Dancing Coyote
From Champions MUSH
| Dancing Coyote |
|---|
| Image:DC.jpg |
| Alignment |
| Heroes |
| Secret Identity |
| n/a |
| Affiliation |
| Black Sheep Samaritans, Harrisburg Watch |
Contents |
Dancing Coyote
Dancing Coyote is still awaiting application/approval
Though always willing to use his magic to battle supervillains and similar threats, Dancing Coyote primarily sees himself as a healer and spiritual leader, not a "superhero." He provides healing at a free clinic in Harrisburg, works with underpriveleged children, provides counseling and religious services, and otherwise works to improve the lives of the people in the community.
Description
A middle-aged American Indian man in excellent shape for his age.
He is dressed in what seems to be shamanic ritual garb, the most striking elements of which are a thin golden headband fashioned in the form of a snake twining around itself, a short bear-skin vest gathered at the waist by a bear-claw clasp, and a pair of loose snakeskin sandals. Even those who know nothing of magic can tell that these are items of power.
In addition to those items he wears an elaborately embroidered red silk garment somewhere between a loincloth and a skirt, and not much else. It doesn't seem practical for cold weather, but he manages.
His chest and arms are covered with tattoos displaying stylized images of animals: bear, wolf, coyote, raven, snake, etc. From time to time they appear to change appearance and even position, although you never quite catch them moving.
A wide variety of other talismans and pouches are arranged all over his body.
Origin
Centuries ago, before the arrival of European colonists to the new world, Dancing Coyote was the shaman of a Manahoac Indian tribe not far from the current location of Colonial Bay. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manahoac for some background. I take enormous liberties with the historical Manahoac with this character, though.)
In his early 20s he was brought forward to the year 2054 by his spirit patrons and given great magical powers. He gained some reknown as a superhero for a couple of years before being sent on other missions in other times by his patrons.
He has returned to Colonial Bay, now... only a couple of years after he left, but decades older and (he hopes) wiser.
Powers
In his youth, he channeled the gifts of his spirit patrons instinctively through his body, increasing his strength and speed and senses, healing and changing his shape with a simple incantation.
Age has taken its toll, and he can no longer do all of this quite so casually. He more than makes up for it with a broad range of chants of power and magical items, but he is no longer the front-line champion he used to be.
Personality
DC is by nature a healer, of spirits as well as bodies. He is a natural diplomat and peacekeeper, always looking for ways to resolve unnecessary conflict.
However, he is also a man of strong principles, which he will not back down from solely for the sake of peace. Though he prefers the nonviolent solution whenever possible, he is willing to fight when the situation requires it.
His commitment to protect the innocent extends beyond the obvious catching of falling schoolbuses and similar heroics, into social work and similar activities. He works with at-risk youth, provides free healing services to the community, and generally spends his time trying to make life better for those who need it.
Although he has great respect for those who judge and enforce the law, he recognizes that law has its own imperatives, which don't always lead to improving people's lives. When those imperatives come into conflict, he violates law without hesitation. In particular, he considers the concept of victimless crimes (such as narcotic use) outright goofy; he also doesn't care very much about property law (trespassing, theft, vandalism, etc.).
DC is aware that his role frequently requires him to affect an air of solemnity, which he does willingly. However, he is also a man of strong passions, and surprisingly playful when he lets his hair down. He knows how to have a good time.
While he is fond of ethical/moral discussion and not above proselytizing, he isn't annoying about it. He is also extremely supportive of differing beliefs and lifestyles as long as nobody gets hurt.
He prefers to live close to nature, both in the sense of living outdoors and the sense of avoiding reliance on technology. However, this preference is entirely aesthetic and logistical, not moral or ethical -- he is in no way anti-technology. Quite the contrary, he fully approves of technology and its ability to improve people's lives. It simply isn't his path.
Relations
Being a sociable and outgoing fellow, DC made many friends during his first stay in Colonial Bay DC.
Shoro was the first friend he made in the city, a relationship with traditional significance among the Manahoac. Not too long after that he encountered Aurica, a fellow mystic with whom he became enamored, albeit unrequitedly. Later relations include Wasp (whose metahuman FEMA group he is associated with), Cybermage (in whose guest room he lived for some time while being hunted by Trinity, and whose radically different style of magic fascinated him for some time, but whom he most fondly remembers for her wisdom and counsel), Eel (as well as, to a lesser degree, the rest of the Black Sheep Samaritans), and David Ciaratara (they were lovers for a time). He also developed a surprisingly affectionate relationship with vampiric supervillain Nicki Winters, ultimately resulting in her agreeing to a fifty-year prison sentence in Stronghold.
DC's friendly relations with Nicki and, to a lesser extent, David, led to some friction with several local heroes, most notably Silver Spider, Random Factor, and Eleven.
History
"It's hard to know exactly where to start," he tells you, as he pokes the fire with a stick. "I suppose the best way is from the beginning, with my tribe.
"The Manahoac were not the mightiest tribe, nor the wealthiest, nor, I must admit, the smartest or most devout, though in my youth it seemed to me we were. Our neighbors, the Sioux, controlled most of what you call Virginia, from the eastern ocean to the western mountains, and we were a minor ally of theirs."
He seems wistful as he remembers his own past. "I could tell you many stories of my parents, and of my youth, but it would no doubt require a great deal of explanation and is rather beside the point. Suffice to say that I was an unremarkable youth, a little smarter than my fellows, but nothing special. Except that Leaf Smoker, the tribe's shaman, saw something special in me. He told my parents I had a destiny to become a shaman." He pauses for a moment, lost in memory. "I miss him. He was a good teacher, and later a good friend and ally."
He continues. "Leaf Smoker taught me a great deal about the essences of plants and animals and men. He taught me to identify medicinal herbs, and how to prepare them. He taught me to listen to the howl of Wolf and the low of Cow and the bleat of Sheep and Goat, and hear their fears and their desires, how to calm them and train them and put them to work. He taught me how to listen to men, and how to make them listen, both with words and without them. He taught me the lore of the spirit realm that underlies the physical realm, how to lead the ceremonies and the rituals, how to recognize the manipulations of sorcerors and spirits. In short, he taught me to be a shaman."
"In the summer of my fourteenth year, on the longest day, I went on my vision quest. This is -- I mean, was -- a coming-of-age ritual among my people... I'm not sure you have anything similar. But for shamanic initiates it is particularly special. It is the first time an initiate sends his spirit along the spirit paths, to find a patron or die trying. Many never come back."
He pauses. "It is difficult to describe the spirit paths themselves. It is like travelling through a dream, more a state of mind than a place. Suffice to say that I ate the sacred mushrooms and breathed the traveller's smoke and travelled the Paths, and when I returned I had been marked by Coyote." He points to the coyote tattoo on his chest, which seems to be looking right at you.
He grins rakishly. "This was unexpected. Coyote is a trickster, refusing to be bound by rule or custom. I was a serious boy, eager to adapt to custom. Everyone, including me, expected me to be marked by Raven, as my teacher had been. To have Coyote as my patron was... anomalous. But then, that is Coyote's nature." He shrugs.
"Regardless, I had survived my vision quest and was now younger shaman to my tribe. I treated them, body and mind and spirit, at Leaf Smoker's side. I married, had a daughter. I thought I had found my destiny... to lead my people's spiritual life, raise my family, negotiate with the Sioux."
"Then, on the shortest day of my twenty-second winter, Coyote returned to me in a vision, and invited me back onto the paths. I was unprepared, and lost my way, but I heard Raven's call through the mists and followed. She was mourning for one of her chicks, whose wings had been fouled in hatching and would not fly true. I set the hatchling's wing, and Raven spoke to me, offering me her eyes to see the path around me. I followed her guidance."
"The path Raven showed me was blocked by Wolf, who laughed in my ear. 'Man... you are here at my cousin's invitation, so I let you pass, and offer you a gift. Use it well.' She left, and on the ground where she'd been lay a knife, sharp and fearsome, fashioned from one of her teeth.
"Further down, the path led through a cave occupied by Bear, who normally slept through the winter but was awake, and angry. 'Stay away,' she roared. 'Though my cubs be too weak for the Great Sleep, they shall not fall to one such as you!' I almost attacked Bear in that moment. Wolf's Tooth was a mighty weapon, and I felt Wolf's swiftness and grace in battle flow through me as I wielded it. But she was just protecting her cubs, and in the end I could not bring myself to do it. Instead, I dropped Wolf's Tooth and entered Bear's cave harmless and helpless. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done."
He seems to realize his story is dragging on a bit. "Well, to shorten the tale: I treated Bear's cubs, and she let me pass. And I returned Wolf's Tooth to her, for the blade was not part of my path. And when I reached the end of that path, Bear gifted me with her strength, and Wolf her speed and keen scent, and Raven her awareness of her surroundings." He indicates the other tattoos on his chest.
"At the end of the path was Coyote, and he approved my journey. He became my mentor for a time, teaching me magic: spells of illusion and transformation, spells to speak directly to another's mind. And then he offerred me a choice: to reject the gifts of the spirits, and return home, never to walk the spirit-paths again... or to come here, and help protect this place. I chose to stay, and received yet more gifts from the spirits: Snake taught me a spell to invoke her presence to enlighten my mind and spirit, and taught your language, and something of your history and your ways."
He stops talking for a moment as his eyes glisten. Finally he continues. "That was a difficult time. There are things about your history I would, frankly, rather not know. The Manahoac were no longer, and the Sioux not what they were. My land had been invaded and occupied, my people displaced or killed, and I alone had survived."
He shakes his head, as if to clear it, and continues. "Well and well, we deal with reality as we find it. I stayed in Colonial Bay for two years, performing a variety of services and learning more about the gifts the spirits gave me. I had several encounters with my patrons' enemies, Those Who Sit in Shadow, which I would rather not discuss. I found good friends, lovers, allies, and enemies. I came to terms with my new role as champion of life... I saved many lives, and failed to save many.
"And then Coyote came to me once more, and led me to the spirit paths again. I have travelled them several times since, to many different times, future and past, and of those adventures I will not speak today. And now, I am returned to this era."
