Character Story

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    Naiya Dyani


    Yup, I’m here, too! I know. . . I’ve been taking forever on my characters’ next parts. DX Life has been crazy. But it is very much on my radar! I’m so sorry!

    Hearts are like matter--they can be beaten down, torn, and burned, but they cannot be destroyed.


    @naiya-dyani @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @kayla-skywriter

    I am sooo sorry that this took soo long. Hope you enjoy! *is biting nails*


    The youth braced himself and gritted his teeth as Megyn pulled his leg into her lap. Carefully loosening the knot on the make-shift bandage, she eased the cloth from his leg, laid it aside and began to examine the wound.Though the bandage had slowed the bleeding, blood was still pooling in the wound. And, though she couldn’t see the best in dim, amber torchlight, she could feel where the bullet was lodged with her fingertips.

    Snatching a thick pad from her kit, she pressed it over the wound with the palm of one hand while supporting the limb with the other arm.

    She glanced up towards his face, only to bite her lip in pity. His face was ashen. His mouth was twisted, as though holding back a cry of pain.

    Giving him a pityingly look, she let her eyes seek the floor. Her lips twisted. Thoughts crowded into her head as she closed her eyes. For several moments, she sat still lost in thought. . .

    The torch above her hissed and flickered. Shaking her head, she dropped her gaze to her hands as she lifted the pad and checked the wound. The bleeding had stopped.

    A soft sigh of relief escaped her as she reached into her kit for her tools. As she laid them out, one by one, her mind ticked through procedure.

    First extract the bullet and any shrapnel, without –  She bit her lip –  severing any major blood vessels.

    Then clean it out, and pack it with – she winced at the thought as she removed the bloody pad and laid it aside – what little packing I have left.

    Dress it – She shed her gray coat and rolled up her sleeves.

    “Lord,” she prayed barely above a whisper, “Please guide my hands.”

    She reached for the scalpel and a pair of forceps.

    *    *    *    *    *

    The torch on the wall above Megyn flickered and smoked as she wrapped the last length of cloth around the youth’s leg and secured it in place.

    With a sigh, she blinked her eyes and then wiped them with the back of her hand. As she let her hand rest on the floor, they focused on the youth. The tears had dried in streaks on his face. His skin had blanched even paler. His eyes stared almost unseeing into the ceiling.

    One tear slid down her cheek as his cries of pain reverberated in her head. He tried not to scream she thought But the pain –

    Gently cradling his leg in her hands, she laid it on the floor. She scooted up to head, wiping the blood from her hands onto a cloth as she did. Turning to her backpack, she slipped a handkerchief from a small side pouch. Leaning over him, she carefully sponged away the sweat and the tears from his face.

    “Are you done?” a gruff voice asked.

    Megyn twisted around. The Tower Warden stood just to her left. Two prison guards  flanked him on each side, their forms casting long, foreboding shadows.

    “Yes, Sir,” She replied regretfully.

    One of the guards stepped forward and grabbed the youth by his arms.

    “Take him to the interrogation room,” his partner directed him, yanking open a door behind them.

    He nodded as hauled the youth up. “We’re ready.”

    Springing up, Megyn slipped her arm around the youth and assisted him to his feet. As the guard swung him around, she whispered in his ear, “Good-bye. I won’t forget you.”

    The next moment he was gone, hustled away by the guards into the interrogation room. She stood still, watching as the door swung closed behind them, listening as the lock clicked into place.

    Looking down, her eyes locked onto smeared blood on the floor. Her lips pressed shut as she closed her eyes. I won’t forget. I couldn’t. I remember every one. Every face . . .

    Swinging around, she opened her eyes and knelt beside her backpack. Wiping her eyes with her hand again, she began to gather up her supplies.

    A footstep sounded on the floor behind her. “Do you need assistance?”

    She glanced up as she snapped the lid of her medic kit closed. “No, thank you, Warden,” she declined with a shake of her head.

    He nodded as she placed the kit in her pack and zipped the pack shut. As she rolled down her sleeves, he stooped and picked up her coat from the floor.

    She nodded gratefully to him and held out her arms. Silence reigned as he helped her put it on and handed her the backpack.

    “Thank you, Warden.” She said as she swung it to her shoulder.

    He nodded and extended a hand. “Goodnight, Agent Harris. Do you need an escort back to the city?”

    “No, I’ll be fine.” She replied as she shook his hand.

    Swallowing, she asked quietly, “What will be done with him?”

    “He’ll be interrogated until we know what he was doing out there and why. From there,any punishment will have to be determined by the Courts,” he answered simply.

    She nodded and saluted as her heart twisted within her chest. “Goodnight, Warden. “

    He nodded and saluted. Stepping to the door opening to the entry, he opened it and held it for her.

    Megyn passed through it with a nod and a smile. But as its closing thud echoed behind her, the professional smile faded. Her eyes, filled with sadness as they fixed their gaze on the floor.

    As she slowly walked across the room, her steps echoed softly and hauntingly around her. But her thoughts rang loud like alarms bells in her head.

    If only he weren’t a prisoner, she wished as she bowed her head. He needs rest and warmth, not an interrogation in cold, dismal prison.

    A sigh left her lips as she approached the two porters at the courtyard door. But he is a prisoner. And I can’t change that.     

    She saluted the porters. Silently, they saluted back and opened the door for her. As she stepped into the dark courtyard, she sighed. All I could do is my best. And pray. she thought as the echoes of her steps faded away.

    The bitter cold rushed up and surrounded her. The wind howled in from the wilderness and pushed against her. Blackness fell about her as clouds blocked out the moon.

    Her face turned to the Tower, a symbol of darkness. Among it’s bars, the flames of torches burned, bright against the dark.

    “Hope.” she whispered. ” ‘Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the LORD.’ ”

    She faced into the wind. With squared shoulders she strode ahead toward the outer gate.

    Movement caught her eye. Turning her head, she made out the silhouette of a large, fluffy dog in the shadows. His fur ruffled in the wind as he turned his head and looked at her.

    She paused as she realized That’s the dog that was with the youth who helped me!

    There he was, his face buried in the dog’s fur and his arms wrapped around his neck.

    I never got a chance to thank him.  And he seems . . . sad and lonely.  

    Changing her course, she approached a few feet, then stood still and held out her hand towards the dog.

    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.

    Naiya Dyani

    @Dakota *heart breaks* I’m planning on working on the next part(s) today!

    Hearts are like matter--they can be beaten down, torn, and burned, but they cannot be destroyed.


    @naiya-dyani Okay, sounds good. *tearfully*

    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.

    Naiya Dyani

    @Dakota @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @urwen-starial @mayacat @esmeralda-gramilton @kayla-skywriter

    Okay, got three new parts done!


    Gerik took off down the alley, seeing nothing but the broken concrete right in front of him. Those idiots, he thought, gritting his teeth. They’ve jeopardized the whole organization like this. Tears stung his eyes as memories flooded back.

    The fire. Dad. Mom. Miya.

    His seven-year-old sister’s frightened cries. Her eyes. And the eyes of the man who killed her.

    Just like that boy’s.

    He slammed his fist into the brick wall of the building beside him. He regretted it a moment later, but as he rubbed his hand, the bitterness remained, whirling and festering inside him.

    Suddenly, hands clamped on his arms. He was spun around roughly to face two men with mockingbirds over their hearts. One yanked Gerik’s jacket into the moonlight. “Sparrow.” He wrenched Gerik’s hands behind his back. “You’re coming with us.”
    I won’t forget you.

    Kiet clung to the kind woman’s words as the officers dragged him into the interrogation room. She reminds me of someone else. . . someone I knew. Someone who gave me comfort when my life was dark.


    All memories fled from his mind as the officers threw him into a chair before a table. A tall, broad-shouldered man sat on the other side, narrowing his fierce eyes at him.

    Kiet’s heart pounded as he met the man’s eyes. His hands grew sweaty. I can’t do this. I’ll give it away. I’ll betray him. His stomach clenched. And I know what that feels like. I don’t want to! But how? I’m a terrible liar. Especially when I’m scared. . .

    Then don’t lie.

    Kiet’s heart twisted. God, he prayed, please. . . please help me. I’m not strong enough for this. I’m scared they’ll get me to tell. But—I can’t turn him in. Please. . . I don’t know how, but keep me from—

    One of the officers dropped a knife on the table. “Found this in the alleyway. Might have something to do with it.”

    Kiet’s eyes widened at the sight of the blade. His hand pressed against the scars on his right cheek. “No,” he murmured. He tried to breathe deeply, but the breaths came faster and faster as his vision tunneled. He shut his eyes, curling into a ball in his seat, not even noticing the shooting pain in his leg. “No—no. . .”

    Men spoke around him, but he didn’t hear them. The only thing he heard, the only thing he saw or felt, were the ghosts of his memories.
    Kedori looked up as the woman held a hand out to Pasha. His heart started pounding. What if she tries to talk to me? he thought. What will I say? She’s a mockingbird. What if she can tell—that I want to get Kiet out? He swallowed hard. Maybe. . . maybe she’ll ignore it when she finds out I’m deaf. He sighed. I’ve never wanted to be ignored for that before. But I want it now.

    • This reply was modified 4 years, 2 months ago by Naiya Dyani.
    • This reply was modified 4 years, 2 months ago by Naiya Dyani.

    Hearts are like matter--they can be beaten down, torn, and burned, but they cannot be destroyed.

    Emberynus The Dragonslayer

    @naiya-dyani @dakota

    Good work guys! Thumbs up!

    Sold souls and dead promises


    @emberynus-the-dragonslayer Thanks!

    That was great (tear-jerkingly great I mean.) Good job!

    So, I guess Rob should stay with Gamma 6.5. Because, if he followed Gerik and saw what happened, he would get involved, which could get messy. And also, he probably would want to be filled in on a few things.

    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.

    Kayla Skywriter

    @dakota @naiya-dyani

    Great job to both of you.  Should I do a part for Pasha? In this situation he’d be most likely to not trust Megyn and try to keep her away from Kedori, but he’d mostly just wait for Kedori to make a move.

    Just let me know.

    How we chose to fight is just as important as what we fight for


    @kayla-skywriter Thanks!

    That’s understandable and I’m totally fine with it. Probably it would be a good idea to do a part for him if you want to.


    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.

    Naiya Dyani

    @kayla-skywriter Sure, have at it!

    Hearts are like matter--they can be beaten down, torn, and burned, but they cannot be destroyed.

    Kayla Skywriter

    @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @naiya-dyani @dakota @mayacat @esmeralda-gramilton

    Okay here’s Pasha’s part.

    There was a hand in front of his face, and it smelled of blood and fear. It was rank with the pain of far too many people. A low growl escaped from Pasha’s throat and the hand jerked back. His hackles rose and the young woman shrank back.

    Pasha sized her up. She was rather small, especially compared to the men he used to serve with. If Pasha decided to jump up on her he was sure he’d reach her shoulders. There was no doubt in his mind that he could take her down, not that he wouldn’t try to take down a giant if his boy told him to. Still, she wouldn’t be much of a problem.

    The dog and the young woman stared at each other. Pasha almost daring her to try something. If he provoked her she might turn on him instead of his boy. But the young woman didn’t try anything. She seemed hesitant, not particularly threatening. Why didn’t his boy just tell Pasha to stand down if she wasn’t a threat?

    But Pasha couldn’t stand down, he stepped forward and widened the gap between the two young people. Pasha looked back to his boy with a “what now” kind of look. There was only so much a dog could do on his own.

    Hope that works for everyone. And I’m sorry to put so much on you Naiya, Pasha just can’t handle it all.

    How we chose to fight is just as important as what we fight for


    @kayla-skywriter  @naiya-dyani  That works for me. 🙂


    The dog sniffed her hand, then growled. Megyn jerked her hand back as instinctive quivers rushed up and down her spine.

    The next moment his hackles rose. Slowly she backed up a few steps, keeping her eyes locked in that of the dog’s.

    He advanced forward, widening the gap between her and the boy. Logically he’s a protection for his master, but why so must hostility?  she wondered

    It’s the blood, she realized, Your hand probably smells like blood. Just hold your ground and don’t do anything to provoke him. A dog this size could easily kill you.

    She stood still and kept her gaze locked with his, trying not to seem threatening without showing an unhealthy amount of fear.

    The dog looked back at his master, as though awaiting a command.  Megyn pressed her lips together, eyes glancing from boy to dog.


    Rob shook his head again and heaved a deep sigh, then turned to Gamma 6.5. “Sorry about that – uhem – outburst.” He held out a hand. “I’m Eagle, Rob Eagle, by the way.”

    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.


    @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @naiya-dyani @dakota @kayla-skywriter @esmeralda-gramilton @urwen-starial

    Hi guys! I’m so so so so sorry I haven’t been participating and writing lately! I feel really badly, but I’ve been caught up with one of my WIPs and I haven’t had the time or energy to finish the last part I was working on, plus life in general has been crazy lately.

    Once again, I’m so so sorry!

    I’m hoping to finish a part for Rin soon and post it maybe today or tomorrow. I think part of why I’ve also not written is because I feel a sense of duty to write at least two pages every part. I’ve realized that it’s okay if I only write a couple paragraphs sometimes too.

    So thanks for your patience! Love you all!


    I do not write the story... the Universe writes the story and I am simply its messenger.


    @mayacat It’s okay! Have fun writing. 🙂

    Psalm 119:11
    Your word I have hidden in my heart,
    That I might not sin against You.

    Esmeralda Gramilton

    @emberynus-the-dragonslayer @dakota @naiya-dyani @urwen-starial @mayacat @kayla-skywriter

    I sincerely hope I’m not bothering anyone by tagging them. If I am, please say so.

    I finally sat down and told myself “Stop procrastinating, or you’ll never feel like doing this ever again.” and decided I’m going to write a part here. It’s been ages since I’ve posted!
    All of this is off the top of my head and completely unrevised, and I haven’t looked over my notes on this story for a while, so if anything is inaccurate or doesn’t make sense, feel free to say something. In fact, please do, so I can fix it.

    Alright, let’s see if this works.


    Wes pulled his jacket a little tighter around him to keep out the cold, sighing.

    Winter was getting close again, and nature seemed determined to prove it. The sky had remained gray and cloudy for the past few days, with a constant chilling wind.

    “If only we were living someplace warmer,” Wes muttered to himself. “Then we’d have longer summers and a better chance of growing food. Probably more animals, too.”

    He reluctantly brought his notebook out of his bag, almost wishing he’d picked a warmer day to be out. But the Sparrow project was important, and he wasn’t about to pass up the chance.

    Wes watched as the sun rose over the rooftops. Nearly six o’clock. People would be waking up soon, if they hadn’t already. If he headed to the center of the ninth sector now, he could probably catch a lot of people as they headed off for the day.

    It could be perfect.

    He adjusted his fingerless gloves and started off.

    Callia Raymi sat on the rooftop of the Quill’s base in the ninth sector. She came every morning, because it was the perfect spot to see the sun come up.

    Besides, a little quiet was nice compared to the busy streets of the afternoon.

    Callia loved people, but everyone needed alone time once in a while, and as a reporter for the Quill, she didn’t get a lot of it.

    “You know, every morning the sunrise is different,” Callia said to herself. “It never looks the same, just like, well, everything in nature. So unique. . .” She sighed fondly, then laughed. “I mean, of course I know that! Sometimes I forget I’m talking to myself.”

    She stood up, brushing a bit of dust off her white tunic.

    “Well, Callia,” she murmured. “It’s about time to start, isn’t it? I have to get through this entire sector by seven thirty today, so I can take the afternoon off.”

    She climbed carefully to the edge of the building and down the ladder, her satchel thumping against her side.

    “Ready, Callia?” She asked herself. “Remember, like everything in nature, today will be different.”

    I wonder what I was thinking whenever I re-read my old, well-loved stories

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