Recent Statuses

8 mos ago
Amazes me how often adults complain about kids/teenagers. In my experience, the adults have always proven themselves to be WAY more problematic.
1 yr ago
writing helps with my depression but when I'm depressed I don't have the motivation to write.
2 yrs ago
Not sure if my eye is twitching because I'm deficient in every possible vitamin, or if I'm just irritated with life in general.
2 yrs ago
On the rare occasion that I socialize, it's never for fun. It's to save face.
2 yrs ago
Finals are done! Now to focus on what is really important. By important, I mean role play.


ᵀʰᶦˢ ᶫᵒᵛᵉᶫʸ ᵍʳᵃᵖʰᶦᶜ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵃᵗᶜʰᶦᶰᵍ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ᵐʸ ᶠʳᶦᵉᶰᵈ, ˢᶦᵃʸᵃ ᴰʳᵃᵍᵃᶫᵒʳᶰ⋅ ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ﹗

- A Land of Wonder and Nightmare with Siaya Dragalorn

- The Shackles of Revenge with Siaya Dragalorn

- Unnamed PM roleplay with EmyBear8913

Seeking: Seeking one more. If you like my writing style and think we'd be compatible, maybe we can work something out.
Genres: Fantasy, Modern, Horror, Slice of Life, Sci-Fi.
Fandoms: Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, My Hero Academia, Maze Runner, Marvel, Miraculous Ladybug.
Limits: For violence, I'm not picky. For romance, that would be limited. Nothing explicit.
Reply status as of 3/30: Going through a lot of personal stuff, so replies are kind of sporadic.

Most Recent Posts

Confident his charm was enough to secure them help, Ghent waited for Smaya to respond. His brows lifted at her comment of him being unusual, but he didn't disagree. Especially after discovering he wasn't even human.
Ghent’s hopeful smile wavered at the mention of a favor, doubt already creeping into the corners of his mind. He waited for her to go on, reluctant to hear what the request entailed.
As Smaya spoke of the illness plaguing Wonderland, Ghent nodded slowly. He couldn't forget the Curse if he wanted to; the topic came up more than he would like, and Drust was a constant reminder of it. The boy turned as Smaya approached the pool, his attention drawn to her hand when she reached for the water.
The serenity of the setting was short lived. The pool became polluted with dark veins reminiscent to those on Drust’s face, the water changing from crystal clear to bloody red. Ghent leaned forward to get a better look, disturbed by the images manifesting. The shapes resembled people of varying ages, each moving wherever their feet took them. They didn’t seem to acknowledge their surroundings, their eyes appearing deadened and unfocused as they trudged onward.
Believing the pool was a one way window, Ghent studied the lost souls without fear for his own safety. His expression grew increasingly troubled as Smaya continued, her words chilling him. This painted a bigger picture as to what the Curse was capable of, and who was affected.
"How can something be so powerful?" Ghent's voice was scarcely a whisper, his desire to survive feeling like an impossible dream. If the Curse was powerful enough to plague the dead, what hope did he have against it? What hope did anybody have?
Mind reeling with information, Ghent staggered back, startled when one of the smallest figures seemed to angle its hooded head toward them. In that moment, he understood Smaya’s sorrow.
“N-no, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” Ghent wanted to reassure the woman, her mournful sigh sending a pang of sympathy through his heart. As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes widened. If he kept his word, neither Drust nor Elayra would know about the danger threatening the realms.
Wishing he had the ability to think before he spoke, Ghent bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from making more promises. He didn't even know Smaya's proposition yet. He waited to be challenged with an impossible task, but it never came. For a moment, he wondered if he heard correctly. Her favor was simply that he didn’t forget them.
It was a selfless, honorable request. Ghent hardly knew how to use magic correctly, but he couldn’t bear to make Smaya more sorrowful than she already was. It was his turn to say something, but what?
"You know for second there, I thought you were gonna ask for my soul or something." Ghent laughed weakly, a feeble attempt to calm his nerves. Is everything a joke to you? Elayra's question from earlier sounded in his head, earning a sigh from the boy. "Sorry. Today's been crazy."
Ghent faced the pool again, reflecting on all that he learned. Either Smaya was desperate enough to tell him about the predicament of the realms, or she felt she could trust him. He suspected the first, but hoped for the later. After a long period of silence, he resumed eye contact with the woman, his mind made up.
“This is a lot to take in...but I’m glad you told me.” Ghent admitted, surprised by the maturity in his own answer. “I’m still new to all of this, and...uh, I sorta suck at magic, but I’ll do what I can to help. And…I won’t forget any of you. I promise.”
Sweet. I really like this idea, consider me interested as a possible villain.
Depending on the heroes to villains ratio, I wouldn't mind playing a hero instead.
Sent a PM your way!
Although his insides churned with anxiety, Ghent remained focused. Not long after he pictured Smaya, he experienced the change in the air as the Betwixt replaced the Safe Zone, challenging his senses to adapt within a matter of moments. The sounds of the campsite had faded completely, replaced by what he assumed was rushing water. Gone were the smells of smoke and wood, morphing into the sweet smell of earth, similar to that of freshly fallen rain. The temperature grew warmer and more inviting, offering an opportunity to escape the cold. Visually, everything was different as well, but Ghent hadn't opened his eyes yet.
Fearing what new horrors he might be met with, Ghent cracked open an eye. He looked to his hands as he flexed his fingers, relieved to find that he retained mobility. It was a promising start, a noticeable improvement over the last time he crossed over into the Betwixt. Even the emotions of the dead were gone; the only distress he experienced was due to his shiny new staff being left behind.
Tensing at the sight of the tendrils, Ghent swiped his hand through the air in an attempt to disperse the intrusive swirls. He got to his feet and hurried forward to escape them, turning his head in every direction as he absorbed his surroundings more with every step.
“What is this place?” The fear Ghent harbored was suddenly gone. The clearing was so unbelievably beautiful, he half wondered if he had somehow died during his transition from Hollow Forest to the Betwixt.
Awestruck, the boy walked onward until he stopped near the waterfall, a spectacular sight that defied gravity and logic all at once. He knelt near the edge of the pool to look in, the ripples obstructing what should have been his reflection. The flow of water was calming, hypnotizing. It was enough to make him overlook his aches and pains, his troubles brought on by Wonderland and those associated with it.
Rising, Ghent's gaze followed the waterfall until the sky took over his attention. He tilted back his head to get a fuller view, amazed by the show of stars above him. They looked close enough to touch, twinkling in a display that couldn't be rivaled.
Movements slow, Ghent pulled down his hood in order to have better visual, his dark black hair unruly as ever. He glanced to his side, nearly expecting to see Drust or Elayra there. It almost felt wrong to witness something so incredible on his own.
The thought was ironic, for in that very moment, a familiar voice sounded directly behind him.
"Whoa!" Ghent spun around, startled by the sight of Smaya standing so close to him. The woman was just as he envisioned her, her presence adding a surprising splash of color to the clearing. Unlike the Betwixt, she hadn't changed, her aura of sorrow prominent as ever.
"Oh man!" Hand on his heart, Ghent took a step back in order to see the taller woman's face. "You scared the crap out of me!" As soon as the words flew from his mouth, he regretted them. The statement probably wasn't the most appropriate way to greet the Guardian of Hollow Forest.
Thankful Drust wasn't present to chastise him, Ghent turned to watch the waterfall alongside Smaya. He glanced sideways at her as she spoke, fearing his outburst had offended her.
"Huh? Oh, yeah! It's not. Er. I is. We, uh...we don't have waterfalls like this on Earth." Ghent tripped over his words in his hurry to respond, feeling like the world's biggest idiot by the time he’d finished. He rubbed at his neck, touched by her welcoming him back. At least someone cared.
Wrapping the drawstring of his hoodie around his finger, Ghent studied Smaya through an occasional side glance. Much like Elayra, and females in general, she was impossible to read. Left with few options, Ghent decided to open the conversation by thanking the woman.
"My..." Ghent paused, brows pushed together with thought. He still didn't know what word to use for Drust and Elayra. 'Friends' was out of the question, and even 'companions' felt too chummy. He hated to think what they referred to him as. "My, uh, associates wanted me to let you know that they're grateful for your help," he continued without taking a breath, feeling a bit like a businessman leading up to an important deal. "I'm grateful, too. We wouldn't have made it to the Safe Zone without you and Margen. I...we really appreciate it."
Without giving Smaya much room to reply, the boy babbled on, his nerves aiding him in what threatened to be a long winded ramble.
"I know it’s asking a lot, but I was wondering if you would kind enough to help us again.” Ghent smiled as innocently as he could, the same tactic he used against his mother when asking for something expensive. “I know I just asked for help, but we're kinda at the mercy of the spirits, and, well, I was hoping you could use your super cool spirit magic to keep them in line for us.”
Jason chuckled after Ava rejected his offer, her words enough to wipe away his Cheshire-like grin. "Suit yourself. I'm sure Hannah will appreciate the company." He looked to Lydia, Ava's witty refusal annoying him more than he cared to let on.
"Well, you heard the lady,” he leaned forward again, peeking underneath the bill of her baseball hat. “How about it, Lidy? Want to go for a little spin?"
Stiffening, Lydia fumbled to catch the bright red helmet, her heart working overtime to catch up with her brain. A leisurely drive on a motorcycle with one's crush may have been a dream for some, but for Lydia Prescott, it was a nightmare.
Holding the helmet chest-level, she chewed her bottom lip, preparing to decline. "Thank you, but…I had plans today,” she glanced sideways at her best friend, clearly conflicted. Abandoning Ava didn’t feel right, but she also didn’t want to hurt Jason’s feelings. It was a no-win situation.
“But…I guess we could go,” Lydia offered, seeing what she perceived as disappointment in Jason’s face. “If it’s just around the block,” she added hastily, shifting her weight to her other foot. “And if it doesn’t go too fast.”
As if by magic, the answer brought Jason’s grin back. “Sweet! You won’t regret this.” He retrieved the black helmet from the shelving unit, tucking it underneath his arm. “And don’t you worry,” he snatched his keys from a hook on the wall, his expression suddenly serious. “I’d never put you in danger. That’s a promise.”
Throwing one leg over the body of the motorcycle, the burly boy got seated. He gripped one of the handlebars as he adjusted his helmet, leaving enough room for Lydia to board on the back.
Blushing furiously, Lydia pulled the helmet over her head, secretly grateful for something to obscure her reddened face. Any excitement she should have felt was overshadowed by the guilt she harbored. She wanted to apologize to Ava, or offer to make it up somehow, but she didn’t want to apologize for Jason being Jason when Jason was right there.
Sighing through her nose, Lydia drug her feet toward the motorcycle, trying to ignore the fact that her crush looked really cool in his helmet. His visor was still up, offering a nice, framed view of his perfectly blue eyes.
Stop that! Lydia kicked herself mentally, quick to avert her gaze. She began to board the VMAX, but a small thud at her hip reminded her that she was still carrying her bag.
“Hey, Ava?” Lydia slipped her arm out of the shoulder strap to her bag, extending her arm to the girl. “I’m entrusting my worldly possessions to you. If I don’t make it back, you’re welcome to everything in there,” she tried to joke, careful to keep the comment between them. “After this, we can go malling. Or anywhere you decide.”
Seated and situated, Lydia cleared her throat, her way of announcing she was ready.
"You good back there?" Jason turned his head to look in her direction, his voice muffled through his helmet. "I'm going to start her up now, so hang on."
Hang on? To what? Lydia’s eyes grew wide as the realization hit her. The only thing to hold onto was Jason himself. She eyed the back of his leather jacket as if it would magically supply some sort of solution, unsure of the least-embarrassing way to 'hang on'.
Before she could form the beginnings of a plan, the rev of the engine started. Yelling out in surprise, Lydia threw her arms around Jason's midsection and held on for dear life. The motorcycle was so loud, it was almost enough to drown out her embarrassment. Almost.
Jason didn't seem to mind, though. He laughed and said something she couldn’t hear over the too-loud machine. He saluted and winked in Ava’s direction before flipping his visor down. “Good luck with the mailbox, Red!”
With another roar of the engine, he took off, leaving the cluttered garage and Ava behind.
The look on Drust's face was enough for Ghent to stop speaking altogether. In the glow of the firelight, the ebony lines were more apparent than before, a stark reminder of the the Curse plaguing the man. Ghent's mouth dropped in protest, but no words came out. He couldn't believe how angry Drust got over a question that hadn't been fully asked.
While Ghent was fearing for his life, Elayra spoke up, which was more than he was able to do. He stammered the beginnings of a response, but he wasn't sure if Drust was able to hear, much less understand him. Thankfully, there was no need for further discussion. Drust broke eye contact.
With the unspoken threat of getting stabbed out of the way, Ghent remembered to breathe, his mind whirling with flashbacks of Drust charging him with the katana. He glared at the back of Drust's head, resenting him for his unpredictable, terrifying ways.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Ghent muttered underneath his breath while Drust complained about Earth's interpretation of Wonderland. "I used a movie as a reference, so what?" He rotated the staff to better observe it, grumbling to the weapon as if it would offer him a reply. "It's not like I came here thinking Johnny Depp was gonna be my freaking dad."
Ghent abandoned his mutterings at the mention of 'the Cat', which he assumed was none other than the Cheshire Cat. He was suddenly thankful he kept most questions regarding Wonderland's inhabitants to himself. The name might have escaped him by complete accident, and he really didn't want to be added to the list of those enslaved.
"So he's kind of like Bloody Mary, minus the mirror." Ghent mused, uncaring if the words made sense only to him. He didn't go out of his way to offer them any explanation, he felt satisfaction in knowing something they didn't.
Elayra wasn't the only one startled by the fire's spontaneous pop. Distracted by thoughts of evil cats and vengeful spirits, Ghent screamed a little despite himself.
Glaring at the fire for scaring him half to death, Ghent returned his attention to Drust. He had a feeling no amount of training would prepare him for whatever Caervolous had in store, but the chance to prepare helped soothe his badly rattled nerves.
"Guess I'd take a physical test over a math test." Ghent pulled up his hood to help warm his ears, discouraged by their lack of information. He almost asked if writing down the answers would work, but he knew that was too obvious. Surely something terrible happened if one attempted that.
"Thanks for the pep talk, but I'm getting back to work." Ghent moved so he was no longer facing them, his knee brushing against the journal from his father. He picked up the book, looking at it for a long moment before setting it aside. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't read it yet.
"In case you guys were wondering, I'm going to try contacting Smaya." Ghent closed his eyes to better focus, his heart giving a nervous stutter at the thought of returning to the Betwixt so soon after leaving it. "I know I'm asking a lot here, but try not to miss me too much while I'm gone."
Taking a breath, Ghent did what he could to tune out the world around him. He concentrated on focusing first and foremost, his mind working to envision the Betwixt and the details he remembered from his first visit. He pictured the unusual display of translucent trees and varying plants, and the gray, deadened coloration of the clearing.
Confident his mental imagery was accurate, Ghent focused on Smaya next. The green of her dress, the overwhelming sadness in her eyes. He remembered the peculiar way her fiery hair seemed to glow, a striking contrast against her pale skin.
Finally, Ghent's grip on his staff loosened. He felt a familiar shift in the air, daring to hope his efforts were not in vain.
Ghent held Drust's gaze, his mouth set in a stubborn line. It was the same look of defiance he got when he found himself in trouble for something he didn't do. In this case, he didn't feel he was underestimating Smaya. At least, not intentionally. He had reason to believe she had her limits -- she said herself she couldn't hold off the ghosts for long -- and he wanted Drust to know it.
Before he could inform Drust of his firsthand experience, Ghent's eyes dropped to the katana at Drust's side. He couldn't think of a way to tell the Knight without sounding like an opinionated know-it-all, which would likely anger him and lead to disaster.
What bothered Ghent more than walking on eggshells was seeing Elayra taking pleasure in him being wrong. He wanted to wipe the smug look off her face by asking her when she'd last spoken to the Guardian of the forest, except he didn't want to trigger the Curse. Instead of picking another fight, Ghent settled for saving his revenge for later.
"I guess there's no harm in asking her." Ghent offered, the words stiff and forced. He had his doubts and fears, but he saw the logic in contacting Smaya. They didn't have a lot of options, and she was the only one capable of helping them in such a forsaken place. If she was as strong as Drust thought her to be, it would be foolish not to seek her aid.
While Drust offered more information about Caervolous, Ghent leaned back to stretch his spine. His staff remained balanced across his lap, barely shifting despite the movement.
"Seriously? He's real too?" Ghent wasn't sure why the news came as a surprise to him, but it did. The temperamental, hookah-smoking caterpillar was impossible to forget. The thought of the insect being the inspiration for anyone was both frightening and hilarious.
"Does he..." Ghent stopped mid-sentence, unable to keep a straight face. He came dangerously close to asking if Caervolous smoked, but he decided against it when he saw the disdain from Drust. Ghent didn't want to be banned from asking questions relating to their present situation on top of everything else.
"Never mind." Ghent resumed a serious expression, waiting for the catch. Sure enough, there was one. A test. He hated tests.
"What kind of test?" Ghent demanded, suddenly sitting straight as a board. His hands moved to his staff at the fertilizer comment, and it was right then and there he decided he hated the man called Caervolous.
"The last time I took a test without preparing, I flunked it." Ghent rambled, his memories of high school far from forgotten. He frowned at them suddenly, wondering if they would have told him about the test had he not asked. "You guys really love telling me this type of stuff last minute, don't you?"
Ghent didn't react to the news. After the day he’d been through, the mention of the caterpillars didn’t faze him as it once would. He was willing to take insects over ghosts, blood-sucking or not.
His blue eyes flickered toward Drust, the Knight’s words doing little to ease his endless list of concerns.
Oh, so we're relying on Casper now? What kind of ghost is in a good mood?! Ghent shouted in his head. He pressed his thumb and pointer finger over his bloodshot eyes, keeping his sarcasm to himself. If they had to rely on the emotions of the dead, they were doomed. He was sure of it.
As Elayra mentioned the Guardian, Ghent turned his head to look at her. Smaya was the only ghost that didn’t scare him silly, but that didn’t mean he wanted to enter the Spiritayum a second time. He shuddered a breath, gripping the staff tight enough to hurt his palms. He didn't want to go through that again.
“Smaya just helped us, Blondie.” Ghent reminded her quietly, thinking back on his encounter with the eerily beautiful woman. “I don't know if she'd have enough power to help us again.”
Drust’s description of the Rabbit Hole wasn’t exactly what Ghent expected. There was no mention of a long, single tunnel you fell through. Instead there were tunnels. The Rabbit Hole in Wonderland -- the real Wonderland -- sounded like a labyrinth of sorts.
"Great. So if we're not stuck here, we might get lost there. That's reassuring." Ghent muttered, using his sleeve to wipe at his runny nose. He stopped, his eyes narrowing at Elayra’s description of the one called Caervolus.
“Hold on. What am I supposed to be ready for?” Ghent frowned, looking between Drust and Elayra for an explanation. Caervolus was beginning to sound more like a threat rather than a friend. He felt his insides knot with uncertainty, their comments troubling him. “Who is this guy, anyway?”
"Yeah, it's a Cruiser. Nice guess." Jason scoffed, his tone peppered with sarcasm. He readjusted one of his fingerless gloves, the Velcro crackling as the strap was tightened. "Just got her last week."
Hannah mewed somewhere from behind the convertible. Lydia stared between her best friend and her crush, half wishing she could join the traumatized cat in hiding. There was a hint of tension in the air, making the unintentional social call all the more unnerving.
Brushing her bangs to the side, Lydia stayed silent as Jason went on about tires and how the Cruiser was a Yahama VMAX. Lydia nodded at the right times and offered a 'wow', but wasn't sure what else to add after that. Thankfully, Jason was doing most of the talking, so contributing to the conversation wasn't entirely necessary.
While Jason went over some of the VMAX's features, Lydia found herself studying their surroundings. No matter where she looked, there was always something to look at. Scattered tools, a computer monitor with a crack in it, weights with rust on them. In the farthest right-hand corner, she noticed a Rubbermaid with the lid ajar. Flowers bleached by the sun poked out, faded colors of pink and red intermingling to create various shapes and shades.
Lydia's heart sank. They were artificial flowers, the ones typically left on the gravestone of a loved one. She remembered hearing about Jason's mother dying in an accident two years before she and her parents moved into Lion's Ridge.
Suddenly, Lydia was aware that Jason stopped talking. He was looking directly at her, one arched eyebrow raised. The boy had asked her a question, but she hadn't heard it.
"Uh, yes! I" Lydia quickly tore her eyes away from the flowers, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Judging by the look on Jason's face, neither answer fit with whatever it was he asked. "What was the question again?"
Jason chuckled lightly. He shook his head, whistling once. "Whoa. And I thought Gennings was in another world. You alright there, Lidy?"
Lydia's mouth dropped. Aside from Ava, no one ever called her Lidy. She glanced to friend for her reaction, silently praying the tension wouldn't manifest into an argument.
Jason smirked smugly. "You know, I wouldn't mind giving you ladies a ride around the block sometime." The invitation was plural, but he was looking directly at Lydia as he said it. "If that's cool with your parents, of course," he added, gesturing back to a metal shelving unit with his shoulder. Two helmets rested in the center, one black and one red.
The helmet wasn't the only thing red. Lydia's face was on fire. "They wouldn't care," she answered quietly, an pang of regret piercing her chest. She couldn't seem to think before she spoke around him, something that both frustrated and scared her.
Jason's eyes seemed to light up with amusement, his smirk widening. He leaned against the worktable, his scarred, muscular arms still folded. "Well? How about you, Gennings?"
Ghent didn't make it two steps before Drust cut in, foiling his plan to unsheathe the weapon. He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn't fault the Knight. The entire day had been a disaster; they didn't somebody getting maimed on top of it.
"I won't," Ghent answered through a sigh. Against his better judgment, he stole a quick glance in Elayra's direction. As he anticipated, the girl was smirking, her expression visible in the firelight.
Ghent continued onward, resisting a childish urge to stick his tongue out at her. He made sure not to wander too far, the possibility of an intruder breaking in still enough to turn his blood cold.
The cackle of a ghost sounded in the distance, a terrible sound made worse by the darkness. Ghent took a cautionary step back, his eyes wide and alert. He stared beyond the clearing, wondering if any ghosts were staring back. It was a terrifying thought.
Elayra's question was overheard next, causing Ghent to turn. It hadn't occurred to him until that moment, but he never thought to ask where they were going. Keeping his movements slow so he wouldn't miss the answer, he sat down, angled so he could see Elayra from the corner of his eye.
With his knowledge of Wonderland still limited, Ghent didn't know what answer to hope for. When Drust responded with the name of a town, he felt overwhelmingly relieved. Anything was better than another ghost-ridden forest.
Keeping his thoughts to himself, Ghent remained still, his staff resting across his lap. He looked down at his clothes when Drust mentioned them, suddenly aware at how much he would stand out if the rest of Wonderland dressed like Drust and Elayra did.
Ghent continued to listen in, content to obtain information without having to contribute to the conversation. He assumed Caervolus was another town, but soon learned it was the name of someone. Nothing more was said about the mysterious man, only that he had information they would no doubt need.
"Rabbit Hole?" Ghent echoed the name underneath his breath. He drummed his fingers against his knee, itching with questions. If the Rabbit Hole was anything like the one in the Disney movie, he had nothing to fear. He wouldn't mind falling in slow motion. It might be fun.
"Mushroom Gorge doesn't sound so bad," Ghent mused, using his sleeve to polish an imaginary fingerprint from the staff's gemstone. He hoped to earn its trust by keeping it nice and clean, which was more than could be said for him. Leaves, dirt, and grass clung and stained his clothes in different areas.
The conversation seemed to stop there. Ghent waited, hoping to learn more about the following day, but their travel plans weren't brought up again. Not by Elayra, at least.
"That means we're almost out of here, right?" Ghent spoke up, unable to stay silent a second longer. "Because I'm not spending another night in Ghostville," he informed them, as if he had a choice in the matter.
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