Fantasy Writers

Character Castle 2.5

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    Nithel glanced behind his shoulder, brows quirked. ‘Snake’ or ‘Serpent’ was looking at Nithel; he wondered about the parents, that would name their child such.


    Hehe…somehow I knew you’d catch that.


    Also, who names their child snake? Wait a minute, the origins for the word Nathair were connected to the Latin term natrix, translating to water snake or water serpent. And the alternative translation for Nathair was also serpent. In eastern cultures, water serpents (dragons) were considered beneficial entities. Instead of being associated with fire, like western dragons, eastern dragons, which strongly resembled serpents, were said to have power over water. Many people in eastern cultures portrayed dragons as guardians of the heavens, who could bring bountiful harvests and magnificent riches.


    You cheated you Googled it didn’t you!?!



    The man looked at Nathair a little quizzically, he could already feel himself being assessed, judged. He was used to that, so incredibly used to it. That was the basis of human interaction, wasn’t it? Judging, assessing how useful every individual is, how you can get the most out of them, what to say or do around them to stay on their best side, prospecting to see what you can get out of them.

    Sure, he could be imagining it.

    But certainly, no one ever looked at him with confidence. That was something else Alessio had that he didn’t have; the ability to be seen as trustworthy without even really trying.

    The man nodded to him, warily.

    “Nithel son of Father.” He said.

    He could make Nithel trust him, he was sure, he was very good at that when he needed to. Just, he wanted for once to see someone trust him, and actually trust him. Since he was born he was doomed to be a snake in the grass, always deceptive goods, shifting and hiding. That was all he’d ever been groomed for, right?

    He knew it, that he wasn’t worth the trust he wanted. He’d never forget that child’s eyes, even then Alessio had that sort of gaze that seemed to pull apart your very soul and turn it over in his hands without even moving. Every time he looked at the boy there was that distrust, so close to breaking, like he wanted so badly to trust Nathair but he knew better.

    Son of Father was an odd calling. He filed the information away.

    Then. There was rumbling.

    “I think…we should probably pick a door…” Nathair remarked slowly.



    @hannahrenner @ragnarok

    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.

    Catholic Creed

    I am implementing a new rule in the character castle!

    “If in doubt about what direction the team wants to take, do what your character would do.”

    So, when writing Burn, I will do as Burn does!

    (Congratulations! I have unlocked level JERK.)


    “Ya’know what. I’m just gonna go with the one nearest me. Once I fix my foot.”

    “Can you wrap your foot aright? To staunch the bleeding?” 

    “This can’t get any worse.”

    Ya’know dust-punks, I think I’ve learned a lot from the people around me.

    I learned from Search that some people really do want nothing more than to help people.

    I learned from Drake that fastest way to a man’s heart is between the third and fourth rib.

    I learned from Vi that being a wild animal doesn’t reduce your personhood.

    Well, long story short, I learned a lot from the people around me. Wonder what I’ll learn from this nasty adventure.


    I feel the walls quaver – and not like This Place, ah, home I guess since we’re not there, This Place seems like a misnomer, is there anything beyond it though? In that reality I mean – anyways, the walls quiver but all the stone is dead. Dead. Dead.

    “Ya know punk,” I say. “whenever I hear someone say that…”

    The quavering becomes the most dreaded sound in This … at home, I guess.

    “It always gets worse.” I continue merrily.

    Run. Always run.

    “Why does fate hate me so much? Surely Arsene doesn’t have to put up with anything like this.” explodes the man that tried to kill me with his weird hunk of metal.

    Don’t ever trip. Don’t ever stop. Run.

    Ya know what punk? To the flooded tunnels with this!

    I have a job. I’m the best scout you’ll find in the Edgelands.

    Don’t have time to take care of my foot – gonna have to fall through another hole in reality.

    “After me punks! Never bet against a ranger when death is on the line!” I whoop and dive into the nearest mirror.

    I don’t know how long I’ve got until they come, but I can gather at least some intel on what’s beyond.

    Accept your greed and selfishness.

    When life knocks you down, wait 'til it passes over you and then attack it from behind.


    “After me punks! Never bet against a ranger when death is on the line!” He whooped and dove into the mirror with- Accept your greed and selfishness.

    Nithel’s chest tightened, but he jumped up, (snatching the cloth if blind man left it), and dove through after him.

    All had to enter now, and the walls were literally closing in. No time to think or debate.


    @hannahrenner @ragnarok


    Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise.


    Sherlock had no time to think, as he dove into the mirror of greed and selfishness. As one would expect, it was a dark stone hall, with walls decorated with gold and silver. Although it was a dimly lit area, the blind idiot started smoking.

    Didn’t he know that would ruin his lungs?

    “So, what do you think is up ahead?”

    Who knows dimwit.” Sherlock thought to himself before saying. “Hard to say idiot.”

    “That was rude and uncalled for.”

    “I’m not here to be nice. I’m here to survive.” Sherlock sighed. “I don’t care if it was uncalled for. I’ve said it and I will gladly say it again to any of you morons.”

    Sherlock didn’t care about any of these people. He wasn’t ever going to see any of them again after this.

    While the group moved on, a shadowy man appeared. He seemed more like a silhouette, as he asked Sherlock. “What was I to you?”

    “The Chief? How was the Chief here? Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, when Amnesia’s voice rang in his head.

    Tell the truth and accept your greed and selfishness.”

    There was a pause between the Chief and Sherlock. What was the Chief of Police to Sherlock, aside from a thorn in his side every day in his life?

    Be honest with yourself and everyone else. You know the truth.” 

    Hoping he was giving the correct answer, Sherlock spoke. “A burden and obstacle I used to gain sucess.”

    Sherlock didn’t care what the others thought of him. He wasn’t was a good person. Never was. He had manipulated several people to be successful. He had blackmailed people whenever he found it necessary.

    “…….That is correct. You used me to acquire the life you have now.”

    The shape vanished, leaving Sherlock unaffected. “So, this is the test? Face a person we knew and admit our selfish desires?” 

    It seemed about right. The Chief only made it difficult for Sherlock to do things his way. The consultant detective’s methods always brought results, but the fool always got in the way.

    Wow, I really am selfish and greedy. Surprise.” Sherlock sarcastically thought.

    He knew he would do anything to survive. That was the life he lived. Bending people to his own will. Surely, that was who he was.

    I really am pathetic.” 

    • This reply was modified 1 month ago by Ragnarok.

    You can only come to the morning through shadows: Tolkien


    Bored out of his mind. That was eXaCtLy how Alessio was feeling…

    He couldn’t afford to slow down.

    Get somewhere marginally safe. Find Arsene. Where was that idiot now? Alessio wasn’t sure whether he was more miffed that Arsene wasn’t there, or that he was really scared for him. Because it was a stupid idea to catch feelings for a bankrobber who kidnapped him. He was always picking the wrong people to sympathize with…

    He was such a worthless, self-pitying piece of…Alessio closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

    He didn’t need to think about himself like that. He wasn’t supposed to.

    But he was worthless.

    Shut up.

    Nobody would really miss him if he-

    Devils just shut up! He screamed at his brain, rather uselessly. Gritting his teeth he just kept moving repeating over and over and over again the words he memorized to calm down. ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. you are mine.’

    Several minutes wandering through empty halls made the words start to…hit. He just recited them out of habit, he wasn’t sure he’d actually prayed in years…except to beg for help, to find himself just as fractured all over again, to promise himself he wouldn’t keep hoping Someone would actually help him and to repeat the cycle again.

    You know I…guess I thought…maybe if I tried harder You might come back…

    Maybe I…scared You away…or something…

    And now he was even more irritated at himself for being so self-centered. This was just. so. stupid.

    “Could be worse,” He finally mumbled outloud, ironically. “I could be lost in an entirely different world, trapped on a ship with a thrill-seeking, insane robber, waiting for a creepy guy with black smoke to come stab me with cursed goop.

    Yeah…that would be unfortunate…”

    Nobody answered. The walls didn’t spontaneously laugh and Alessio just kept walking, grumbling like a madman. Better add that to his list of “how it could be worse”; being himself a neurotic, edgy, seventeen-year-old with pyromania.

    That would be unfortunate.

    Alessio tucked the stupid, sooty blanket tighter around his shoulders.

    “Soo…it could be worse. For instance-“ There was a loud thud on the other side of the hall. A series of different noises that sounded suspiciously like a fight. Alessio’s first instinct was to run but for some stupid reason, instead he dashed to the door and swung it open.

    Arsene was fighting Lady Princess Warrior with a giant box he was trying to get out.

    “You literally must be joking.” Alessio said. He wasn’t really sure who’s side he was even on. Until he saw Arsene’s hands shaking with the strange weapon in his hands. That triggered something like a knife through his brain.

    Suddenly a wall of fire burst between the two fighters, shielding Arsene…again. But the only thing he could think was Arsene was scared however flamboyant he acted. By now the robber was on the safe, which was rocking.

    For a split second, the lady locked eyes with Alessio, everything cold and determined on the surface. He wouldn’t know, but he was probably radiating fury like she’d betrayed his companion. He didn’t know, but that’s what triggered him.

    Then he leapt on top of the safe-which-was-starting-to-careened-out-of-control after Arsene. There was no using this stupid giant box to escape, the robber could only be on it because he can’t retrieved the treasure from it, and he probably wasn’t going to leave without it.

    “Why haven’t you already used your power to get whatever’s inside the safe and climb through a…that– “ He pointed at the vents, (he wasn’t entirely sure what they were or why they’d be on a ship). “ -while I cause a distraction?”

    Whether or not this was a question or an order is left entirely up to the robber to decide…

    Alessio didn’t even look at Arsene the entire time, now that he’d decided on a course of action he was entirely fixated on solving the problems they were in for. Everything else was zoned out, including – especially – his emotions, so he probably looked a little more intimidating than usual. In fact, absolutely furious and totally unconscious of it, might’ve accurately described his facial features right now…


    @hannahrenner @ragnarok

    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.


    Nithel didn’t like Sherlock. Something about him grained on his chest. The lack of deference or respect for everyone else, but himself. But he knew the Star Breather loved the man, so Nithel chose love him as well, to wonder why he was what he was, even if Nithel didn’t like him. But… does the Star Breather really love this Sherlock? Does He really love you? Does He even exist? 
    Yes. Nithel’s chest thudded inside him. He made himself look around the corridor- not act like he was battling the whispers inside.

    He looked to the blind man, and spoke only in his hearing, soft and steady. “I’m here if you have need. Only if you want.”

    Nithel had no fear of this door. He could think of nothing truly greedy or selfish he’d done. Except maybe the time he and Domnik swiped a pie, and ate it all, before the girls could get any. Or when he took his older daughter off into the mountain, leaving her mother to do the chores alone, so they could talk and watch the stars together. He cherished the memories, though on the inconsiderate side.

    Nay… He had no guilt here, and he didn’t think there was anything he should be guilty for, as more of the past came. Their family playing in the field together, or throwing leaves when they fell from the trees. The laughter. Bethan’s squeals, as he’d tickled her, and she kicked her small legs. His wife’s love late at night, when the children had been pushed into the loft. Their deep conversations.

    But… what of them? Nithel glanced around again, to make sure all were present. Will it stop at shadows? How real would they become? Would there be a punishment greater than admitting what had been done, for the greed, all of them must face individually? Or together? Would it force them to realize it was wrong, if they refused to beleive it? They were all here, that had been in the last room.

    Nithel gave the smallest nod to Nathair, unsure what to do. But the whispers came again, Could not the beginning of your life just be a dream? Could you not have spent, wasted your entire life, on a dream? Put your trust in someone that means nothing?
    No. Nithel straightened his shoulders and his jaw tightened. Ya khaliq alnujum ‘uwmin biki. He didn’t know if the words were right, for the language was slipping further and farther from his mind. But he hoped they were. He longed for the arms of a friend, which were his family. The arms of his wife. His father-in-law. But he didn’t know if he’d ever see her, his dearest friend… or any of his family, again.
    He longed for the arms of the Creator again.


    @hannahrenner @ragnarok


    Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise.


    *cough cough* Uh…what happens to them if like this character’s *cough* entire character arc revolves around him NOT being willing to accept his greed and selfish characteristics…??


    How am I gonna do this without major insta-spoilers and a huuuuuuuuuuuuge mega backstory infodump? *cracks knuckles dramatically*

    CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    …I think…



    Accept your greed and selfishness.

    Well. The blind guy sure knew how to pick them. Nathair was mildly impressed with the man’s sheer force of audacity. And then the other one followed – Nithel, wasn’t it? Nithel nodded slightly to Nathair and he hadn’t expected that. The moment was gone before he recovered from it. Then the obnoxious one went in too.

    And Nathair – he stood outside the mirror after everyone had gone in for a good couple seconds.

    “I’m sure this is an…excellent idea.” He said, almost sounding as if it were a sincere compliment. Then he followed in.

    He didn’t even make it to the hall before it all dissolved into smoke.

    ‘Confess your guilt.’

    “Guilt is an emotion, and I don’t have those.” He lied.

    It was all smoke. Thick, black lumps of smoke, the kind that drowns you like a thousand seeping hands smeared from your face to your entire body. That morphs and wipes every identifiable feature. Paints you black.

    Before they judge, if they would listen to my story first

    But you’ve already decided, haven’t you?

    Predestined to ever be a snake.

    There weren’t many things that gave Nathair emotions again, but there was nothing like the past to awaken terror.


    *CONTENT WARNING* This character is especially prone to being…um, detailed when referring to past violence, abuse etc. I mean Alessio barely talks about his trauma but Nathair will go into excruciating detail. Idk how far he’ll get into this…


    It was…cold, through his entire bones like metallic wires. Needles. Literal needles through his skin. In the bone, fastened between ribs. He could see the needles puncture through muscle but every nerve was paralyzed, and he barely even felt pain.

    He didn’t. feel. pain.

    Technically, he was dead.

    Oh cruel fate.


    We were all scared of the fever.

    He could only hear garbled voices, they were of course, physicians and magicians some…combination of the two maybe that he’s “father” picked up. All he could see were fractured silhouettes, powdery black splotches moving above him. Probably poking and prodding but he couldn’t feel a single thing.

    Right and wrong, aren’t they beautiful ideals for the people who’ve never had to truly apply them?

    I suppose, applying morality to others is so much more convenient, so much easier, so much more…controlling.

    It was cold but he didn’t feel any pain, just numbness.

    But then it was suddenly all back again.

    You wouldn’t know, you really wouldn’t know what I’ve been through, and no one would want to know. No one wants to look at it up close.

    Wouldn’t you rather a villain you can hate?

    Rather than a simple, broken person. Just like you.

    Maddening panic surged through him. Lies it was all lies! He’d always told everyone they were lying, saying his father didn’t care about him. But they were right, weren’t they? His father hated him, or didn’t care any more about him than he did anyone else.

    His father would save him his father would save him – of course he knew he was lying to himself.

    It wasn’t a trick, it wasn’t a nightmare but it had to be. It truly had to be! He’d gotten sick after wandering into his father’s study, his father asked him to be a part of his experiment, his father didn’t like it when he said no, his father –

    You want a story, don’t you?

    You want to be horrified but not at your own risk?

    I mean, you wouldn’t want to catch feelings for the people you condemn now, would you?

    It was gone again.

    Any feeling a normal eight-year-old boy would have.

    All he felt was the dizzying cold.

    Mechanically, the realization snapped one fact after the other like needles.

    His father was experimenting with ghouls – windigo especially.

    His father wanted a test subject to infect with the windigo fever to see if there was cure.

    But really, his father didn’t want a cure; he wanted a “tame” ghoul. A weapon.

    Pain didn’t exist, emotions didn’t exist, they were all dead. The only thing driving him to stay alive was the hate in his head. All the ways to make them pay, to make them feel helpless, poisoned like this. It froze his blood and churned in his stomach, that sick, fear-twisted hate.

    But something snapped, and that kind of hate wasn’t human.


    Then he was in the room with all the others, inside the mirror. And they’d all seen it. What that mean to him was that they were all judging, shocked out of any narrative you can design to sound innocent and amicable…that game was over. He was sure that would make him snap.

    Nathair was dangerous without emotions, but with pain and fear and every fractured memory worming through his mind. Hate kept him alive, nothing else, after all he wasn’t human anymore, was he…? He laughed huskily.

    Its voice snaked through the room, whatever it was that was playing this game with them.

    “And what do you do?”

    “What I had to to survive.” Nathair hissed.


    @hannahrenner @ragnarok


    So…that wasn’t so bad…😁✌️😬

    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.


    “THERE’S A WALL OF FIRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

    Arsene didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, when the paranoid boy jumped onto the safe with him.

    “Why haven’t you already used your power to get whatever’s inside the safe and climb through a…that–” He half shrieks, while pointing at a vent.  “-while I cause a distraction?”

    The issue was that Arsene couldn’t force himself to use his power again. Sudden images appeared in his mind, when he had awakened his power. He remembered nearly erasing his brother from existence. He saw his terrified expression, as Saga attempted to regain control over his power.

    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Sage. I failed you. I know you won’t forgive me.”

    Because he stopped paying attention to reality, the safe careened into the wall.

    “I’m going to do something really, really, really stupid.” 

    Leaping to the front of the safe, Arsene took out his handgun, shooting at the lights. While the wheel system Arsene used was made with a durable steel frame, it was likely trashed now. Although that would be a problem later, Arsene didn’t care at the moment. Focusing his power, Arsene grabbed Crorie from behind, initiating his power to render her unconscious. The black and silver nether drained Crorie enough to knock her out. Careful to not overdo it, Arsene deactivated his ability.

    “I’m sorry. I hope you and your brother will be able to forgive me someday.”

    It was likely a forgiveness he didn’t deserve. He couldn’t ever hope for Sage to pardon his errors. That sin was far from unforgettable.

    Abruptly, Arsene realized that he was holding Lady Crorie in his arms, which quickly turned his face red. As if this wasn’t embarrassing enough, the wall of fire that the boy started triggered the sprinklers. Although it did a great job at extinguishing the fire, it preformed magnificently in drenching Arsene Lupin.

    Not again. It’s the fourth time this month.” 


    You can only come to the morning through shadows: Tolkien


    You’d have thought Arsene had never seen Alessio use his powers for all the racket he was making.

    Yes it’s a stupid wall of fire, and you vanish things out of existence so I think we’re even! Water was pouring out the ceiling, even worse than most rainstorms he’d been caught it. That. was not fun.

    Arsene actually looked a lot more panicked than Alessio had expected. It was almost as if he froze up at the mention of his powers. So he didn’t know how to use them, any more than Alessio knew how to use his…? THEN WHY THE DEVIL DID HE USE IT ON ALESSIO EARLIER!?!?!?!?!?! Alessio did not like thinking about that he really did not like that idea, that could’ve killed him!!!

    But Arsene wasn’t thinking, he was freaking out. That wasn’t good. If he was impulsive normally…

    “Hey,” Alessio attempted a level, understanding tone but his voice was tense. “tell me what’s –”

    He leapt off the safe.

    What the devil are you doing!?!??!?!?!” Alessio grabbed at him a second too late, nearly loosing his balance as the safe jolted. With a catastrophic bang the lights went out. Alessio stifled a yelp, and jumped after Arsene, who…could be considered very fortunate because now he was probably not only fluent in his own world’s curses but now also in Casumbran curses of the most colorful kind.

    By the time he made it to the robber, their opponent was already unconscious.

    How could you -? Are you serio -? In which of the Twelve Kingdoms of Casumbra was that a better idea that just opening the devil-cursed safe!?!?!?” Alessio glanced at the drenched infamous criminal’s red face and at the girl in his arms and pulled her away protectively. Then he suddenly realized he was holding a girl, turned scarlet, and pushed her back into Arsene’s arms turning an even deeper shade of red.

    “Why would you use your powers on a person if you’re too scared to use it on an object!?!?!?!?!?! What kind of devil’s liver excuse for logic is that!?!?!?! And what are you going to do now?!?!?! DRAG HER THROUGH A HOLE IN THE SHIP!?!?!?!?!?!?! Do you even thin –“ Alessio faded off, staring at Arsene’s crushed expression, looking for all the world like a soaked, pathetic stray puppy. For all his flamboyancy, Arsene hadn’t… intentionally, caused any real harm to anybody. The whole showy air in his actions was kind’ve a pitiful sight, like he was begging for attention because he didn’t have any friends…

    Alessio was feeling guilty for yelling at him.

    Alessio stood there for a couple seconds and stared at just about anything but Arsene. His stupid fire powers should’ve died out by now he was sure but it kept flickering around them, and he swatted at it instinctively. Finally, he stared at the floor and cleared his throat.

    “I’m, um, sure you were…doing your best…” he mumbled awkwardly “we should…find a place to set her down safely and get out of here…”

    There was a pause and Alessio rubbed his arms uncomfortably and finally looked up at Arsene again.

    “I’m still mad at you.” He said insincerely.


     @hannahrenner @ragnarok

    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.


    After listening to the boy rambling, Arsene finally spoke. “I’ll open the safe.”

    Gently setting Lady Crorie down, Arsene continued. “After I open the safe, we’ll leave the ferry.”

    Leaping onto the safe, Arsene powered up. Putting his hands against the safe, Arsene channeled the black nether.

    “Before we leave,” the boy started, “You should know that we’re being hunted. Someone attempted to kill me while you were gone.”

    Rook, Sherlock perhaps? No, Sherlock wouldn’t have let him get away, he’s far too powerful for that. Rook’s too honorable to go after him.” 

    “What does he look like?” Arsene inquired.

    “He was taller than you and I think I caught a glimpse of white hair. He had a katana, but he never actually used it. I-I think he may have a plague. Not like the one you faked, but an actual one which can drive you into madness.”

    Well, that was reassuring. As for the other descriptions, Rook was taller than him, but he didn’t have white hair. Sherlock did have some white hair, but they were about the same height.

    So, we’re dealing with a total stranger. Perfect.” Arsene sighed, “I don’t know who he is. Let’s just get off this boat.”

    He wasn’t in the mood for this. His power was just a curse he was burdened with. His brother was lucky. Sherlock had the power to help others. Aether was a gift, while nether was an affliction. It would have been better if nether didn’t exist.

    Just get whatever is in this safe and get off this boat.” 


    (Yeah, Hades isn’t done just yet, Arsene envies Sherlock’s power, etc. Also, sorry the update isn’t as long. We may get a little info on Hades at some point in this trip, I don’t know.)

    You can only come to the morning through shadows: Tolkien



    It was quiet.

    Not a real quiet, only the façade of silence loud with insecurities, and with torturous anticipation.

    A numb sort of quiet because it was coming again. If the silence were a color it would be grey – not pure white or wicked black, not a single color really. The kind of grey that blocks out all the other colors and just fades them all away.

    And that was when pain stopped setting in. It was a strange feeling.


    Click clop


    Click clop


    The first thing he saw was wet smearing red. Pinpoints of feathery almost gelatin liquid sprinkling the floor. That was the only color he could really see, the only color that really mattered.


    “Confess your guilt and we can move on.” Crackled the eerie voice from the walls.

    But Nathair was never an obedient little victim, he had enough spite to endure the pain. He knew it wouldn’t stop just because he surrendered.

    “I didn’t do anything they didn’t ask for!” He growled, feeling it begin to trigger inside him. Cold as needles under his skin. No, why should he apologize for what they did to him first?


    Click clop


    Click clop


    They were his footsteps. The only sound he could hear. He’d glared around the room for the noise but it was his own footsteps, he just wasn’t conscious. It was all a blur of grey – colorless grey, dulling every sound, smell and sense. The only thing that was vividly real was the hot, crisp red drenching his hands. It was all black and white and grey all around him.

    But his hands almost vibrated with something…something about the blood. It was…the only thing that felt real, but there was something else. Something untapped.

    Maybe he was too dizzy with delirium and trauma.

    The little boy just stood there, strangely, in the pile of corpses all around him. All the doctors and the magicians that had tortured him for the sake of science. And the funny thing was, he didn’t feel sad, or bitter, or wickedly satisfied in any way. The only thing he felt was…rather hungry, he hoped he could find bread or something, maybe cakes, he wanted something sweet.

    Maybe he regretted it…? He didn’t remember any of it.


    (*He will go on until the castle kills him…just sayin’…* He might just have to die in this test to get the story moving*

    *Does…he just need to like die…and them pass the test and he respawns there after they get through…?*)


     @hannahrenner @ragnarok

    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.


    “I’ll open the safe.” Arsene said finally, no witty remark or scheme this time…Alessio wasn’t sure how to respond to that…Carefully, the robber set the lady down as gently as if she were a queen. What was Arsene? He just couldn’t gauge him, just how dangerous or amoral was he? He…seemed to care, but not about his own life or – Alessio shook off his thoughts it was just giving him a headache.

    “After I open the safe, we’ll leave the ferry.” Please yes. He was so done with boat rides…

    Which reminded him.

    “Before we leave,” he said “You should know that we’re being hunted, assumably.”

    Actually that sounded stupid now that he’d said that, of course they were both being hunted they were both outlaws in some degree! He just wasn’t 100% percent sure that maniac from before was hunting them specifically or just snapped…

    “I mean, someone made an attempt to kill me while you were gone so…” He said, sort’ve casually like he didn’t know how important the information was to Arsene. After all nobody actually cared if he died unless it inconvenienced them in some way – he was just so used to being so careful with his words…

    “What does he look like?” Arsene asked. This was a question he was accustomed to answering with military preciseness.

    “6 feet, give or take, sturdy build, masked and dressed completely in black.” He couldn’t miss a single detail, he couldn’t miss anything tha – he tried not to tense, or overthink. “He seemed to have a katana but he didn’t really use it. He was using powers but I couldn’t identify of what nature. I…I think he may have a plague. Not like the one you faked, but an actual one which can drive you into madness.”

    Now he really blew it now. Everyone knew he had a particular phobia of the windigo fever and any weakness you betrayed would be exploited, he didn’t keep his voice completely even and now – he noiseless took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

    Arsene hadn’t done anything to him…well, except kidnap him, knock him unconscious, make him party to a robbery…The point was! Arsene hadn’t done anything truly malicious to him yet!

    Arsene sighed “I don’t know who he is. Let’s just get off this boat.”

    But you’re supposed to know or act mysterious about it to pretend you do! Alessio almost relaxed just a little, being told straight up he didn’t know, he wasn’t used to being kept in the loop for anything. Not without a price.

    Alessio rubbed his arms, mind spinning to reevaluate Arsene’s character.

    Maybe Arsene was ok. Either way they were stuck together for now at least, for better or worse. And he’d said Nithel had been with his brother, Alessio had to find him. Maybe he can help…

    Yeah Alessio was not that trusting yet.

    The robber was a lot quieter than normal, Alessio knew he had to be upset. He still didn’t know what to do, should he try to comfort Arsene? What was in the safe, anyway, he wanted to know…

    Finally, Alessio cleared his throat uncomfortably.

    “Thanks for saving my life earlier…I guess…probably…” He mumbled, fumbling with the stupid blanket he’d brought this whole way here. He loosely tucked it over the unconscious lady’s limp form. He made a motion to pull his hood closer but caught himself and chewed his bottom lip.

    “Soo…who did we just render unconscious…?” Just curious. People do this all the time, right?



    To be a light to the world you must shine in the darkness.

    Ethan Leonard

    Howdy yall!

    Im new here, but would it be ok if I dropped a character of mine in here? I’ve been wanting to kinda develop him more for my WIP.

    “Not to worry, we are still flying half a ship”

    Catholic Creed

    Sorry for the long delay – life’s been using me as a punchbag. 



    I don’t remember falling asleep.

    But I wake up sore, ornery, hungry, bleeding, hurting, ready to fight whatever G-d Search and Thomas believe in and even more ready to go back to sleep and not wake up for another hundred years.

    That’s actually a stupidly nice idea, I’m gonna do th…

    Where’s Umberuin?

    I can’t feel it where is it? I need it!


    I smoke the room only

    only it’s not a room. It’s

    It’s nothing

    A swirling, shifting nothing.


    I test the ground with my hands – it’s not ground. It’s insubstantial.  It’s passing through my fingers.

    I can’t feel it.

    I snatch at my smoke desperately. Come back come back…


    The swirling around me is my smoke. there is nothing else out there.


    Okay. okayokayokayokayokayokay…

    Breathe. Deep breaths.

    What am I even breathing?

    Okay. Bad, not-useful, counterproductive thoughts you can excuse yourself now.


    What do I know?


    a) I fell through a hole in reality. I met a bunch of mean people, survived a shooting, and had a window shattered on me. And a hole in my foot.

    Always run. Always, always run…

    Shut up!

    b) I fell through another thrice-cursed hole in reality in to a room full of magic portal mirrors that were supposed to what? test us? And maaaaaaaay have an ally. Possibly.

    c) The room was collapsing so I lead the way into a another hole in reality. Pff. Third time’s the charm?

    Like, when – in the history of repeat events – tell me when, punks, when?! Has?! That?! Worked?!


    Sooooo – I might. Possibly. Potentially. Even probably. Be stuck inside the hole in reality.



    Okay, why would I be stuck in a hole in reality?


    Maybe … I wasn’t supposed to lead the way?

    But nobody else was doing anything! We were gonna die! I …

    … I mean, I’ve got nothing worth living for, but Search might be irritated if I died without her permission.

    Strike that. Vi’d bring me back and murder me! Scary tiny-punk.

    Now, would she just stab me? Poison? Transform and break me like an egg between her teeth? Toss me up in the air like a cat and claw me before I hit the ground?

    Hm. I’m almost – definitely morbidly – interested.


    Honestly, I’d rather Vi get me than stay here another moment. Wherever here is. If here is. Why here is?


    Okay. Stop rambling Burn. You are an adult. You can figure this out.


    My foot is still bleeding.


    Okay. I don’t feel any glass left. So I need …

    … crap.

    I left the bandages behind.

    Of course I did.


    Accept your greed and selfishness…

    Well. I must be sooo greedy and sooo selfish that I couldn’t even be allowed to pass through to the other side.

    Cause, ya’know, just trying to stay alive from one day to another is sooooooo selfish.


    Okay. I’m selfish.

    I killed people. You don’t have to lecture me on it.

    I know. I heard it all from Search.


    Look. I just …

    Ya’know what. Whatever!

    It’s been stacked against me my whole life.

    Justice is a lie.

    Peace. Freedom. Love.


    Well. Maaaaybe there is something to love. Vi will let us cuddle her when she’s sick. Kid needs it though.


    And Thomas drops his guard when it’s just us in the room. Ya’know? He’ll even walk around without his weapons. And actually talk about that G-d he believes in. Instead of saying something and waiting for some jerk to hurt him.


    And Search. Search actually has finally stopped using psychometry to make sure the food isn’t poisoned. Well, what we make at home.

    If ya don’t make it, ya shouldn’t eat it. Okay punks? Especially in high-crime, drug-riddled areas. Got it?





    Where’s my weapon? I need that.


    How do I get out of here?

    What? Am I supposed to admit something?

    Confront something?

    I do that every thrice-cursed bright-shift.

    What right do you have to lecture me? Huh punk?

    You been that hungry? Scared? Desperate?

    Just cause you looked different? Acted different? Didn’t fit into the common narrative well enough? Made people, what, uncomfortable?


    I used to punch people for looking at me funny. Back when I could see.

    Got tired of waiting for it. Ya’know? They were gonna hurt me anyway. Might as well give them a reason to fear me. Be the monster they made me out to be.


    Enough rambling.

    Enough ruminating.

    No one’s here but you.

    Stop talking to yourself.

    No one cares. Have they ever? Ever since That Punk found acid…



    Don’t think about it.

    Lost more than eyes that day.


    Lesson time punks – what is the root of greed?

    Needs not met.


    If you consistently don’t meet someone’s needs, they have to do it themselves.

    And then, why would they share?

    How can they? There isn’t enough to go around.

    Those who have more keep it because no one will help them when they have less.

    Those who have less do whatever it takes to get more: butter up the ones with, steal from them, kill them.

    Whatever it takes.

    Because you have needs. Basic needs: Food, water, shelter.

    Maybe someone gets enough of those needs met. Then they can get family. Friends.

    But! But as soon as the food, the water, the shelter – the most basic of basic – needs are threatened, those family, those friends turn on you.

    Because they have needs too.


    So, the world belongs to the strong. The world crushes the weak.


    I’m here.

    I am not weak.

    I am cunning. Greedy. Selfish. 



    Whatever it takes.


    Well. I don’t know what it will take to get out of this … emptiness.


    One step at a time. Find my weapon first.

    When life knocks you down, wait 'til it passes over you and then attack it from behind.



    Of course. Just post a character bio and a world bio.

    You can only come to the morning through shadows: Tolkien

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