I had to work so hard to keep him away from looking like Chris Hemsworth.
He stands at 6"1, which is a near freakish height for the time period he's in. His hair is very long and dark brown, he keeps it in a ponytail or in a braid most of the time because he hates it in his face. His eyes are hazel and slanted, almost always narrowed. His has a very narrow, angular face with sharp features and Benedict worthy sharp cheekbones. His skin is sun-tanned and he has tan lines on his arms where he rolls up his sleeves.
His hands are big and rough, weathered and torn from his work as a blacksmith. His arms are scarred and he also has a scar on the side of his face along his jaw-line that trails from his right ear to the bottom of his chin.
Personality: Acosta is a sour wolf. He's not very happy, doesn't have many reasons to smile, so he doesn't. He's gruff and cynical, and just a little bit mopey though he won't use that word in description of his own self. He's brooding and reluctant to show much emotion towards anything that can manipulate those feelings, a.k.a people. He doesn't really like people that much, doesn't like meeting new people or getting to know them. He'd probably wouldn't even bother to get your name, much less your address. He walks around forever in the mindset that someone just cut the tires on his car. (More like killed his horse because it's medieval times and yeah...) When he speaks it's curt and quick, as if he wants nothing more in the world than to get away from you. Even those few people that he actually likes are not immune to his attitude, they've just learned to deal with it.
Mostly, his bad attitude is originated from his crap childhood. He just assumes the worst of people and uses this "f- you, leave me alone" wall to prevent others hurting him. He's paranoid that people are always assuming the worst about him and figures that not caring is far easier than wondering why people are giving him weird looks.
History: Acosta was born with a bum left leg and has always had to work around this handicap. He's always had this really strong limp and he can't run really because he'll trip and fall and it's all very embarrassing. That leg made it impossible for him to live up to this standard that men should be strong and chivalrous because he could never do the things that the other boys did. He couldn't do sports, he wasn't strong, he wasn't charming, etc. And to top it all off he was gay - he doesn't really know this though. Even when he does court women the relationships end badly and abruptly. He never really understood why he wasn't attracted to women, but he just knew that a relationship with a woman was something that never worked out, and something he really didn't want. Still, he tries to date his way through those feelings, hoping that something will click and he can keep a girlfriend long enough to turn her into a bride.
He was teased as a kid because his father was the town drunk and because of his leg. Kids would bully him and often jump him because he was weak and defenseless. His few friends were made out of their pity for him and because they felt sorry that he was always alone. Soon Acosta got sick of it and decided to go off on his own, he figured that he really didn't need anybody.
His mother died giving birth to him and his father was hardly an active member of his childhood. Acosta grew up basically on his own and had to find his own way. At sixteen he went into the blacksmith trade because it was hand-work that he could do easily and well. He believes nothing comes free or easy and despises those who've never had to work in their lives.
Magic or no, and what type: No.
What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: He's gay.
- Name: Jasey Rae Knolls (Female) - Age: 23 - Appearance: She has long reddish brown hair, with fair skin. Her eyes are a deep blue, and she has a smatering of freckles across her nose. Her lips are larger than normal lips, and her nose is small, so it looks kind of weird when you first look at her, but eventually becomes cute. Spoiler
- Personality: Jasey Rae isn't the typical writer cliche. She's bigger than life, and her personality shows it. She's most defiantly an extrovert, thrives in big groups, and is happiest when she's with someone. She hates to be still, and she hates the quiet. Even when she's writing she always has loud music playing when she's alone. She's also a procrastinator. If there is a reason she doesn't have to do something, no matter what it is, she'll take that reason. Even though she's so vibrant, she rarely tells anyone what she's feeling, no matter how much she trusts you.
Jasey has trouble connecting with people. She might have a million people she knows, but she only has a few friends. She has a gift for putting people at ease, And often is the person people confide in. Her easy going personality practically bubbles with excitement, and she's been known to be called hyper because she's so full of life. She loves to crack jokes and be the center of attention, though she has a sarcastic streak a mile wide. Be careful not to get on the wrong side of her, or you'll be faced with the sharpest tongue you've ever met. - History: Jasey lives in a tiny little apartment in New York, present time. She grew up in a normal every day family, and eventually left her home in northern Virginia to go to school in New York. She's been living there ever since she left college a year ago. She works as a waitress at an all night bar, leaving her days open for writing her novels. She's always written it seems, but it didn't get serious until she was in college. She sent one of her short stories in for a contest, and she won, and that started her professional career. She's published one novel so far, and is in the process of writing her second. - About your writing: Jasey is ruthless when it comes to her characters. And, she's one of those writers that writes the terribly sad and heart breaking stories. She hates the thought of series, so she ignores her publisher's request for her to begin a series and continues writing her miserable fantasy. Her first novel was a novel about an empire falling, and the death of the main character by the end. - The way you described the World: The world she described was renaissance style story, and she described as a basic village. Except for the fact it was practically a ghost town. There were no men left, they were either fighting or had already been killed in the war of cities. The women were trying to keep the village up, but everyone was sick or malnourished, so everything was run down. The slums were taking over, and the large estates had been abandoned and taken over by the poor and rats. -Their Puppets: Gregorian - Other:
-Name:Gregorian (Male) - Age : 27 - Appearance: Spoiler
Gregorian has dark curly hair and pale skin. His eyes are dark brown, almost black, and he has a faint goatee. He's great at the smoldering stares. - Personality: Gregorian isn't a very quiet person either. He has a temper that flares up easily, and at very strange times, like a bomb ticking that goes off whenever he's annoyed by something. He's brash and doesn't make very good decisions, never thinking them through properly. He's fiercely loyal to any of his loved ones, and wears rose colored glasses when it comes to them. If he loves you, he's not going to hear a word against you, and will believe the best of you no matter what the situation is. If you cross him and he loves you, he's going to let you back into his life if you ask, because he trusts that you've repented and seen the light of your mistakes.
He believes in his choices and almost never changes his mind, hating that 'band-wagon' mentality. He keeps to himself in most social situations, and surrounds himself with people who like to talk so he doesn't have too. He jumps to conclusions a lot, especially when he's angry, and even if he's wrong, he'll never admit it. Though he's very firm in what he believes, he seeks the approval from his peers. Especially when it comes to Jasey. He has this insane urge to please her, even if he hates her. - History: Gregorian was a normal every day man living in Candira with his family. He didn't cause trouble, he had a job, he was looking for a wife-- until the war of two cities broke out, and he was called to join the army. He left, and was one of the few who survived. When he returned to his village, he found everyone but his mother dead in his home, and she herself was dying from disease. After she left the life, he joined the effort to rebuild the village, with the few people who had survived. He continues to work on that to this day, and it's almost returned to the glory of the past before the war. - Magic or no, and what type: None, though his grandmother swore when he was born, the fire leaped for joy. - What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: He and his sister argued before he left for the war, and they never reconciled. That's why he blames Jasey for her death so much. She doesn't know that he and his sister weren't on best terms because he feels that she'd think he was weak for never having the nerve to make up with her sister. - Controlled by: Jasey Rae (my character) - Other: He and Jasey have an interesting dynamic. His sister died in a story years ago, and he blames her for it still. She doesn't even remember killing her, and that makes him angry. That's the root of the anger between the two. Though I eventually plan for them to fall in love.
Puppeteer - Name: Veeren Veekayess - Age: 17 - Appearance: He's an average height teen, with messy black hair and a goatee. He wears black clothes most of the time, t-shirt and jeans, but he wears very bright white sneakers. He's pretty skinny with not much muscle or fat on him, and he has tan skin. Other than that, he's pretty nondescript. - Personality: He's shy, really shy. Unless he knows you, it'll be hard to have a conversation with him. However, he loves being in crowds, they take away from his loneliness. He'd much rather sit by himself and write than hang out with a group of friends. That being said, with his friends, he's great fun. He's always cheerful, despite how he's feeling, and he always tries to cheer everyone else up. He's a kind kid and it'd be very hard to find him mad about anything. - History: He was born in modern day America to a very nice family. Since he was a child, he loved to imagine things that were bigger than reality, and whether fueled by his mind or the tons of cartoons he watched, he decided to put these imaginations down on paper. By the time he was sixteen, he'd had numerous books written, and many comics draw. He's had few favorites over the years and still continues to write them today, when he's sucked into what he thought was his own world. - About your writing: He loved making things as complicated as possible, and as such, he strives to make his characters as realistic as possible. His heroes would use more than brute force to face a situation, and his villains would use more than a few goons to try and stop the hero. They'd been made from the ground up to have as genius a mind as you can. - The way you described the World: He 'created' a normal town town where unnatural things happen. He hadn't so much thought about the aesthetics of the country as much as he focused on what was going on in it. -Their Puppets: Chris Leon & Jack Masters (Both mine >.< I have separation issues) - Other: Yes.
Protagonist Puppet - Name: Chris Leon - Age: 28 - Appearance: He's a bit shorter than most people his age. With a light complexion, he has a clean shaven face and long, spiky hair. His pretty muscular, but doesn't like to show it, constantly wearing long sleeve shirts and jeans. He has shiny black shoes with neatly tied shoelaces, just to look a bit professional. - Personality: He keeps to himself most of the time as he likes to work. He doesn't really like small talk and is always straight to the point in any conversation. You can say it's just a part of his job. He's not mean in anyway, he's just reserved. - History: He grew up as an orphan that never got adopted in the city of Velso. He started working from his early years to scrape up a bit of money, and what he did make he invested in his education. Today he's a high ranked detective/cop in his home town who's called on for some of the most horrific crimes (usually involving the supernatural). His latest and most difficult case is with the search of Jack masters. - Magic or no, and what type: Yes, but it's completely unknown to him. Chances are he'll never ever use them, even if he ever does find out. - What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: He's depressed. He's a genius, but he's depressed. He's rich now, but he's depressed. He's one of the most looked up to figures in his hometown, but he's depressed. Finding out he's just the creation of a child's imagination won't help that too much. - Controlled by: Veeren Veekayess - Other: If you say so.
Antagonist Puppet - Name: Jack Masters - Age: Unknown to characters, but around 40 to Veeren - Appearance: It's hard to tells what he really looks like under his permanent halloween costume. He is always wearing a metallic, white ski mask (shown below, though in foam form), gloves, and a samurai suit made of plain black cloth rather than metal (also below, though in metal form). He has a bit longer than shoulder-length hair and a ponytail to match, but that's about all of him we can see.
- Personality: He's a cold-hearted killer. He murders on a daily basis and is rarely seen in public. He's a horrific image for any and everyone. That being said, he's a great conversationalists, and as is common of Veeren, he's a genius. Except this time, he's on the bad side. - History: Little is known. Through thorough research, it was discovered he was a scientist at a research center that was destroyed by the wall. They'd been doing secret research and he seems to be the bi-product of it, with his horrific abilities. He is located in Velso. - Magic or no, and what type: Yes, if you would call it that. He uses mind magic that allows him to teleport from place to place extremely quickly. He is able to do this through thorough visualization of where he wants to go, which doesn't take long with the brain on him. That and he's amazingly strong, which could be because he holds a firm grasp on several martial arts, but that's not supernatural. - What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: Chris can't stop him. Veeren's original plan was for Chris to find a way to beat him, but he created more of a problem than he could handle. Match that with a mind that's greater than Veeren would've thought, and you're in deep trouble. - Controlled by: Veeren Veekayess - Other: Well maybe.
Last edited by veeren on Wed Mar 06, 2013 8:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Love is the name for our pursuit of wholeness, for our desire to be complete."
- Appearance: She has dirty blond hair, that curls at the end, accompanied by striking blue eyes. She has surprisingly soft features, despite the fact that she was raised so roughly. Standing around 5'4, she is fairly short, and skinny too, from going days at a time without food. She usually wears a worn leather jacket that was her mothers, and plain cloth pants, which are torn in multiple places and worn down and faded.
- Personality: Cold and calculating, she always has a plan. Quick witted, she is a great lier, and is good at getting out of tight predicaments, however she needs to. She doesn't trust anyone, which has earned her no friends of any kind. She is a misanthrope, and avoids contact with other people if possible. (However, for her to be included in the SB, she will have to.)
- History: She was born in the city of Marknam, into poverty. She had no other siblings, and never went to school, which forced her to learn to read on her own. She never had enough food or enough money, barely enough to get by. Things got worse for her at 15. Her parents were killed in a double homicide robbery at her house. She managed to survive by sneaking out the window and hiding on the outside of the wall. The robbers took everything from them, all she had left was the house, where she still lives.
After that incident, she has been worse off than ever before. She has stolen for food and money on multiple occasions, and refuses to get a job. After hearing her parents' deaths, she has avoided all possible contact with humanity, and lost the ability to trust. At the worst time of her life, she was forced to kill a man during a robbery to avoid him calling the guard. She carries a knife on her at all times, even though she doesn't know how to fight.
- Magic: None
- What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: She once heard about the glories of Ferusia, and has always dreamed of visiting it. Her puppet doesn't know she killed someone.
"During high school, I played junior hockey and still hold two league records: most time spent in the penalty box; and I was the only guy to ever take off his skate and try to stab somebody." -Happy Gilmore
- Name (and gender if it's not obvious): Kazran //male// - Age (12 to whatever, but normal human age): 22 - Appearance (pics welcomed, but written required.. Keep on the real people pics, though): Kazran is a normal heighted, lanky sort of person. He has a pale complexion with dark hair that sometimes falls down over his eyes and his glasses. Spoiler
- Personality (make it a couple of paragraphs): Kazran is very introverted when it comes to meeting new people, he's socially awkward and shy. He's also very intelligent and good at reading people and understanding them and why they do things. But he's also a little sarcastic, often making sarcastic comments under his breath about people. He's very hyper observant, and won't forget details. Apart from being socially awkward when first meeting someone, after becoming comfortable with them he's very dependable and trustworthy. He's not so quick to trust though. He's very honest about things, which some people tend not to like - but he try's his best to consider every possible detail before speaking so as not to offend anyone. Because he's very dependable as a friend he'll fight for you, no matter what it takes.
- History (what time (and place) are you coming from, what got you into writing, about family, so on)
Kazran is from the early 21st century in England. Originally from Cardiff in Wales, he moved to the city of England to attend University and get away from his family. As a young boy he was dreadfully lonely as an only child and he had very few friend, so he started writing. It was the only way to escape the dreary world that he lived in for a better one. It wasn't until he was around fifteen when he actively pursued writing as a career - so he got his degree in Psychology with a minor in creative writing and another minor in historical literature.
- About your writing (well, obviously fantasy-ish at least, but give us some details.. Do you like happy endings, do you care for your characters, do you see them as people, do you like it complicated or simple, is there love and so on):
Kazran's writing portfolio is filled with many different types and styles of writing, his best being in fantasy and realistic fiction - but stretching over things like science fiction and horror (he once did a project where he manifested aspects of himself that he didn't like and murdered them, some of his best works) - he favors happy endings most of the time but he definitely appreciates the dynamic of stories without happy endings. He sees his characters not only as people, but as extensions of himself (he also may have a lower developed form of schizophrenia - although doctors were never completely sure) - his earliest characters were aspects of himself as well as things he didn't have such as an extroverted personality. More often than not there is an element of love in his writing, he enjoys the mind games.
- The way you described the World (the world of the Puppets, that is, where we will all end up, give us a part of the description, of the place where your story is happening or such): This particular story Kazran set in an abundant 21st century city, not unlike England or New York. There isn't a terrible amount of pleasant weather, but to him - everything is better in the rain.
-Their Puppets (if controlling the other writer's Puppet character, only fill this when you're sure they're ok with it): Kazran has taken a liking to one character in particular over the years - one of his first. A spritely boy named Ander, who un-coincidentally enough has all the best characteristics of Kazran (i.e. his intelligence and ability to read people) as well as the best of the characteristics that Kazran doesn't posses (i.e. an extroverted personality and charms with women)
Other: He's up for love
He has this really nice looking black pen that he's constantly spinning around in his fingers especially when he's thinking.
Okay here are my characters! Aria- if you have any issues with any information I have put here please PM me and I will gladly work something out. :3
Name: Walter Edward O'Neil Age: 20 Appearance: Walter is of average height and build, not what one could consider typically handsome by today's standards but he has a classic handsomeness that is worth a second look. He has short dirty blonde hair that he keeps in a gentlemanly way. His eyebrows are thick and expressive and are constantly moving. His eyes are a deep brown, the kind of soft brown that is so painfully easy to get lost in. But it is his smile that is his most striking feature. Though he is a man his smile is that of a boy, a crooked boyish grin. The kind of smile that starts at one corner of his mouth and travels to the other then upwards to his cheeks making the dimples there stand out and finally stopping at his eyes giving them a merry sparkle- Walter smiles with his whole face. Spoiler
Personality: Walter is a nice steady lad, level headed and mature. His father died when he was young, and as the eldest Walter became man of the family and surrogate father to his three younger siblings. He had to grow up fast and because of the many cares and responsibilities he had at such a tender age it gives him a “Beyond his years” look.
He is soft spoken and a gentle spirit. He is a fatherly young man, he makes friends with little ones more easily then adults and the little ones love “Nuncle Waltie”. He always will listen to their cares and worries- and ALWAYS has time to play. At Christmastime when the whole O'Neil family gathers Walter is to be found in the playroom surrounded by his little cousins playing a romping game of menagerie- he is always the Elephant.
For the most part he is light hearted and content, but there are moments when depression and old tragedies stir up melancholy feelings- it is at these times his brothers watch him closely.
History: Walter was born in 1882 to Theodore and Helen O'Neil. His father was a well known concert pianist and his mother a Opera starlet. Troubles dogged the couple from the start, firstly they had a rocky relationship- both having a string of lovers and their rows were infamous. There was no love lost between them- the only reason they married was because walter was conceived out of wedlock and to save what little respectability they each had they married.
Walters father paid his family as little mind as he could, traveling about preforming, and when he was home he locked himself in his rooms to practice for another performance. His mother resented her four children, seeing them as the chains that held her in her prison of housewifery
They lived in a large brick house in London, near a lovely little park, and this park was the four childrens haven. They were always escaping there.
Walter and the twins- Daniel and Johnathan (a year younger then walter) All went to one of the best schools in London, while their sister Evangeline- three years Walters junior- as schooled at home by the Governess Miss Elisabeth.
When Walter was seven he contracted Polio- a very mild case luckily for him but it crippled his right leg and he has to use a walking stick to this day to help him get around. During his long recovery his little sister was his constant companion- Evangeline was a motherly little thing and nursed him as best as a four year old can. The two were very special to one another and often Evangeline would tell Walter things she didn't dare tell anyone else- he knew all her secrets.
When Walter was twelve his father died quite suddenly. He was found in his Paris hotel room shot through the head- Suicide.
Walter was then man of the family and forced to grow up over night because the little ones turned to him for comfort- as they mother was never there. Walter tried to hold the family together, he took his siblings out on little family trips to the zoo and to the museum on rainy days, but he was getting older and soon graduated from the boys school, and his mother sent him to boarding school outside of London.
This breaking up of the family left all four children heartbroken, but now it was Evangeline who held them all together, she wrote all three of her boys every day, and told them all her little stories, what she had learned in school, the little parties she had attended- the comfort of home.
Life seemingly settled down, the boys went on from the boarding school to universities, and Evangeline was growing into a beautiful young lady- but Tragedy struck again. At the age of thirteen Evangeline became ill with Tuberculosis and just shy of her sixteenth birthday died quietly in her sleep.
Walter was heartbroken an thrown into a dark depression that had his brothers worried for his welfare. He had always dabbled in writing and this became his solace. He wrote stories- filling them with his version of Evangeline, his Evie.
About your writing: Classic Grimm-esque fairystories. They always have happy endings but often have a dark undercurrent running throughout.
The way you described the World: A classic fairy tale setting. A white majestic castle on a snow capped mountain, a dark foreboding wood inhabited by strange beasts and a labyrinth of wild Roses.
Puppets : Princess Penelope (Aria) and Evangeline- Aka the Red Fairy (Mine.)
Other:
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Name: The Red Fairy (Or Evie to those who know her better. ) Age: It's hard to tell with Fairies, she looks to be around 15 Gender: Female
Appearance : Evie is petite, as are most fairies, in her stocking feet she stands just under 4'9” and is of willowy build. Her figure is womanly with lovely curves, but her face is still that of a child. The perfect balance caught between Womanhood and childhood. Her hair is thick and a lustrous Auburn. It falls in long lose curls and waves to her hips- but she often wears it up in a loose bun or held in place by ribbons. Her nose is small, her lips dainty and dusted a healthy pink- a very kissable pink mind you. Her eyes are large and a sharp woodsy brown- the kind of brown that sparkles with life and laughter. Evie's most striking feature though is the delicate pair of wings arching up from her back. They are like a Monarch butterflies and velvety soft to the touch. She keeps them (when not in use) neatly folded at her back forming a shimmering cape of Orange and black. Her clothes are of pale pastel colors and diaphanous fabrics that swish in a delightful way around her tiny elfin feet. Spoiler
Personality: Evie is a gentle spirit- or rather a gentle spit fire. Evie is a Good Fairy, but she also doesn't take crap from anyone- she isn't above punishing people with her magic.
She is lighthearted and loves to laugh- and making her little charges happy is her greatest joy, the thing she lives for. She is bubbly, girlish and feminine to the extreme- you would never catch her in pants or stomping about like a elephant. Evie is a classic Fairy, she is instinctively good, but mischievous. She loves to play tricks and innocent pranks- all in good fun of course. A wonderful sense of humor and a sarcastic streak a mile wide makes her a delightful companion.
She is a maternal little thing and often ends up mothering her little charges as much as instructing them as a Fairy should do. She can't help herself, it's just who she is- to nurture and care for helpless ones.
Evie is a hopeless romantic, even though Fairies aren't supposed to fall in love Evie wants to more then anything. She carries her heart in her hands and willingly would give it away to someone if they wanted it. She is a tender hearted little thing and a passionate soul- given the chance she would be a devoted and caring lover, but she hasn't gotten that chance yet and likely never will. So she simply feeds the fire of her romantic heart by reading all the romantic novels she can lay her hands on and drinking up the stories and songs of the bards of knights and fair maidens- always feeling a little heartsick that none of the maidens are Fairy maids.
But on the flip-side of all this tender and girlishness is the powerful magic user who can be a frightening spirit when upset, thankfully Evie has a long fuse but when she is angered she is terrifying. No one messes with those she cares about and gets out unscathed, she is violently protective and the kind of girl who would willingly die for those she loves. Honor and chivalry are her bonds, and she tries her best to live within those.
History: Like most Fairies Evie cannot remember where she cam from- she just was one day, but she cant even remember that far back. It just always seemed she always was. She has always lived in the forests near the mountains ans rarely ventures out of them- interfering her Labyrinth of wild roses she has cultivated over the years.
But recently she was requested by the Royal family to be the magic instructor of the young Princess Penelope, and as the Fairy high council encouraged her to go Evie went with not a little trepidation- she had never been around such rich and imposing people, but she needn't have worried for she fit into palace life like a Cinderella's foot into a glass slipper (Or the fur slipper depending on which version you read.)
She found in Penelope a willing and gifted student and the two girls got on splendidly together, Penelope loving her magical teacher and Evie mothering the little Princess to her hearts content.
But there is more to her duty then simply teaching, she is also the protector of the princess for the Fairy high council sensed a growing threat for the princess- a threat that would change the course of the kingdom if she wasn't protected.
So Evie is both teacher and watchdog for the Little Princess, both duties she performs willingly- for a piece of her considers the child, her own.
Magic: Emotion magic. Evie is able to manipulate her emotions in such a way as to make others feel them in a painfully concentrated form. She does this constantly- she has no ability to stop it, but only when her emotions are heightened can others feel it in such powerful ways- most of the times they write it off as the Aura of the fairy they are feeling.
And as a Fairy Evie is able to change her form at will into nearly anything she desires, but this can take time- so she often sticks to one other form, that of a small orange tiger kitten. Princess Penelope can be often found carrying a small kitten, this is Evie. She finds a small kitten is less noticed then a fairy and when she desires to go unnoticed she uses this form.
What their Puppeteer doesn't know about them: She has a mysterious illness. Controlled by: Walter (Mine) Other: Evie is left handed and can sing and dance very well. Her voice is haunting and like many Fay woman has a enchanting effect on some.
"D*** the torpedoes! Four bells! Full speed ahead!"~ Admiral David Farragut
Name (and gender if it's not obvious): Andrea Raithwall
- Age (12 to whatever, but normal human age): 18
- Appearance (pics welcomed, but written required.. Keep on the real people pics, though): A short girl like most, fine toned arms and legs and silver eyes, short dirty blond hair that goes down to her shoulders. During cooled winter days she tends to have on light dark jeans and a white t-shirt and black North Face jacket. During the hot summer months, she tends to wear light stuff, a dark blue summer jacket, with capri's and a dark yellow t-shirt.
- Personality (make it a couple of paragraphs): Andrea is cold and confident in what she can do, the confidence leads her to be cocky and arrogant in what she thinks she can do, but really can't. Andrea though thanks this cold confidence of hers comes off as menacing and gives her a look that says "Stay away as far as possible from me." Her as a person, she isn't an easy person to deal with, in fact she tends to make more enemies than friends.
- History (what time (and place) are you coming from, what got you into writing, about family, so on) Coming from a mother who works as nurse, and a part time writer as a hobby, a father who was once a marine, and a school girl that was bullied for her slacking off and some how coming back at the last second to pass a class. That was just the beginning, other reasons she was bullied was because of her higher than usual intellect, and much more mature mind. She came to give a menacing look about her because of the bullying, it's often scared others off and protected her from conflict.
She eventually picked up on writing and became a hobby, she always ended up losing the pages of her writing, but never really cared enough to truly chase them down.
- About your writing (well, obviously fantasy-ish at least, but give us some details.. Do you like happy endings, do you care for your characters, do you see them as people, do you like it complicated or simple, is there love and so on): Andrea's writings often reflected her emotions, the emotions that she bottled up over time during her high school years, the characters she makes often reflect a certain emotion or group of emotions. Two characters always showed up in her writings, both represented her emotions as a whole, both represented the good and evil of her writings. One character is Gemini Randa, she represented the evil of Andrea's heart. The second character known as Kimiko, represented the good of Andrea's heart.
- The way you described the World (the world of the Puppets, that is, where we will all end up, give us a part of the description, of the place where your story is happening or such): Numberous writings often depicted the world that the two lived in as corrupted, sad, and wasted on petty ideas of glory and fame, the world was seen in Andrea's eyes as miserable, basically think of the world we live in now.
-Their Puppets (if controlling the other writer's Puppet character, only fill this when you're sure they're ok with it): There her own, and they remain that way.
- Other: None at the moment.
An angel, a knight, a man who will bring light to where there is only darkness, I am the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, hail to me as I am King Lucifer!
With blood and ink, he made his promise. The smells of burning paper and the echo of tears still tainted the air of the city in clouds, as the tower raised from the lake, high over the trees of the Wild. It was the end of one and the beginning of other, Corin knew it very well - but if emotions were what kept him from eternity, then he knew he had no other choice. And besides, one can do everything if they have enough time.
"Good night," I whispered to the moon, leaning against the wall and holding to my pen as if I was to die without it. I could feel the papers in my pockets, and hear them moving as I breathed - making that familiar, sweet noise that reminded me of untold stories.
I could have sworn that I only closed my eyes for a moment. ~*~
First was the smell. Damp leaves and flowers, deep scent of the forest and calming smell of a lake. Then there was the noise - or better said, complete lack of it. I could hear no cars, no cursing of the people passing by, no crying of little children or laughter of the couples in love; nothing. Slowly opening my eyes, I watched as tiny flowers red as blood leaned to my face, as if in a greeting gesture. I lied on the leaves of amber, and not far from me, a spider lied on its back, leathery wings crushed under his body. Taking a breath, I got up, finding myself in a forest with no sound nor sun, trees so high they seemed to be connected with the sky itself. Something flew right in front of me, forcing me to take a step back.
As I felt the ice cold water over my foot, even before the silence was broken by the sad, eerie sounds of the violin, I knew where I was.
Slowly turning around, my eyes crossed the lake, dark ad reflecting the trees above, so deep no one could have touched the bottom, so calm it seemed like glass - and I took a step back again. On the very middle of the lake, dark water falling from the wings of its statues, stood the tower. Lean and seemingly made of the glass water itself, softly glowing from some internal light yet only appearing transparent, its parts slowly turning and changing, following the visible construction of the clockwork-like mechanism. The tower which, I knew, hosted a magnificent mind and a marvelous power - the tower in which the villain of my darkest thoughts planned his every move.
Corin. His name came to me in my sleep, one windy winter night as I left the foster care once and for all, and he stayed with me for all that time. My obsession and the person I made as a collage of people that destroyed my life, the creation I was most proud of and a nightmare I never wished to meet in flesh and blood - and I knew he was there, playing his violin and doing his magic, holding the strings in his hands, recalling the days he wrote the letters to his beloved. Princess Kyra. I smiled a little. The lady I wanted my sister or mother to be like, strong enough to protect yet gentle enough to never let go of someone she loved, princess of the Throne, living in the skies of the Celest.
Turning my back to the tower, I stared through the woods. This wasn't a dream, for no dream could ever seem so real. The worst villain I ever thought of, and the most powerful person I ever wrote, was just that much away - and I was afraid; afraid of admitting it's all real, afraid of seeing his eyes and meeting his magic. But if he was here, than so must have been princess Kyra. And if I could get to Celest... This part of the Wild, no matter how dangerous it was, wasn't unknown to me. After all, I wrote about it hundreds of times, and watched it in my mind as I read my own words over and over again. Hesitatingly, glancing behind at the tower and the calm lake - too calm, calmer than any lake should be - I made my way through the woods.
The walk didn't seem far, yet I knew it was just my luck. This part of the Wild and the Air City played games, and so did creatures living in those woods. Leaving the forest, especially for unarmed people who showed fear but meant no harm, sometimes could have been as easy as now it was for me - but getting back in, or as much as breathing in the wrong way, would make it take you in and never let go, freeing you of your soul and slowly taking away all but your will to serve.
Staring at a small market, which I was sure I have never written a word about, I felt lost. The city of Celest wasn't there, not really - not for me to enter it. How could I have been so stupid? I wrote it so that only magicians could enter, didn't I? And waiting for princess Kyra to just happen to leave the town and take a walk on the line with the Wild, was like hoping to swim in the Sahara desert. With a whine, and grasping my hair, I payed absolutely no attention to my steps - that is, until I bumped into someone and almost lost my balance.
The guy caught me before I fell down, holding my wrist and with a blank expression on his face. From what i saw in his gray eyes and blonde hair that perhaps should have been tamed but wasn't even close, he could have been in his twenties at most. He wasn't someone I recognized, nor did he catch me, as I figured a second later, to save me from falling - more likely, if I fell right in front of him, he would have tripped as well, and he didn't exactly seem to have wanted that to happen.
"Sorry," I muttered, caught by a surprise as he just glared at me. The language, I said to myself, of course. I repeated my apology on the language I thought of for my novel, the one happening in this world, language now obviously spoken by everyone. For a moment, I couldn't help feeling proud - that is, until I recalled that he wasn't my invention at all. "My name is Lilith. Would you mind telling me where I am?" I had no idea what to ask. Was it polite to just ask a random person for their name? I suddenly couldn't remember the details - I never payed as much attention to the world as I did to the characters.
"In my way," he said in reply, not even sounding bored or annoyed. I opened my mouth to ask him for his name - or say that I regretted apologising to him - as a hound the size of a bear walked over to his side. It was black and seemed strong, and its eyes flew red. A hellhound, I thought to myself, shit. How, even? In my story, no one but demons could have summoned them. In my novel, the one that seemed to have taken me in like a black hole, Corin made a deal with a demon who had a hellhound by his side. Corin killed the same demon, gaining some of his abilities, yes, but the hellhound never stayed in this world after its master was gone, ignorant to whatever demonic there was in my main villain.
But this young man, he wasn't a demon, he couldn't have been. They didn't look so normal, I was sure of it. Sighing, I moved a little to let him pass. Without a word, he took a step forward, but his guard dog stayed.
"Griz," the man muttered, his gray eyes locked on the hound's red, but if that was to be a calling, then his guardian wasn't trained all that well. Before I could say anything, move or even scream, the hellhound made a move, pinning me to the ground and growling, just a few centimeters from my eyes - his breath felt like fire.
I wished for swimming in Sahara to be possible. ~*~
~ Dorian, the Puppeteer
"So, what would you wish for?" A kid stared at me with a curious glow in his eyes, as I put away a puppet I performed a show with. It was a poorly paid job, one I couldn't have really lived from, but it was all that I had. Checking my pocket watch, I sighed. It was dark and it was late, and I didn't enjoy the Whitechapel quarter particularly - not with all that happened in it recently. Especially seeing that I knew some of the now dead ladies rather.. Personally.
"If I could have one wish, any at all?" I asked and the kid nodded. I didn't need to think much. Beautiful women, exotic journeys and palaces made of gold, yes, but one above all. "I would have wished to visit one of the stories I wrote." ~*~
Opening my eyes, I found myself next to a fireplace, in a house that most definitely didn't belong to London. Well, I thought as I observed the wooden furniture and bottled ingredients on shelves on the walls, not London of my time anyway. I slowly turned around, staring at everything, not noticing my notebook and quill until after a moment. I bent down to fetch them for the floor, wondering how I got to wherever I was.
"Don't you move."
I froze, gripped my belongings and slowly stood up, not turning around to meet the person who spoke - I already knew, though I barely dared to hope, who it must have been. The only woman voice I knew of, that could have spoken in the language I invented for my characters to talk in.
I turned in a second, catching her by surprise, and couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Her blue eyes practically burning under the strands of blonde hair, she frowned and composed a rather puzzled expression.
"Who are you?"
I wondered if she could have felt it too - the connection, the strange warmth spreading all over the body, and something like sparks in the fingertips, that made me glance at them for a moment. Nothing was visible.
"Alayna," I muttered, covering my lips and forcing myself to stop grinning like an idiot. "Alayna Morgan. Oh holy God in-"
"Who are you?" She took a step forward, with her knife pointed at me - of course, she had it along all the time - and seeming at the same time angry and scared. Well, after all, I had better standings, knowing who she was. She had no way of knowing who I was, let alone just how connected we were. I made her. Could I have said it to her?"
"My name is Dorian," I performed a tiny bow, followed by her eyes. "And you... You look exactly how I imagined you." ~*~
~Penelope, the Puppet
My sister's chambers were locked and guarded, not letting anyone but family in or out, but she seemed to think of everything but that. Kyra was the most beautiful girl I ever saw - I could have only hoped to grow up to look like her - with her golden eyes and hair somewhat darker than mine, and that expression that just told I'm going to be your queen.
"What are you thinking of, Nelly?" She would always call me Nelly. Never Pen or Penny, like others would tend to do. I felt like blushing a little, and looked down at the flower in my hands.
"You," I confessed. "When this roses grow, they will look so pretty in your hair, and the dress - I want to get married in a dress like that!"
She sighed, turning to look at the dress on the bed, awaiting for her maidens to come and assist her with it. It wasn't much till winter, and Kyra was to marry, at last, after all the months of crying and screaming. I didn't like the palace as quiet as it seemed to be now, but I preferred it over yelling of our father and curses my sister told as if she didn't know she could have accidentally casted a few that way. She didn't like the groom, however, even though he was one of the nobles from the south, with a charming accent and curly golden hair, and eyes in colour of the ocean. I could have imagined their children being adorable - I wanted to see them as soon as possible, and get a playmate whom I could teach tricks. Kyra's children would be Emotion Mages as well, wouldn't they? Even though I knew it was usually random, I had such feeling - and after all, our mother was like us as well, wasn't she?
"I would burn it to ashes if I didn't know they'd just find me a new one," Kyra said, still staring at the dress. I knew what she was thinking of, or better said who, though she should have known there was no point in that. The lover she barely even met, her Emotion Mage who grew her white roses and told her stories of demons, the Mage cast out by her parents and the Council, hunted down and killed for not letting her go, the man Kyra was still hopelessly in love with even though she saw his grave numerous times.
My sister gave me a little smile. "It will all be fine, Penelope," she said, stroking my hair, and kissed the tip of my head just as the door let her maidens in. "Go now, I seem to be suddenly busy - and it's time for your lessons as well, isn't it?"
I nodded and practically ran out, followed by the glares of her maidens and the guards. I didn't like any of them.
Little orange can joined me as I stepped out in the garden, and I smiled a wide smile. "You can be yourself now, Evie," I said, and the cat's head cocked to the side. I opened my mouth to say something more, when I suddenly saw something moving, out of the corner of my eye. Shrinking my eyes, I walked through the tall grass of the garden, gasping as I found what caught my eye.
A man I never saw before lied on the ground, seeming to be awakening just now - and he wasn't right with his clothes and appearance, not at all. I couldn't feel anything magical about him, but also nothing hostile - really, I felt like poking him to see what he was like when he speaks.
"Penelope, no." Evie was herself again. I would have said her human self, but really, that wouldn't be much of the truth. Her wings seemed to be moving a little, as if stretching in expectation to be used. I wondered if she was doing it on purpose, and I wished I could fly like that. She approached the man slowly, as I felt my fear growing. When I was afraid, I tend to lose my ability to control my magic - this time, a lightning cut the sky and rain fell down, waking the man up. I hid behind Evie, peeking in his direction as he slowly sat up on the ground. ~*~
• previously ChildOfNowhere - they/them - literary fantasy with a fairytale flavour
Eva is a beautiful child. She loves dressing up in dresses, mostly of the black color range. She’s always wearing her black maryjanes with white socks. Her eyes are captivating green blue and her small bow lips are perfection. Smooth and flawless skins the color of honey. Maryjanes: (Bellow) Spoiler
Personality: Though Eva is perfect on the outside, inside she’s twisted and evil. It’s like she has a split personality, at one time she can be charming and sweet but a split second later she’s screaming that she’ll kill you. She’s deceptive and conniving and always looking for ways to make others miserable. If she’s not happy, you’re not happy. Though she’s young she’s intuitive and knows when someone’s lying to her. For someone to get away with a lie they would have to know her pretty well, but even then she’s very suspicious. She’s secretive and she’ll tell you what you want to hear, but don’t take her word for it, she’s probably thinking of the best way to pull one over on you. She’s selfish and doesn’t like to share and of you happen to look at her the wrong way, beware. Eva is a child through and through, she throws tantrums when she doesn’t get what she wants and would kill almost anyone to get it. She doesn’t like anyone telling her what to do or that she can’t do something because she’s young. She pretends that she’s an adult and get’s mad when people treat her like she’s stupid. She’s not. She’s super smart and calculating and can make almost anyone believe whatever she says.
History: Eva is from modern day and she’s coming from her private school where she was sitting in the library writing. Eva started writing two years ago when she started being abused by her step-father. He would make her do things that she didn’t want to do and beating her if she didn’t comply. Her mother knew all about the molestation and she did nothing about it. Her mother would cry and say she was sorry but Eva grew to hate her. Eva believes the world turned its back on her and feels the need to take revenge on anyone around her. When she started being abused she would write her feeling down in a journal, writing story after story. Eventually she would make stories of killing people and she liked it. She fantasized about killing her step-father and her mother and made up stories about how each of them would die. She’s an only child and says that she doesn’t feel lonely, but she really does. When she finds someone she “likes” she’ll become possessive. About your writing: Eva likes to imagine up people who are evil and menacing but not outright so, many of her characters have characteristics of the Evil step father who was nice to the world but evil to her. She wishes that her characters would come to life and save her, like nobody else would. She likes happy endings in the sense that somebody dies or is maimed. Eva likes to make sure that her motives are clear in the stories that she writes but she liked to add tricks that people normally wouldn’t guess. She’s very…tactile with her characters, their like an army to her; obeying her every order, listening raptly. She believes that love is absolute power over someone else, she doesn’t know anything else. Where does your story begin: Where Evas story begins is, she’s just had Leo stalk someone with the intent to kill. He’s had a pretty rough day and it’s been hard to keep himself in check, the person he’s stalking is a heckler that has bothered him relentlessly all day. Puppets: Leo
I bolted down my food and dashed up the stairs before my parents could conscript me into additional chores. Slamming my door closed, my fingers fumbled with the latch in excitement. My day was so boring so far, and I was just really eager to get to work on my novel. Besides, I had just thought of another mission Aenon could give Lienei...
I pulled my notebook out from under my pillow and began writing.
Aenon lounged causally on a couch, head resting on one hand. His latest lover, sobbing, shrieked, "I thought you loved me!"
He just shook his head. "Then you're a complete idiot who deserved me abandoning you." She ran, slamming the door closed behind her. Aenon grinned lazily. "It's just far too easy." He pursed his lips. "Probably shouldn't have offended her. Her father is rather powerful..." He snapped his fingers. "Lienei."
~*~
I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up on a cold hard floor. Something was scratching my nose. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw a fairly plump black cat sitting on my chest, licking me. "Off!" Pushing him away, I sourly reflected that cats had a tendency to find the people who dislike them anywhere.
Oh. I knew this place. The walls were covered in childish drawings, although I occasionally spotted a good one among the masses. A ragged rug with lots of small signs of wear and tear covered the center of the cylindrical room. The room was well-lit by flickering lanterns. Small beds rested against the wall, and from within them, children stared at me, wide-eyed.
I waved a hand in the air and tried my best for a smile. "Um, hi?" I said in the language I had built for this world. One of the kids screamed.
And then she entered, scooping up one of the smallest children in her arms. Lienei Isrine, the Mage Assassin. I couldn't help staring. The woman was exactly how I had imagined her, as white as the pages of my notebook, with pale hair and watercolor blue eyes. She looked as if a single breath of wind could blow her away, but I knew better. My Mage Assassin.
I stood and shakily outstretched a hand. "Hello. Demeter Morelli, but you can call me Demi. It's...interesting to meet you." Especially since I was just planning out her death scene. Very tragic and all, with the oldest of the children vowing to avenge her. But also awkward. I remind myself that this very real-looking woman in front of me was nothing. Only a product of the words in the notebook at my side.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "You don't seem to have any magic. How do you know my name, and how did you get here?"
I smiled, shaking my head. "You're my Mage Assassin, Lienei. I know everything about you."
~*~
Lienei
I just stared at Demeter, not sure what to do. She had children with mental issues to take care of once or twice, but this was ridiculous. How was she going to help this girl? And where had she got her information? I dismissed her claims immediately, of course, ignoring the pins-and-needles sensation that spread over my body when I looked at her. It couldn't be true.
A knocking sounded from downstairs, and I mentally added Aenon to my list of problems. "Dorian, make sure Demeter doesn't hurt herself while I'm talking with Aenon. Ayesha, can you get breakfast?" They nodded, Dorian taking Demeter by the hand and leading her away, and Ayesha shepherding the other children down to the kitchen. I firmed up my resolve, ready to deal with a visit from my master
I swung the door open nervously. The tall dark youth standing in the woods was exactly who I had expected, but had hoped wasn't the one anyway."Aenon. Come in."
Shoving past her, Aenon growled, "What took you so long? We need to get down to business."
"It's always business to you, isn't it?" I sighed, slumping in a nearby chair. "Who do you want me to kill this time?" Probably another business rival. It's a surprise none of the Candirans are suspicious yet.
Before Aenon could answer, Demeter ran down the stairs, followed by Dorian desperately trying to pull her back. I rested my head in my hands. Aenon hated the kids. "No, no, no..."
Demeter ran up to me and grabbed one of my shoulders. "I told you before, you have to believe me! I'm not crazy, and if you just read this notebook, you'll see."
I shook my head and barely glanced at it. Crisp white pages. "It's blank, girl."
She fell back, shock written across her face. "No..."
Aenon shook his head, the slightest smile playing across his face, and I immediately groaned. It was easy to see where this was going.
Leonello Baldovinetti - Puppet I smiled as the children - and some of the adults - in the crowd that surrounded me 'ooh' and 'aah'ed as glowing butterflies flew out of my violin and exploded in small bursts of light. It was colorful and suited the happy melody perfectly. When I finished the melody I got a loud round of applause and took a silly little bow that made the girls giggle. They loved me already. Well, they couldn't help it, could they? Sweet, sweet Leo. The young violinist that always smiled and was as harmless as a breadcrumb. I had to stop myself from snickering. How I loved to make people fall in love with me and then see their admiration be turned to fear as I showed them what I really was.
"Any requests?" I couldn't make out anything in the loud sorl that rose, so I fixed my gaze on a young innocent looking woman. Oh, how those perfect red lips and blue eyes made me long to make her scream in agony. "How about you, milady? What would you like me to play?"
She flushed as she asked me to play some sappy love song that had recently grown popular. I did what she requested, and I even sang. Of course I locked eyes with her and made her think that every sicklishly sweet word was meant for her. Afterwards, when I was putting my violin in its case, she approached me and asked if I wanted to have a coffee, or maybe some tea, with her later. I smiled as I always did and told her to meet me at nine outside the town's best cafe. That gave me a few hours to dump the girl from last night and rinse the blood of my instruments. I liked them clean and gleaming in the floresent lights of my basement. Nothing said 'playtime' better than a clean scalpel.
As I unlocked the front door to the little house that I had 'borrowed' I felt eyes on my back, so I turned to look. A little girl was standing in the middle of the street, staring at me with eyes that somehow seemed pleased. She was looking at me like she knew exactly who I was, and she seemed to like it. For a moment I thought she was some kind of evil creature who wanted to drag me down to hell, and I felt my panic rise. She was connected to me somehow, I just knew she was.
"Hello, Leo." Her slight accent only served to make her voice sound even more eery.
"Who are you?" I asked calmly and tried to sound as pleasant as I could.
"I'm Eva. I'm the one who made you." I stared, dumbfounded. I wanted to object but somehow I knew than it was true. Her piercing eyes seemed to look into my soul and made me feel oddly exposed. "You've been a bit sloppy lately, haven't you? There's a bloodstain on your right sleeve." I quickly looked down on the cuff of my shirt. I had seen it this morning but thought it was so minute that no one would notice. It wasn't the only thing I had ignored lately. I had nearly gotten discovered the other day when I was dumping a body in the river. "I didn't make you that way. You're supposed to be perfect."
"Then what would you have me do?" I still hadn't decided if she was a devil or an actuall human, but she obviously knew everything about me, and it was actually quite flattering to think that I was the produce of an evil child's mind. After all, what could be more scary?
"Let me in and I'll tell you. It thought of something great just now. Oh, and I'm hungry so make me a sandwich."
"Yes, Princess," I said as I held the door open. She turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. "Do you want me to call you something else?"
"No, that will be fine."
And just like that I had a little princess in my home, a princess who wanted me to get even more blood on my hands. I had wished for someone to understand me and keep me company, and who else could understand me better than my own creator? A burst of admiration struck me, and I felt a big smile sprea on my face. It was a real smile, not one of those sweet ones that I showed in public.
Anna Urushibara - Puppeteer The demon could feel his unexplainable longing for the boy grow stronger with every day. Whenever he was alone he'd realize that a relationship between the two of them was impossible, but as soon as Oliver entered the room he'd change his mind and believe that maybe it would work out despite everything. These sudden changes baffled him, for he knew that believing and hoping was something that only idiots did, and he wasn't an idiot.
The demon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when the boy and his monstrous hound stepped inside his throne room. Not until he felt a gentle hand touch his cheek did he realize that they were there, watching him. This he took as yet another sign of his deteriorating powers. He looked up and met the soft grey eyes of the blond boy, and couldn't help but liken them to two moons. His two private moons.
"Yes?" He said with a voice void of emotion, careful not to show the turmoil underneath his facade.
"We're running out of food. I'm going to get some more." The boy was also trying to hide his emotions, but failed miserably. He, unlike the demon, hadn't had several millennia to perfect the art. It was obvious that the demon's presence had a strong effect on him. He had trouble standing still, his eyes were darting from one place to the other, he was blushing, his heart was beating faster. The demon picked up on all of these things, and he found it just as adorable as he found it annoying.
"Take Griz with you." The boy excused himself and left the demon to his thoughts again.
---
I sighed and put the pen down. This was getting me no where. What decision would Dusty make? Would he realize how much he loved Oliver and then take him on as a lover, or would he refuse to acknowledge his human feelings and turn Oliver down? I could see both scenarios, and I wasn't sure I liked either one. Refusal would lead to them either becoming enemies or killing themselves in a very Romeo and Juliet kind if way, while realization would lead to.. It would lead to a very long and very complicated story which I could see no end too. Oh, if I could only talk this through with Dusty. This would all be so much simpler.
My stomach growled loudly. Really, I shouldn't write when I'm hungry it always influenced my writing. Maybe I could find the answer in a sandwich? I had found ideas in stranger places, after all. I opened the door to the refrigerator and spotted a jar of pickled cucumber and some pâté. I snickered. How typical of my dad and his Swedish taste buds. Well, it would have to do. I made my sandwich was just about to take a bite when I realized that the kitchen had become seriously cold. When I turned around to see where the draft came from I found myself staring at a tree. A huge tree. I dropped my sandwich, but never closed my mouth. What the..? I tried rubbing my eyes, but it didn't help. When I turned back the kitchen was gone and instead I was facing the collapsed side of a castle.
The realization came to me slowly and when it had all sunk in I did the only thing a girl in my position could do. I convinced myself it was a dream and decided to explore the castle. Maybe the answers to my questions would come to me in this dream.
Dusty - Puppet There was a human in my castle. Normally I wouldn't care, but this girl was headed straight to my chambers, as if she knew exactly where she was headed. The strange power she admitted sent chills up my spine, something that hadn't happened since I met that woman that took my powers.
"Hello, is anyone here? Dusty? Oliv.. Gah!" As she entered my throne room I pulled her in and slammed her into the opposite wall using only my mind. I was holding my hand towards her, as if I was holding her towards the wall.
"How did you know where to find me?" I said. I let no emotions show in my voice nor in my face. I eased the pressure just enough to let her speak.
"You're the main character in my book." I pulled her out a bit from the wall and then slammed her into it again. Tears fell from her eyes and I couldn't stop myself from smiling. That was what you got when you lied to a demon. She mumbled something in a language I didn't recognize.
"Answer my question, or I'm going to break your fingers." To show her that I was serious I made her hold out her hand and then started pushing her index finger backwards until I felt some resistance.
"Please stop. Please I'm just a writer. You're in.." She whimpered in pain as I pushed harder, but not hard enough to break it. I could see the panic spreading in her eyes and he sobbing grew louder. I pushed a little bit more, and then a bit more. Just a little more and I would hear the crack of her bones. "No. NO!" My powers suddenly stopped working and she dropped to the ground. I made a move to pick her up again, but she looked up at me with an expression I couldn't quite make out. "I forbid you from using your powers on me again!" That creepy power was oozing of her, suppressing my own powers. What type of magic was this? I had never felt anything like it.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"I told you already! I'm Anna, the person who imagined you and this castle and Oliver and Griz. I came up with all of it."
"You're lying. Do that again and I'm going to kill you.. To hell with it, I'm just gonna kill you right now."
"Hah, I'd like to see you try!" Her eyes had become strangely confident, and I didn't like it at all. I took a step towards her, and then another one. "Don't get any closer!" I froze in the middle of a step. "I'm the one who made you, so you have to do what I say." It sounded like she was talking to herself rather than to me. This whole experience was starting to scare me, and I couldn't even remember the last time I was scared. There was nothing I could do to stop her. I tried using my powers on her again, but found that I couldn't even move.
"What are you doing to me?" I hissed behind closed teeth.
"I don't know. I don't even know why I'm here. It can't be a dream, 'cause dreams can't hurt, right?" She was asking me? Why did she look so damn confused? And what was her intentions? The questions were pilling up, but I doubted I would get any answers from her. She had me in her power now, and there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how defenseless I had felt when I lost most of my powers, this was worse. I was completely at her mercy.
From deep within my mind I felt a tingle. A warning from Griz. For a moment I let my throne room disappear and chose instead to look through Griz's eyes. There was a woman beside Oliver, and she emitted the same type of power that this one did. No, it couldn't be. That someone could control me was bad enough, but Oliver? I ordered Griz to pin her down until I got there. I had sworn that I'd kill anyone who hurt him, and I was not about to break that promise. The sudden burst of anger enabled me to free myself from my invincible shackles. Seems like I was strong enough to resist her after all.
I chuckled as I walked up to her and closed my fingers around her neck. "No one is strong enough to control me, not even you, witch. Seems your friend is after Oliver. Why don't we go and watch as I let Griz rip her throat out?" She tried to speak, but I just tightened my grip around her neck. She seemed to be unable to do anything if she couldn't speak, so I would just have to keep her mouth closed. I focused my power on her lips, inabling her to move her lips. I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder before walking out of the castle, a grim smile on my lips.
---
It didn't take long for me to reach the village, but when I did it looked deserted. The villagers were cowering in their houses. I spotted Oliver leaning towards a wall, a half eaten apple in his hand. As usual he looked like he just wanted to get away from there. He hated humans more than anything, and was obviously only sticking around because he was waiting for me. Griz was still pinning the girl to the ground, just like I had ordered him to.
I tossed the first girl down on the ground beside the second one and instructed Griz to back of, but only enough to let the second girl sit up. "Now, why don't you start by telling me who you are, where you've gotten those powers from and why you're here. Oh, and don't even think about trying to control me, 'cause that didn't turn out too well for your friend here." As if to confirm what I had just said the girl tried to speak through her closed lips and when she found she couldn't she started crying. The bruises on her neck were staring to show. Oliver look at them with equal disgust and hatred. He didn't know what had happened, but I didn't need to tell him that it was something bad if I was willing to come out from my castle at this time of the day.. And even if they hadn't done anything he still had no qualms about killing humans just for the greater good. He'd once told me that he saw other humans as weeds that needed to be pulled up with their roots. I shared that view, though I saw them more like carrots. Tasty snacks.
“Are you looking for sympathy? You'll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis” ― Thomas Harris
... and that's when he figured out the way to beat the mad scientist. All Chris needed to do was...
All he needed to do was...
Was...
I put my pen inside my notebook and shut it. I figured that trying to force a solution on to my characters wouldn't work, so perhaps calling it a night would. I stretched and laid back in bed, setting my notebook down on my chest.
"Maybe if I could see them just once, I could figure it out," my eyelids felt heavy, "Just... one time."
* * *
My bed felt hard, almost like I was sleeping on cement. Wait, that wasn't right. I opened my eyes and sat up to find myself on the sidewalk.
"Hm, I must've been sleepwalking or some-" I stopped talking as I found myself staring at into a yard that didn't belong to me. "What did I drink last night?"
I stood up and took another look around. I had never been here before, had I? I mean, this was nothing like the New York cities I was used to. There were no street signs, and the streets themselves were paved with dirt instead of asphalt. The sidewalks were no better, they were full of cracks with weeds growing out of them. The only decent things to look at were the houses, they looked at least as good as my own. In fact, they almost looked like something I would've made myself.
"Who are you?" A voice came.
I turned to find myself facing a nightmare of my own creation, "Jack?" He was the spitting image of my imagination, hockey mask and all.
He tilted his head to the side, "Our names sound alike."
"Huh? Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I'm Veeren, I... I created you."
He looked at me with a weird twitch in his eyes. I didn't remember making him do that. That Jack I made was cold and calculating, and would easily dismiss what I just said as a lie.
"And they call me crazy." He brought his hands up and revealed a long needle in between each of his fingers.
I knew what came next, and brought my hands up to shield my face. Only then did I realize I was holding my notebook and pen, but that wouldn't matter now. Soon, I'd be feeling a sharp pain, then wake up covered in sweat, gasping for air.
But nothing happened. I opened one eye and took a peek at Jack. He was standing there frozen, and out of the tips of my fingers there were thin, wire-like strings pointed directly at him.
Chris Leon - Puppet
Something wasn't right, I could feel it. I got out of bed and removed my antique sword from under the bed. Once I took it out of its scabbard, I made my way downstairs, where the feeling of danger was even stronger.
Could it be him? No, he would never show up to my house, he didn't play like that. I jerked around and looked all over my livingroom, only to find my furniture and their shadows. There was no one here, but I still felt worried.
I took a step towards the door and rested my free hand on the knob, almost too scared to turn it. I looked down at my fingers, they were trembling. What's the matter with me? I've never been scared of this guy before. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and rushed out on to my front porch to find myself looking at a kid and...
"Hey!" I yelled, "Get away from him!"
I ran on to the sidewalk to where the boy was standing, Once he saw me, he dropped his hands and stared at me in surprise, while the masked man disappeared.
"Dammit!" He got away again.
"Um, Chris?" The boy looked up at me as if we were long lost friends.
"How do you know my name?"
"I made you."
I stared at him. "You... made me? Is that some kind of joke?"
"Chris Leon. You grew up an orphan, you were shifted from home to home, started working when you were young, tried you're best to get into a decent college, settled for mediocre jobs until you finally cut a break with the police force. They realized the potential of your mind and used you for many high profile cases in the short time you've been working. I mean, I'd go on, but then it gets personal."
No, no no no, nooo, no, no, "No."
There was no way this kid knew me. I'd never even seen him before, and I knew just about everyone in this town.
"What do you mean no? I just like, described your whole life."
"Go home kid, it's late. I don't wanna have to call your parents." With that, I made my way back inside. Hopefully , the kid wouldn't follow me.
Once I locked my door, I slumped down on a sofa and set my sword down. How did that kid know me? Was he a spy or something? Maybe he worked for the big city, and they sent him down here on business, maybe he had my files or something, I don't know. But all that talk about making me? It was nonsense, just plain nonsense...
That fear you were feeling wasn't coming from the mad scientist, it was from the boy.
I looked up at the ceiling, and for the first time ever I wondered how high it was from the ground. I mean, rope was cheap nowadays, right?
Jack Masters- Puppet
I peeked out from behind the tree. The detective had gone inside and left the boy on the street.
To think humans would be more concerned about other humans after they saw killer on the streets.
I licked my lips. The sensation of me wanting this boys blood was almost unbearable, but I couldn't hurt him. Not yet atleast. He was able to stop me from getting him before, but I'll make sure that doesn't happen next time.
What is it humans say to one another when they want to express their disapproval towards someone? Aversion? My aversion towards you is strong. Yes, I shall mention that next time.
I took one more look at the confused boy and then focused on the image of my house. Suddenly, everything was blurry.
"Love is the name for our pursuit of wholeness, for our desire to be complete."
I got up some time after the alarm rang out in my apartment, Andrew had left earlier I assume - if he'd come home at all last night. I got up out of my bed slowly but surely, eager and ready to face the day with enthusiasm.
But sadly enough for myself the protagonist, my enthusiasm and vigor was foolishly depleted just before reaching the door to the bathroom. I immediately crumpled under my own body wait to the floor near the shower. It took me several minutes longer to get up, get undresses, and then into the shower. Everything after that was easy, well, easier...
I really wasn't up for anything breakfast-y so I went downstairs and straight out across the way to the tube station and into the Starbucks.
"Good Morning, Kazran." said the girl at the register; Jenny, much like she had said most mornings preceding this one. She took my gold card and swiped it through the machine - I'd come and ordered the same black coffee so many times they'd probably programmed it.
"Actually, I'm thinking I'll be a little adventurous this morning. How about a scone?" I added. She giggled.
"Comin' right up, pet." she grabbed my drink and a scone and handed them to me.
"Thank You."
"So, what're your plans? Just planning to faff about the town again today?" she asked casually. Jenny was from Yorkshire, her Northern accent was significantly different from a central or southern accent like mine.
"No - certainly not enough time for faffing about today. I'll be taken' a crack at my novel." I smiled.
"Well, you have a damn good time with that." she giggled.
"I will." You could say our relationship was getting pretty serious.
I was back in my flat before a second had passed again - my office door was open. I walked in and sat right down in my chair in front of my desk with my typewriter like I had many days before. The giant window took up most of the wall to my left - giving me a splendid view of the fog.
It started like any other day he supposed, Ander had gotten himself into another predicament.
I wasn't planning to write about Ander today. I just liked to start with a line or two about him to get the ole' juices flowing. My latest work was centered around two characters, a girl, and a young boy. I hadn't truly decided what it was about yet, but it was coming along.
The hours bled away quickly, letters stamped with ink battered paper with a steady rhythm for millennium. It wasn't long until the sun had set, or was setting - I couldn't tell out of my window.
I ended the day with another line about Ander.
It was then that Ander truly realized the true meaning of christmas. He lived on happily.
I chuckle, reaching for the ribbon of my typewriter -
"Ow! Sh*t!" an electric shock jumped from the metal to my finger.
I got up, and left the room.
It was some time after that that I was watching the evening news on BBC1 while washing the dishes.
"And now, the Cup Update. Machester won over Chelsea 2 - 0 yesterday."
"Oh bugger me blind!" I would simply hope that Andrew didn't see the news and I wouldn't have to forfeit the whole twenty quid we'd been betting with on that game.
I finished the dishes and walked to my room to get ready for bed, but as I walked through the door frame I was struck with this terrible nausea. I collapsed.
Ander - Puppet
It was like any other day really. I'd gotten myself into another predicament.
Not really, but I needed a few dollars for dinner if I was going to go out with Jorge and the gang. Luckily, today was payday.
Working as a waiter in Velso was an interesting job - it payed well. Velso is an amazing destination for people traveling through going on their way to outlying districts and cities.
The day wasn't eventful in any capacity, not like most days lately had. Velso was having a sort of tourist dry-spell, but I did get the last five bucks I needed to go out tomorrow.
It was raining again, there was hardly a night when it wasn't - definitely something that you got used to. I enjoyed it to be honest, everything feels better in the rain. It adds a sort of depth and a weird sort of gloomy mojo to your day that is hard to come by in most places. Like all the troubles and the sorrows and the memories of the city were washed away nightly to make room from those to come the next day.
The walk to my personal home was a bit out of the way, I had to take a bus and then follow the road in the residential housing development. It totally wasn't worth it in my opinion to get a car. I was about 100 meters from my house when I say a figure appear. Not like he stepped out from around a corner, I mean that he genuinely appeared from thin air. As far as I knew I was one of the only people in the city who could do that...
He slumped to the ground.
"Well then, this is something." I rushed over to them. It was a man, maybe in his twenties. He had long black hair and glasses - I shook his shoulder.
"You alright man?" he grumbled.
"Well I guess you're coming home with me then."
I took him into my house and layed him down on the couch. I called my friend Jess.
"Yeah I'm serious, dude just appeared out of no where and crumbled on the ground." -- "Yeah, he's on my couch. Should I call someone?" -- "Well I'll see you later then."
I guessed then that I'd figure it all out when he woke up.
'...and at last, Mishiqua reached the shores of...'
Melody let out a yawn. She'd been getting overtired lately. I'll finnish it tomorrow, she thought. Then swiftly, she stuffed yet another page of her unfinished story into her straw mattress, snuffed out her candle, and collapsed into bed.
When Melody woke, she heard the soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the warm glow of the sun. Her eyes blinked open, and she winced. They stung with salt and... sand? Melody stood abruptly, only to fall backwards into the waves with an audible shriek. She eventually gained her footing and dragged her drenched skirts through the sand to a large stone. She sat down on and cleaned the sand off her dress. A large ocean harbour spread before her, and a large town with strange colourful buildings stood to her left. Where am I? she thought.Where in the world am I? Then she heard it, the singing. Melody followed the voice; It was just so beautiful. When she reached the far side of the beach, she then saw a beautiful young woman wearing a white dress. She was basking in the sunlight, and Melody noticed with a start, that she had a silver fishtail. Melody let out a sudden gasp. It was Mishiqua.
Mishiqua (Puppet)
Mishiqua abruptly stopped singing when she heard a small gasp. She also sensed a familiar, peaceful presence. Mishiqua turned around a saw a young girl. She was drenched and shivering. And alone, she realized. Poor thing. Mishiqua beckoned her closer. The girl complied. When she was close enough to hear, Mishiqua spoke, "Are you lost child? It's not safe to be out alone by the coast. There are very dangerous creatures among these waves you know. The girl merely nodded. Mishiqua tried again." Do you have a name? Mine is-" "I know. Mishiqua, my name is Melody." The girl (Melody) glanced down at the ground, then back up at her. "I, um, I believe I am lost. Do you know where we are?" Mishiqua was puzzled. How had she known her name? Perhaps she had magic, a seer maybe." We are in Candira." Melody gave her a blank expression. "Oh darling, you really are lost aren't you?" Mishiqua stood,-her tail now two long, slender legs-, and straightened her dress. She took Melody's hand and began to lead her to the town. "Where are we going?" "To a friend of mine's, she'll help us figure out how to get you home." What they didn't know though, as they walked through the sandy shores of Candira; Was that home, home was worlds away.
