked up the “gift of illusion” to magic, it is really an advanced science, based on a simple concept: light. Everything the eye can see, color and shadow, shape and form, is all light. As Trace developed his skill, he learned to manipulate light. He began to sense light waves, almost like vibrations, and bend them, shift them, change them to his will. He found that the easiest trick he could do was to change the wavelength of light. The long, wistful, elegant wavelength of his favorite red pen could be manipulated to become a short, lively, jumping wavelength, and the pen was suddenly a bright sapphire blue. When he first managed this, it was surprisingly difficult, and he found he was somewhat winded afterward. He soon mastered it, however, and was on to more advanced tricks.
As influencing the wavelength of light became less tiring to him, Trace graduated to the feat of moving the light waves themselves. The waves resisted this more adamantly, but he found that he could bend waves around an object. When he did this, the waves bunched together near the object in question, like ripples in a pond, and evened out a distance away. By doing this, an object of his choosing could become invisible. As a teenager, he saw that these abilities carried with them opportunities that were nearly endless.
In the practice of these opportunities, which shall remain ambiguous for the time being, Trace came to be highly skilled in his talents. His illusions could become more elaborate and complex, and they took less of a physical toll. He would come to master the basic concepts, changing his red pen to blue, to yellow, to paisley without batting an eye. The kind of thing that would strain him now would be wearing one outfit to school, but having it appear as a different one. By the time he was sixteen, he had flawless control of his skill.
Of course, he had his social life as well. Since middle school, he'd been close friends with a boy named Miles Simon Apcento. Miles was considerably tall now, a head taller than Trace. He had peridot eyes and jet black hair. The two of them shared a strong bond. In fact, Miles was the only one that Trace ever dared to tell about his ability. It was not difficult to convince his friend that his words were true when he could demonstrate them. At the time, he'd been practicing with panoramic locational illusions. Turning his living room into a detailed interpretation of outer space was a fairly effective method of conveying his talents.
The primary concern Trace had had about telling Miles was that Miles might feel inferior or jealous, but more than anything else, Miles was ecstatic. He prided himself on being a geek. He watched dozens of animes, kept up with the latest comic books, and had an unnatural understanding of how technology works. He considered himself nothing short of blessed to be a part of something so deliciously “superhero”. Besides, he'd reasoned, why should he feel inferior? He has real knowledge, which is something you can't fake with an illusion. Trace could not dispute this, because, as much as he could use it, his abilities could not make the right answers show up on his history test.
Naturally, when two teenage males have access to phenomenal power such as this, they abuse it. Fortunately for their community, the two both had a fair set of morals, meaning that nothing was stolen, and no one was hurt. Among their mischievous activities however, were a series of pranks, the likes of which Maplesmoke County had never seen, and was completely unprepared for.
They both knew that illusions themselves couldn't hurt people, but people could hurt themselves. They thought out consequences to any prank they pulled before they did it. For instance, Trace had suggested creating a deer and having it run out in front of a car, but Miles had quickly pointed out that, if the car swerved, there’d be no telling what kind of damage could be done. Although Trace was clever, he was decidedly impulsive, and Miles’ logical, analytical personality helped to balance them out quite nicely. Between the two of them, they decided to start small.
The first good idea that came to them had to do with stairs. Almost anyone can attest to the falling, twisted feeling in the pit of one’s stomach derived from reaching the end of a staircase and coming to the realization that there is one more step than anticipated. Instead of a person’s foot reaching firm ground when they expect it to, it meets nothing but air, achieving the sensation of falling for a brief moment. If Trace made the floor beneath a staircase appear one step higher than it really was, then he and Miles could revel in watching others stumble clumsily at the end of a staircase.
The concept of giggling upon seeing someone trip is, in itself, very ordinary and dull. But because the two friends were doing something together that they could enjoy, the humor seemed to be amplified. There was also a degree of delight to be found in the fact that the source of this prank came from a secret power wielded only by Trace. As such, the pranking continued, and they invented new pranks to laugh to.
There were many jokes they played, but none so spectacular as the jewel that Trace dreamed up. This one went on to become local myth; an urban legend that children in the town would talk about for years to come.
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- | Submitted on 05/28/2013 |
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- Title: Trace Tigh Florin
- Artist: ctrl z x infinity
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Description:
So my teacher, in an attempt to make a "fun" assignment, had her students dream up a super hero. She actually was right that it was fun. I would have gotten an A by writing a couple bulletpoints about my hero. I kinda let it get away from me a bit. I never finished completely, but I feel I did very well with what I did do.
Lemme know what ya'll think.
Oh, and the really clever ones among you might be able to figure out that the two main characters' names are both anagrams for something. - Date: 05/28/2013
- Tags: trace tigh florin
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Alys_Pickles - 07/10/2013
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Trace's anagram is Light Refraction. Which is pretty interesting since his ability essentially describes what light refraction is.
I could not figure out Miles... I'm assuming it has to do with knowledge, but I can't work it out.
Anyways. I enjoyed reading. I rated a four because it's kind of ho-hum (and that's probably due to that it's not finished). Otherwise it would have been five stars.
Might I add, what a strange and unique superpower. Props to you. - Report As Spam