¯ omniverse [REALITIES] . . . . . . . . [NON]
captain [BRITAIN]. . . . . . . . . . . . [CANON]
¯ [More_Captains _ [01]
[Britain _ 1 [of ?]
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MORE CAPTAINS BRITAIN
CHAPTER 1
└ ┘
![](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/prue84/10082358/860064/860064_original.jpg)
[Photo by Igor Vitorino.]
DATAFILE: EARTH-3485
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Title: Northern Butterfly
Name: Eli'jabetha
Origins: Earth-3485
Seat: 3485
Tested: Yes
Choice: Amulet of Right
REALITY ANNOTATIONS
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Core designation: Universe-3485
Reality designation: The Four Goddesses
Type: Alternate reality
OVERVIEW
Reality in which balance is achieved only when four forces are
joined together at the top hierarchy.
Previously elder gods and ancient goddess safeguarded the
timeline existence maintaining the balance on the delicate
forces that make the fabric of the reality.
Recently, four mortal women have stepped up to preserve the
reality from Annihilation's return.
SUPERPOWERS STATUS
Existing: yes. (Origins unknown)
Mutants: existence unclear.
BIO OVERVIEW
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Full name (if applicable): Eli'jabetha of Jaamse
Powers: Telekinetic weapons. Merge and teleport through
shadows.
Other abilities: Advanced combat training. Advanced knight
training. Fencing.
Previous affiliation (if applicable): --
Red Queen, Lady of the Misty Lands. North of the magic circle,
mind powers translated into weapons as sturdy as her strong
will. Acclaimed hero, worshiped as a goddess, as the Purple
Butterfly is ruler and protector on one of the Four Queendoms.
![](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/prue84/10082358/860406/860406_original.jpg)
[Photo by Geebo Vigonte. See Annotations for resources and references.]
ABRIDGED BIO
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Scroll down for basic html reading.
Krakoa-styled reading available only through the links below.
FORMATTED WAY
Archive of Our Own.
SquidgeWorld.
CROSSPOSTED
Dreamwidth.
Tumblr.
BBCB ANNOTATIONS
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Eli'jabetha is soul-bonded to the Horseman of Death, a dangerous
winged ancient god with undisclosed powers created with the
specific mission to kill elder gods. It has yet to be proved if
she can tap into the Horseman of Death's powers or abilities,
including immortality.
They cannot be split and the Horseman of Death can take
control of Eli'jabetha's body, should she pass out or in case she is
critically wounded.
The Horseman of Death should not pose a danger to other
Captains unless Northern Butterfly's life is threatened, but they
are to be treated with caution. Confrontation is to be avoided.
Do not confuse with standard powers of Archangel (Warren
Worthington III) as Apocalypse's Horseman of Death. Despite the
same title, it is yet to be established if there is a relation
between the two roles.
Do not treat nor approach Horseman of Death as if they
were Earth-3485 version of Warren Worthington.
THE COUNCIL OF CAPTAIN BRITAIN
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THE PROJECT
For other chapters in the series, see the
masterpost.
NOTES ABOUT THE STORY
Since the post is already a very long textwall, these have
been collected at
this additional post.
[Expanded AU, page 1 of 1]
_ _
[abridged [READ] . . . . . . . . . . . . . full_fic]
[life story [MORE] . . . . . . . . . . . . . below]
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ABRIDGED BIO
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Eli'jabetha of Jaamse, daughter and sister of champions, is one of the most skillful and renowned warriors of the lands known to man. With extraordinary powers at her disposal, and a strong will to fuel them, she faces all kind of enemy that she perceives worthy of meeting her sword, striking down tyrants and warlords alike. Protector of the weak and champion of justice, she is a force to reckon with. No crime is left unpunished, and evil men fall under the sharp blade of her purple sword. Husband of wives and wife of husbands, her exquisite looks win her every heart - body of a knight and face of a princess, she roams to right wrongs and steal the heart of people who sing her feats.
Until a force greater than any other comes from a time before the world even existed. Father and mother of demons, wielder of dark energy, bringer of total destruction. A force bent on annihilate everything.
And in the dire threat, when humanity must take a stand before darkness descends to envelop everything in an endless night of cold silence, four women step up.
Jean'sje, fiery red locks and green eyes, a goddess reborn mortal, fire and life reincarnate, omega and alpha. Her mind abilities limitless, focused not on the delectable act of control minds but to defend and offend, hers a power that can raise oceans and fell even the mountains themselves. Capable of great compassion and equally great rage.
Erm'Ha, blond hair and silver lips, a sharp mind in a body of diamond, gray morality and willingness to walk on the bodies of lesser beings in order to ascend. Powers molded into the fine arts of control and shape minds, for to control what people think is to rule the world.
An-Mahr, white streaks on brown curly mane, unwilling thief, ability to absorb and drain the very essence of man and woman with a gentle kiss or the caress of a hand, doomed to never know the touch of a lover. Strong and invulnerable like a god, unstoppable in a fight, unbeaten by man or woman. The first to join the fray, scared of the loneliness that comes with the peace that follows.
And then Eli'jabetha, purple the color of eyes and braids, mind power focused on the outside, to shape weapons and shields alike, harder than any metal know to man, sturdier than anything a smith could ever hope to create, her will the only limit, strong emotions what make the wings of her butterfly beat.
Different as night and day, sun and moon, dawn and dusk, fire and ice. Two warriors, two leaders. Two in the tick of the battle, two guiding and planning strategies. Four souls, united by exceptional powers and unlimited courage, each bringing her own skills to the battlefield, each of them leading a vast army of brave warriors. Rivalries and frictions put aside for a common goal: to protect the world from the one who is a force old as the universe itself, returned from the past to conquer the very future. And humanity soon groups behind them, chosen and elected to lead the mortal world in its greatest battle.
Hordes of daemons crash against the lines made of brave humans, soldiers and knights like ancient walls standing against the very passing of time, a wall to divide civilization from brutality, to protect. For years the war is fought, light standing against night, life against death, peace against chaos.
Against all odds, humanity pushes back. The four women, fueled by the devastating force of their uncanny abilities, win the humans many battles. But not even their combined powers can stop the forces of Annihilation from destroying everything. Mortals are slave to death, daemons are endless and come with the destructive impetus of an titanic ocean tide that hits the cliff until the solid rock falls apart. Untouched by the passing of time, they need no respite.
But behind the army that emerges from the portal, the primordial force awaits to enter the plane of mortal existence, Its dark tendrils already reaching out, Its dark lightnings shaking the skies.
Humanity stands, strong as a wall made of diamond itself. But it won't stand forever against Annihilation. Only a force from the past, a force that transcends time and death, can stop the force that felled gods.
An Apocalypse is necessary, to fight the Annihilation.
The elder god prophesied it. On the brink of defeat, when the creatures that come from a nightmare dimension are about to overcome the last resistance from the mortals, four warriors will awake the Four Horsemen and secure the world. Imprisoned in an endless sleep, foretold to rouse when existence itself will be threatened again in a time when humanity will have outgrown gods. The last legacy of the benevolent and ruthless ancient force called Apocalypse, the enemy of the Annihilation.
The Horsemen ask for an host, a soul is required for them to each stay anchored. A soul is the price they demand for their help. Four Horseman, four souls.
When the lines are about to fail, four women leave the battlefield to win humanity their supreme victory. The last stand against complete destruction, four women agree to the ultimate sacrifice.
Such is the price for the victory. Not a life for a life, not to give up a remaining mortal time to pay the tribute to the balance of magic. For to raise the Horsemen, four people will agree to sell their souls to these mysterious forces of destruction, and then sentenced to live the rest of their existence in the world bound to creatures that do not belong to humanity anymore.
In a temple forgotten by mortals, relic of gods that have long since left the plane, the sacred quincunx is completed, ancient magic is evoked. United to form the x, the four women accept to link their life forces and perform the ritual. Their uncanny abilities forever changed, chains that shackled them forever broken, four women who traveled the desert return to the battlefield, goddesses between men - Horsewomen against the Annihilation. Blood lust blinds them, they awaken from blessed darkness to lands leveled by unlimited powers, the once battlefield forever a land where life will never blossom again.
The hordes turned into a mist, the primordial force once again repelled, and the portal destroyed. Humanity is saved, and the four women are brought in celebration, the four champions of the world, four queens to ascend and establish the Balance of the X, the circuitry that protects the reality from any threat that might come from another time and place.
Split into four parts, the world is thus domain of the four women, crowne queens to rule the land until time will come to claim them.
Jean'sje, the East, the Black Queen, protector of the Eastern Lands, where the Sun is born anew each day.
An-Mahr, the South, the Green Queen, champion of the Southern Lands, where the Sun brights the shiniest.
Erm'Ha, the West, the White Queen, ruler of the Western Lands, where the Sun comes to die.
Eli'jabetha, the North, ascends as the Red Queen, hers the Northern Lands, domain of the darkness of a sky deprived of the light of the Sun.
The force of Annihilation is won and the world saved. There is only time to celebrate, and celebrations are held, the four queen are bathed in richness no man could even imagine, luxuriant palaces in which to indulge their inner and most darkest desires. Men and women in their bed, eager to please them, like slaves offering themselves to goddesses.
And goddesses they now are. They haven't acquired immortality, nor they have transcended, but they are worshiped as such.
The intoxicating rush of power, the tainting adulation, to be allowed everything, each of their wishes met, they do not ask themselves what has been of the Horsemen, why they awoke alone on the waste land that once had been the greatest battlefield of history of humanity. Why the ritual was deemed successful by the Druid who had been awaiting for them in the temple, but no Horsemen appeared to help them.
They have never wondered. No witness to tell what happened on the battlefield, the growing certainty that it was theirs powers and theirs alone to achieve them the final victory, theirs the powers that destroyed the hordes of demons and banished the primordial force in the dimension where It came from.
But the corruption has started. The driving forces of the Four Horsemen lay dormant in the four queens. Pestilence, Famine, War and the greatest of them all, Death.
And as the White Queen feels the coldness of a dragon ice spirit to reach out to her and add the element manipulation to her ability to become of diamond, the Black Queen her opposite in the Balance of the X is burned by the embrace of an avian spirit of fire and can envelope herself in the fire shape of a bird of prey. And as in the Green Queen awakens a power to command light energies as strong as the ones burning in the stars that dot the skies, the skin burning bright as if she were a Sun herself, the Red queen feels herself able to tap into black energy, tendrils of darkness painting her skin black as the shadows themselves, with which she can blend in to emerge elsewhere.
When the time is come, the Horsemen reveal themselves. A reflection in a mirror, a voice in the head, an instinct that can override anything else. Evanescent shapes to represent their true meaning. But they can take solid form, if so they desire. They can remove their Celestial armors to be mortal-like, if they fancy it.
And so they appear. Pestilence, white hair and skin as black as the very darkness of the cosmos, his breath poisonous and his weapons cards that can destroy matter; Gambit, is called, and his are the lips that don't fear the stealing touch of the deadly kiss of the Green Queen. Famine, red ruby eyes perpetually hidden behind a visor and crimson skin transparent like a gem, the concussive force that destroys nourishment and force a body to nourish on itself; Cyclops was named, he's the one who seduces the aloof White Queen. War, layered in silver and eyes of fire, spirit of battle incarnate, three indestructible claws on each hand, and master of any weapon and fighting technique ever used by man, the last one standing; the Wolverine is the moniker he chose for himself, and his bestiality draws to Black Queen, luring her to burn her wings and descend into a darkness of emotions and perversion. Death, the force that ends it all, giant wings on his back, each feather the sharpest blade ever created, his power to cull the weak from the strong, to offer the finality of eternal sleep to those who are found lacking; Archangel is the title he wears, he is the one the Red Queen sees in the mirror instead of her own reflection.
But Death is different that the three other Horsemen. He remembers his past, he remembers the times of the goddesses, he has met the benevolent god that turns kings into slaves, that captures the light to turn it into darkness. He has known the men who were turned into the force of destruction of the Apocalypse, when they still were saddled with the hurdles of mortality. He isn't like them. He was no mortal, when the Apocalypse sealed them all in the temple, to be entrusted to the future in which they would raise to fight. A god himself, he was, chosen as the most favorite son of the Apocalypse, heir to his throne. He isn't slave to low instincts such as sexual desire, he has been cured by the weakness the mortals call love.
And if Pestilence, Famine and War can discover in themselves the flutter of mortal emotions, remnants of a time where peace was granted by the four goddesses, Death remains cold as dead is supposed to be. Erm'Ha, superior to any man and woman that ever dared to cross her path, finds a worthy lover in the spirit incarnated in Cyclops, awakening the great fire stoked under the layer of stoicism. Jean'sje's fire meets an equal fire in the Wolverine, and they burn together with no remorse. Anne-Marie surrenders to the bold seductions of Gambit, allowing a man to finally claim her body as Pestilence has claimed her soul. Eli'jabetha has to learn to survive the coldness of a spirit that overcame mortality by ascending to godhood, one who took the skies with goddesses and loved and was loved by one.
But Eli'jabetha is nothing but stubborn and strong-willed. The coldness meets the burning fiery of the butterfly. And Death is reminded of another, someone with the shape of a woman but not bound to earth by mere mortality, the goddess he once belonged to - the Goddess of the Storm. The one who failed to protect him when he was stripped of his very ability, forever doomed to stay bound to earth, and failed to accept his change when he sold his tortured soul to the Apocalypse in turn to be healed. The one who first and last was his companion, the kindred spirit of freedom that understood his need to fly and his longing for the skies.
And thus the fortress of ice that is the heart of the Death is laid siege.
*
The test comes to Eli'jabetha in dream. Her mind one with the Horseman she is soulbound to, the Archangel is with her, a still shadow, massive and powerful as one of the ancient druid stones, draped in his own wings like a sharp cocoon, only his red eyes shining in the darkness. He doesn't speak, still and silent like an ancient statue, he sees everything. He does not perceive maliciousness from the spirit who offers the choice, and so he does not speak - silent witness of a ceremony as ancient as time itself.
Tempted is Eli'jabetha's hand, her spirit torn. The Sword of Might whispers to the Queen, speaks to the woman who wished to set right every wrong, to erase crime before is planned, violence fought with violence. The Amulet of Right murmurs to her most noble heart, reassuring promises, images of a virtuous hero, a knight worthy to be respected and stand near other heroes.
Eli'jabetha has a dark streak in her, one that predates her soulbinding to the spirit of Death - perhaps the reason why she, out of four resting caskets, was drawn to the one protecting the sleep of the last Horseman. Her heart is lured by the cold finality that Archangel brings with him. But she has the strength to refuse the Sword and pick the Amulet instead.
Thus, with the title of Northern Butterfly, she is chosen as a champion of her timeline, hers the honor to represent her world at the Court of the Captain Britain Corps and protect the Omniverse alongside others who share her same title.
She now divides her loyalties between the people who crowned her queen, and fellow Eli'jabethas in the greater battlefield that is the Omniverse.
Archangel is always with her, their bond stronger than the walls of space and time itself, ready to come to her aid and even command her own body, should she be in dire danger and unconscious.
The battle for the heart of the Archangel has yet to be won, but Eli'jabetha is confident in her warrior abilities and his won't become the first fortress she doesn't manage to fell - cracks in the millennial walls are already threatening their stability, and light is already filtering inside. She doesn't lack time nor endurance: she's positive that, sooner, she will prevail and even a god will have to admit defeat to her. And then she will be able to peel away the Archangel of Death, to reveal the Angel of Life laying beneath.
She can't wait.