H Trope: Blue Collar Warlock ("I have an idea that most of the mystics in comics are generally older people, very austere, very proper, very middle class in a lot of ways. They are not at all functional on the street. It struck me that it might be interesting for once to do an almost blue collar warlock. Somebody who was streetwise, working class, and from a different background than the standard run of comic book mystics. Constantine started to grow out of that.")
Current Event: “Forgive me for getting a bit carried away. I find it an entertaining exercise to look for those parallels. I simply wonder if the manner in which we tackle the challenges we face in real life is reflected in the way we tackle our virtual battles. As a side-note, I'd also be interested to see what kind of people the Destiny sub consists of.” (http://www.reddit.com/r/DestinyTheGame/comments/2n3xfc/whats_your_primary_class_and_what_do_you_do_in/)
Rafael Pai-Teles sighed. “Eu vou estar o trabalhar para a Metrô del Belo Horizonte para o resto de minha vida!”
Eduarda Cisota shook her head and said, “Speak English. Your Portuguese is crappy.”
“I can’t work for the Belo Horizonto Metro for the rest of my life!”
Eduarda said, “What else are you going to do?”
Rafael said, “I can do something else.”
“You can’t do anything,” she said. “Now get back to work.”
Rafael scowled. “I’m worth a lot more than you think I am!” he snapped.
“You’re a kid. Just like me. You’re gonna run the train and I’m gonna take tickets from now until forever. It’s what happened. At least we didn’t get turned into stalagmites. We were lucky to be here when the Donkey Wizard took over Up North.”
“It was the Elephant Sorceress and she turned everyone into obsidian shards,” Eduarda said.
He threw his arms into the air and shouted, “Whatever! I can do something about it!”
“About every living thing being turned into some kind of inorganic obelisk – what can you possibly do?” Rafael crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Eduarda rolled her eyes and said, “That didn’t come out how I meant it to come out.”
“How did you mean it, as a compliment?”
“No, but I didn’t mean to sound so...” as she spoke, a train roared into Carlos Prates Estação.
“I have to go now! I’ll tell you what I can do later!” he shouted.
She watched him run after the train where he was a porter. His father had been a physicist in the Aryabhata tradition, dealing with solar energy and, accordingly, solar weapons. He’d died when the Wizard or Sorceress or whoever turned life to stone. There was some Christian writer who’d written of a fictional sorceress who had done then, but she didn’t know who. The train started to pull out and she cursed. Now she’d have to...As she watched, the concrete platform under Rafael’s feet shimmered, then appeared to be a mound of living tissue – like a wart or pimple or something equally disgusting. As it rose though, it allowed Rafael to step easily on to the train. She rubbed her eyes and when she opened them, her long-time friend was waving back at her, grinning ear to ear as he pulled from the station.
Names: ♀ Brazil; ♂ Brazil