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@this-is-not-an-alien

Yeah, I’m gonna stick with Calvin profile images until I get bored of them.

(Highly unlikely)

Or until they don’t even tangentially fit me and my writing.

(More likely)

 

Anyway, here’s the character I’m dropping…

 

Burn Nocturne

Age: early 20s. He doesn’t care to keep track.

Personality: Teetering on the edge of insanity. Unpredictable. Deliberately keeps his distance from people. A jerk with no heart of gold but an admittedly soft spot for small children. Extremely selfish and slowly reaching the very uncomfortable realization that maybe he doesn’t want to be. Has finally met people who won’t take his bad attitude lying down and yet they also won’t leave him alone? This has interested him enough he’s actually sticking around.

Appearance: angular, sharp, bitter, scar across right ear. mild vitiligo with a noticeable patch on his left cheek. Scar across his right ear. Rough voice from heavy smoking. Blind. Wears a blindfold over his scars. Lean and mean. Does not eat enough.

Talent (super-power): Smoke Manipulation. Uses this to “see” and can weaponize it. Tries to never let his smoke-cloud dissipate so there’s always enough to “see” and fight with.

World: Diplopia. A nation / country in the center of the earth. An Orb brightens or dims for a sort-of night/day cycle. However, it’s only present in the central chamber – the most notable settlment there is the Five Hives, a floating city that nomads scornfully call the “OverRealm.” In the branch caverns there is Blue Moss which is bioluminescent. The caverns are highly unstable and ever-changing. There are about 12 stable zones outside the Center and all these are settled and almost micro-kingdoms. Nomadic tribes live in the Shifting Zones. There is a high level of crime outside the Center and Stable Zones. The Shifting Zones are inhabited by Cold Shadows, mysterious monsters that prey on the people living in Diplopia.

 

Excerpt from his novel (working title, Brand of the Crypt. VERY likely to change.)

I learned a lot from that idiot, lizard-saving punk.

There. I said it.

Not that it means much to you.

Ya see, I was minding my own bus… okay, okay, so I had thrown a few rocks at some Shads* for the Abyss of it. I mean, fella’s gotta do something for entertainment on a long, boring mission, right?

Anyway, they finally caught my scent and … well… that chased me.

I mean, I could get ahead of them, sure, but they are endurance predators! They just have to keep going when I stop.

So, I was looking for a way to trap them or at least muddy my scent.

Ya’know, it was a pretty normal day, honestly.

Right up until the punk landed smack on top of me.

I mean, why kind of idiot leans over a bridge like that?! Especially in the mid-levels! Towers in a flooded tunnel!

Well, I did what anyone would do. I picked myself up and told the punk EXACTLY what I thought.

She sorta hung her head and shuffled her feet.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

Maybe I shoulda been a little kinder in my response. It wouldn’t have cost me anything. Orb’s light! Even something like “nothing but my pride” would have been better than what I said.

Well, after showing my true colors, I decided it was time to skedaddle.  I mean, the shadows don’t stop when you stop!

“Wait!  I’m lost!” she called.  The punk!  “Can you help me?”

“Look punk, I am on a literal deadline.  If you want ta jabber, do it on the run.”  I interrupted, because I’m nice like that. And I pushed her forward until we were finally out of the narrow hallway.

“Watch out for the ladder.” I blew a cloud of smoke and listen to her cough.

“Those things will destroy your lungs.” She said.

“Hm. Well, I’m blind punk, and my trait is smoke manipulation, and I’m a ranger. You do the math.”

“You should have gotten a safer job then.” She grumbled.

I felt the trimmer of thousands of heartbeats from the living rocks. This was not a good place to be in – but I would have some ammo, so that’s something.

I got the punk up the ladder and then kicked it.

(Solidly bolted if you were wondering.)

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” I muttered around another cloud of smoke.

The hall was narrow, but I squeezed past her. Then I grabbed her arm and pulled her behind me, billowing as much smoke as I could. I lost some of my cloud to the chit-chat. Darn it! I needed enough to fill a chamber if I was gonna “see” it.

I kinda hoped the gal would confuse my scent. But I had a feeling that was a no.

Well, there was one thing that would get their attention.

Anyway, I was gonna loose her as soon as I found her, right?

So, anyways, I said, “Punk, you gonna either keep up with me or be Shadow food.” I said that being the oh-so-generous punk I am.

She nodded at me, sorta terrified ya’know and said, “Don’t worry, I’m good at keeping up.”

I laughed and started smoking again. Considered setting a fire, and dismissed it. I didn’t have the time – more accurately, I lost it (and my smoke) due to this punk…

“Punk, Ya’gonna have to do better with me. I’m fast and angry and have enemies and a mission.”

“I can see that.” She said and I could feel her wince as soon as the words left her mouth.

Heh, at least she can be as thoughtless as me.

I smoked the room, confirming it was clear of traps and other obstacles.

She was quiet a long moment – to the point it was getting depressing. So I opened my mouth.

“Ya’gotta handle?”

“A what?”

“A name, punk. Do you have a name?”

“You could say that.” She said.

Well, I laughed.

Then frowned a little as I felt my smoke spread into a wide gap.

“We’re coming to a pit. You’re gonna hafta jump across at full speed. Roll so you don’t hurt yourself.”

I put on some extra speed and leaped. The gap was bigger than last time – danged Shads – and I almost fell. My roll wasn’t graceful.

I stopped an instant to see if the punk made it.

She was a good jumper even then. Rolled to her feet all graceful and we both took off.

“So, what can I call you punk?”

“You seem to have already decided.”

I could feel the Shadows getting closer – freezing fingers crawling at the back of my neck that screamed “DANGER! DANGER!”

“Well, I call everyone punk.” I was mostly true when I said that.  I could count on one hand the number of people I hadn’t called punk. Well, back then that is.

(Three.  That would be three if you want to know.)

From the shape of my smoke, there was a chamber ahead of us.

It was time to confront one of the many perils of the midlevel Edgelands. The more open the space, the narrower the path. Dizzy bridges with deadly drops. In some areas you could only walk one step, heel to toe, and part of your foot would hang over the edge.

And I had to cross, punk or no.

“Punk.” I said, “You need to do as I do and step where I step.”

And I’ll actually be honest – calling the thing we crossed a “narrow bridge” was generous. It was actually a series of slightly safer steps between you-will-fall-through-and-die steps.  Slow work.  But good for getting things off your tail.  If you know what you are doing.

I did. And I had smoke on my side. Especially since – luck of luck – a coal-fire burned in a fissure not too far below us. Who knew how long it had been burning, but it wasn’t there when I ran through last month.

“Take the right tunnel if you don’t want to come.” I said because, hey, I actually was not completely heartless even then.

Okay, so I wanted her to chicken out.  But I didn’t wish her dead, even if my knees were still smarting and I would be feeling her tumble in my shoulder for the nest Orb cycle.

Half-way across I felt the step crack.  I flinched and fell forward, grabbing one of the steps.  I dug my claws in.

“Stop!” I called.  I heard her freeze and good thing.  The step wouldn’t take any more weight. I gingerly slid forward and stood.

“When I go to the next step, jump.” I said.

“Will you catch me?” Punk sounded really pathetic.

“Jump.” I said.

She did.  Like I said, punk was a good jumper.  Hope she still is.

She landed hard, but it was easy to pull her a step forward.  The new trick was to get ahead before what was left collapsed.

I didn’t explain.  And I didn’t need to.  We ran.  She kept her hand clenched in my shirt and we cleared the last steps right as they gave.

“I hate this place.” Punk said.  It was a wheezy whisper.  She was one her hands and knees.

I actually kinda felt sorry for her.

“Well.” I said.  “It’s about to finish shifting.  So I don’t know what’s ahead.”

Okay, this is the fun part about the Edgelands.  I don’t care what anyone else says.  One moment, you can know a floor like the back of your hand.  The next WHAM!  Whole new floor.  It evolves more than my self-worth.

I plunged ahead, humming softly.  I tensed when the punk fell in behind me.

“So punk, how long ya gonna stay?” I asked.

I could feel her noncommittal shrug.

I probably said something nasty to her.  I really don’t remember.  I just know I have a mouth.

Punk tensed up, but if that bridge didn’t run her off, I was pretty sure I couldn’t SAY something that get her gone.

“So punk, if you’re gonna stick, I have exactly one rule.” I could feel her right behind me.  “Every man for himself.”

She slumped in on herself again.

“I have my pace and I keep my pace.  I ain’t changing for a random punk.” I shrugged.  “And I don’t expect a random punk to change for me.”

She brightened a bit.  “So, no rules against talking?”

“Situation dependent.  As long as Shads aren’t around.”

“Shads?”

“The Shadows.  Don’t know what you fancy OverRealmers call them.” I said. (A lie, I do.)  I froze as the sound-waves bounced back to me.

Punk bumped into me.  I heard her gasp.

I hadn’t been in a place like this before.  An open space, the floor covered in spikes of all sizes.  Spear big to needle tiny.  A frantic chirping echoed through the chamber

“You have a plan?” punk asked.

I did.  “Stay close to the wall.  Go to the exit.”  I crept forward.

“What exit?”

Don’t know how she couldn’t see it – since, ya’know, she actually still had eyes – but it was right across the room.

Apparently, punk didn’t look for escape.  She looked for cave critters.

“That lizard is stuck.”  Then punk was squeezing her way to the center of the room, heedless of life and limb, to rescue a hissing, snapping, sharp-toothed, thankless beast.

I left her to it and tip-toed to the door.  I can feel the living stones sucking the air – and my smoke – desperate for food.

I pulled my smoke away from all walls, ‘sept the right. A landslide perched precariously on a creaking ledge under a gaping hole in the ceiling and above a severely cracking floor.  One wrong bump or loud noise and the remains of the chamber roof will become the chamber floor.  And probably not this chamber’s floor.

As I was not interested in seeing how many floors down this horrible trap will bring me, I slipped right through the exit…

Right as the punk goes “OW!”

The punk jumped back, sucking her thumb.

“The place is rigged to collapse.” I warned and I went my way.

There was a soft whisper of the Shads. The thin, skeleton ones with whispery screams that suck the life outta ya and the cold aura that – sometimes literally mind you – froze you in place.

“Wait!” I heard her scream. “Th-they’re here!” she whimpered.  “Don’t leave me.”

I smoked behind me – the room was a chaos of information:  Shads already a quarter of the way across the room punk hunkered in the middle, prying at the rocky thorns, lizard screaming squeaky war cries.

It kinda struck me as funny.  The Place had given me a perfect trap.  Even baited my bait.

Punk fell forward as a Shad launched beside her.  She was shielding the lizard.  Of course, she was.

I bent and picked up a huge, warm rock.

“RUN!” I roared as I hurled the living rock.  It smashed perfectly at the rickety “keystone” of the ledge.

When the rumbling was over, I went on.  If punk wanted to follow, she would.  And she did.

After letting the hissing beast go.

I waited a moment before asking.  “Why in Spires would you save something that bit you?”

After a pause, after hearing the last rumbles of the room behind us, the punk finally replied.

“It couldn’t help its nature.”

It kinda stuck in an odd way. I’m still parsing through that explanation, honestly.

“My name’s Burn Nocturne. What’s yours.” I hold out my hand for her to shake.

“… You can call me Search Loremaster.” I felt her smile.

“That’s not your real name is it?”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’ cheerfully.

 

Ha. she’s a funny OverRealmer.  I learned so much from that punk.

I hope she’s alright.