Recent Statuses

11 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.
3 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, The Promised Neverland.
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

Alrighty, sweet! Means I didn't mess up. Heh.

Ooh, mysterious. On Drust, that is...I have a feeling Ghent will get lost in the hood.

Glad I had him ask the right questions! As for the tidbit...(incoming spoiler for anyone lurking...)

...HATTER CREATED DRUST. You know...I'm not sure if I suspected that. I may have, had I thought about it, but it came as a surprise to me. So, so cool! I thoroughly enjoyed learning about Drust's abilities too. Ghent may need a while to take everything in.

Now for Story Time...

I have a lot to say about each, so I'll begin with my thoughts on part one.

*takes breath* Alright, now for my comments for part two.

As for the Vinifcium name info...

Thank you so much for explaining that! He'll be going through the journal soon enough here so that's really good to know. It also reminded me that I need to get thinking on an assumed name for him. Unless he wants to stick with Featherhead, of course. xD The entire concept is wonderful!
Ghent winced. Once again, he managed to get on Drust’s nerves. Or what was left of them. He shifted his weight to his other foot, making no attempt to speak in fear of agitating him. Hopefully the Curse wouldn’t rear its ugly head again.
As Drust began to explain about his memories being intact, Ghent relaxed slightly. Using his staff to support his weight, he leaned forward, listening with intense curiosity. Up until that moment, he thought the Knights were a class rather than a race. He took a breath when Drust addressed his special abilities, one of the questions that interested him most of all.
Ghent could barely keep up with Drust's many strengths and skills. “You’re like Wolverine or something!” he exclaimed, louder than he intended to. He clasped a hand over his own mouth and looked in Elayra’s direction, careful to lower his voice before speaking again. “He's a hero -- he has epic abilities too, and can withstand stuff that normal people can’t,” he explained, his words rushed in his hurry to speak without interrupting.
As if that wasn’t enough for Ghent to fanboy over, Drust informed him that a vinifcium had the potential to match a Knight in combat.
“No way…” Ghent couldn’t begin to imagine such a thing possible. At least, he couldn’t imagine himself against Drust. It was difficult enough fighting with his peers, how could he take down someone created for combat? By all accounts, Drust seemed indestructible. Except for his one weakness, of course.
While all of the information was new, Drust being weak against magic didn’t come as a surprise to Ghent. He remembered Elayra saying something about that during their misadventures through the forest. It was something he didn’t think much about before, but it was kind of awesome to have access to the Knight’s kryptonite.
“Sorry about earlier,” Ghent piped up, feeling compelled to offer some sort of apology. “I never meant to hit you. Or Elayra.” He wanted to ask how Drust used magic when it posed such a threat to him, but the Knight went on to reveal perhaps the most shocking piece of information about himself.
“You…what?” Ghent leaned too far forward and almost fell. He knew Hatter was powerful, but not that powerful. He stared at the Knight in a mixture of amazement and disbelief, his blue eyes wide with wonder. In that rare moment, he was at a loss for words.
“He created you?” Ghent blanched. “But, that’s…I mean,” he ran a hand through his hair before gesturing to him with the same hand. "Look at you! You're perfect! I can't even make a paper plane!" he paced back and forth, shaking his head while he tried to comprehend that such magic existed. The power to create beings was insane. Nearly godlike. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He couldn't believe he was the son of someone so exceptional.
Thirty-five years ago... Ghent stopped mid-pace, frowning at his sneakers in thought. He fell quiet again, but the silence didn't last long. "Did he create all of you? Or...were their other vinifcium then?"
He sat back, one knee bent and the other leg beneath him. He rested a hand on his raised knee, staring at the flickering flames as he recited the inscription.

Why is this the most beautiful sentence I've ever read?!


I had a few questions related to my post so I thought I would put them here.
First, I don't recall Drust's age ever being mentioned, correct? If it did, I can delete that from the questions Ghent asked him.
And this is a tad random, but does the cloak have a hood?

On a side but Drust related note, your current avatar {RotSH} gives off teen Drust vibes.

Update: minor edit, but I had to add the "what are you?" question to my post. An obvious one that I somehow forgot to add.
“We’ll have to work on few trust exercises before that happens.” Ghent joked, half serious. For the most part, he trusted the Wonderlander's, but not enough to feel at ease around them. Despite being linked by the past, they were strangers. More than that, they were unpredictable. Especially Drust.
Ghent jumped a bit when the logs collided, the sound louder to his ears than it should have been normally. He began to wonder how much they trusted him in return when Drust refused the cloak.
“Check the perimeters,” Ghent agreed, making a mental list of things that needed to be done. “I can do that. Thanks for this,” he lifted the cloak in reference, raising a brow when Drust mentioned fog coming in. Apparently, the fancy pocket watch did more than tell time.
Before Ghent got a chance to worry about intruders using the fog as coverage, Drust began to address his list of questions. He answered in order, beginning with the pair of Knights on the lid of the OmniChrono.
“Custom made just for you, huh? That’s pretty sweet.” Ghent commented, thinking back to an earlier conversation of Drust traveling with Hatter and the White Queen. The three of them had obviously been close. Drust wasn’t the easiest guy to read, but he seemed to soften a little whenever the past was brought up. Maybe the memories helped keep the Curse at bay.
While he listened, Ghent pulled the cloak about his shoulders. He tested the length of the fabric, halting as the next comment reached his ears.
Creation date. Unless that was a strange Wonderland term for 'birthday', Drust’s origin presented a big mystery. "Created? Like The Powerpuff Girls?" Ghent whispered to himself, stunned he hadn't stopped to wonder whether Drust was something other than human. His height, his eyes...the unnatural paleness of his skin tone. It should have been obvious just by looking at him, yet somehow the thought never presented itself in Ghent's mind.
Amazed by his own obliviousness, Ghent stilled his tongue while the inscription was translated. He considered the text as Hatter was mentioned, which was enough for the boy to remove the OmniChrono from his pocket to take a closer look. He had no knowledge of what enchanting an object entailed, but he hoped he could learn to do it too. He turned the OmniChrono over, taking a newfound interest in the date recorded. Unfortunately, the numbers were small and difficult to read despite the light coming from the fire.
“Still, I'll take good care of it.” Ghent lifted his head, looking to Drust as he spoke. "This isn't something that can be replaced, it's one of a kind. It has your creation date on it and everything." There. A hint. He hoped to reopen the topic so Drust would offer more information as to what that meant, but he wasn't sure if Drust was the type to be lured into a conversation.
Undeterred, Ghent slipped the item back into his pocket, studying the man – or, whatever Drust was – from his spot. It was amazing to think that a being as powerful as Drust could somehow be brought into creation. Who created him, and how? Were the rest of the Knights the same, or was Drust special? Ghent didn’t want to risk angering him, but he couldn't contain the flood of questions threatening to pour out of him. He couldn't wait.
"Speaking of creation dates..." Ghent edged closer to the Knight, hoping to hear anything he felt like sharing. “How old are you? What are you? Do you have any special abilities? Aside from being crazy tall, I mean.” While Ghent spoke, he cut a glance toward Elayra to make sure she hadn't awakened. It was easier to ask questions without her around. He didn't have to put up with her eye rolls and sighs if she deemed a question stupid.
Lowering his voice as a precaution, Ghent turned his attention back to Drust. “Do you know who, er, created you? If you don't remember, your memories could've been erased. I saw a movie like that before. Two movies, actually."
Ghent failed to refrain from yawning a second time. He sniffed in an attempt to clear his sinuses, but his nose was pretty well stuffed. This, of course, was all thanks to William Saxon.
Inwardly cursing his foe, he rubbed at his eye while Drust spoke about how time worked differently in the forests. Ghent responded with a contemplative ‘hm’ but didn’t offer more than that. He was too tired.
The task of keeping watch wasn’t divided equally as Ghent thought it would be. It sounded like Drust had taken it upon himself to stay awake for the majority of the night, whereas Ghent and Elayra only had to stay awake two hours each. This was both good and bad. Good because Ghent got to sleep more. Bad because he had a feeling Drust would be more irritable than usual if he wasn’t well rested.
Feeling the terms were more than fair, Ghent nodded to show he understood. He remained groggy until Drust presented something from his pocket. At first glance, it appeared to be a watch of some sort. The mere sight of the object was enough to wake Ghent up.
“Wow…” Ghent murmured, amazed by the amount of detail on the front. He leaned forward to get a better look, the images of the Knights catching his eye. If the depiction of the armor was accurate, he had a pretty good idea of how Drust looked in the years before The Curse.
"This is really cool," he admitted, his curiosity growing as the clock was revealed. At least, Ghent guessed it was supposed to be a clock. The inside was beautiful, unique, and unlike anything he'd ever seen. He wasn't sure what he was looking at.
"Uh..." Ghent hoped Drust wouldn't assume he knew how to read the thing. Thankfully, the Knight showed him how to gauge two hours in a way that was surprisingly simple. Making a mental note of the red line, Ghent resumed his original position and reached to accept the item.
"You guys have some pretty weird names for stuff," Ghent commented. He cupped the OmniChrono in both hands, careful not to drop it. It was somewhat unnerving to be entrusted with something he assumed was irreplaceable.
Carefully, Ghent turned the OmniChrono over to see if the back mirrored the front. There weren't any Knights, but he did notice Drust's name near the top, along with some numbers and additional text underneath. Before the boy could inquire about it, Drust went on to speak of intruders and the importance of waking him.
"I will. Wake you, I mean." Ghent promised hastily. He had no intention of keeping quiet. The entirety of the Betwixt would likely hear his screams if he saw something trespassing into the Safe Zone. Still, Drust made a good point. Ghent had a weapon now.
Slipping the OmniChrono into the front pocket of his hoodie, Ghent went to collect his staff from its resting place. The metal was cold against his sweaty palms, reminding him of how nervous he was. The mantra was far from encouraging. "With you two, I always expect the worst."
Switching the staff to his dominant hand, Ghent remembered Drust's cloak. He retrieved the bundle of fabric from the earth and offered it back to him.
“Hey...about the it a family heirloom or something?” Ghent didn't plan to ask about anything beyond his duties, but he couldn't help himself. There were too many questions swimming around in his head. "Is that supposed to be you on the front?" He tacked on another question as he usually did, talking faster than one could hope to reply. "And what's it say on the back?"
For the first time in years, Ghent revisited the dream from his childhood.
At first, everything was too dark to see what was happening. He felt himself being picked up and passed to someone else, their arms strong and secure. He heard a voice -- possibly two people, followed by footsteps.
Somewhere up ahead, Ghent saw a room illuminated by light. The closer they got to the light, the more he could see. It came as no surprise when he realized Drust was the one carrying him. Time did little to change the Knight, but his face was noticeably different without the Curse.
In Drust's opposite arm, Ghent managed to make out Elayra's petite form. She had to have been two at most, which meant Ghent was three. His scattered memories from fourteen years ago were back, but he retained his thoughts and memories from the present.
When Drust brought them into a room at the end of the foyer, Ghent suspected they were in the castle he had heard about. He wasn't sure, though. Everything was happening too fast, and his three-year-old self hadn't been too concerned about surveying his surroundings.
His point of view became fuzzy as the setting changed, the stone walls replaced by overgrown foliage and massive trees. The road ahead crisscrossed like a spider’s web, but Drust didn't take any of the paths. He seemed to know precisely where he was going without them.
On they went, covering ground at remarkable speed. Ghent looked across Drust's chest to make sure Elayra was with them, and she was...but something was different. In this version of the dream, she was armed with a knife. A knife! Ghent gawked. He began to stammer something to her, but every step from Drust jostled him so much, he couldn’t speak.
Things got even weirder when Ghent realized Margen was perched on Drust’s shoulder like a parrot. The tichari waved a tiny paw at him, and a dumbfounded Ghent waved back. He definitely didn’t remember that before.
The farther they went, the more their surroundings changed. Tendrils of smoke replaced the trees, and a tall iron fence blocked their path. A portal materialized where the gate should have been, colors of black and red swirling like an angry typhoon.
Ghent gasped at the sight. He heard Drust's ragged breaths as they come to an abrupt stop. Snaps and snarls of faceless monsters sounded behind them, their forms emerging from the shadows. Before Ghent got a good look at what had ambushed them, he was put on the ground along with Elayra.
“GO!” Someone yelled at them. The voice sounded like Drust, but Ghent didn't know for certain. He felt someone push him toward the portal, but he used the momentum to run toward Elayra instead. If he altered the events of the past, maybe he could fix the present.
“Elayra!” Ghent couldn't believe how young he sounded. He lunged for her hand, forgetting about the knife until it was too late. He shouted as the blade slid across his palm, but it didn’t hurt. Ignoring the blood trickling down his fingertips, he turned to push Elayra through the portal.
Instead, somebody pushed him.
Wake up, boy.
The force of the shove was enough for Ghent to fall, his body disappearing from Wonderland.

Ghent’s eyes snapped open. He rolled onto his back with a gasp, startled by the sight of Drust. “I’m awake!” To prove his point, he started to sit up and instantly regretted it. His body felt stiff and his head hurt, not to mention his allergies made life more miserable than usual.
He leaned forward with a groan, resting his arms and forehead against his knees. He remained in the slumped position for half a minute, his posture resembling a zombie with a hangover.
Eyes bleary and half-lidded, Ghent lifted his head to look at Drust. “Two-year-old's shouldn’t have knives," he informed the man, his voice thick from sleep. He grimaced as he stood, his body aching relentlessly. On Earth, he took many things for granted. Sleeping on a mattress was one of them.
“Keep the fire going, and make sure nothing gets in,” he mumbled through a yawn, counting each task on his fingers. Up until that moment, he thought school was the worst thing to wake up for. Guard duty was significantly worse. "Anything else?”
You don’t look so great yourself. Ghent studied the Curse-infected Knight through bloodshot eyes. He lifted his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug, his muscles protesting the simplest of movements. “Maybe I’m allergic to ghosts.” He thought the comment was clever until he remembered Drust didn’t have a sense of humor.
“I’m just tired.” Ghent amended. He anticipated a follow up question, or even an accusation, but it never came. Instead, Drust turned his attention to the magical bag between them.
Ghent breathed a secret sigh of relief. It wasn’t long before the Knight retrieved something, a bundle of fabric large enough to pass as a blanket. To Ghent’s surprise, the item was offered to him. He stared at the cloak as if it were a foreign object, his mind taking longer than necessary to process the gesture. It was strange to think that this was the same man who had tried to run him through with a katana.
Before Ghent could find the words to properly thank him, Drust went on to speak about keeping watch. The task had slipped Ghent’s mind completely.
“I guess I can take second watch,” he offered, glancing toward Elayra. He wasn’t sure how the King’s Curative worked, but he figured the longer her sleep went undisturbed, the better. He tucked the journal underneath his arm and reached to accept the cloak, his hand dipping slightly due to the fabrics weight.
“And, um…” Ghent couldn't help but feel the smallest bit ashamed. Aside from the hoodie on his back, he hadn't thought to bring anything warm. “Thanks, Drust.” He lingered in place, contemplating saying more. There was a lot he still wanted to ask the Knight, but the time wasn't right. After a few moments of deliberation, he turned to go.
Carrying Drust’s cloak and Hatter’s gifts, Ghent returned to his belongings. He set aside his staff, then opened the flap of his backpack and placed his father's journal inside for safekeeping. Hopefully, the pages contained answers to some of the questions that went unasked.
Using the softer half of his backpack as a pillow, Ghent moved to lie on his back. The canopy of trees towered above him, stray dust motes drifting where they pleased. It should have been peaceful, but he couldn't take comfort in the scenery. He had too much to think about.
Everything had happened so fast. It took one day -- one encounter -- and his entire world was flipped upside down. Elayra and Drust were real. Magic was real. Not to mention ghosts, and worlds beyond Wonderland. He wasn't human, and his role in the castle was apparently decided for him. His father was one of the Forsaken, and his mother...he didn't know. He didn't even know what had happened to Elayra's parents exactly.
If that wasn't enough to keep him awake, Ghent also had his life on Earth to worry about. By now his parents would have discovered his disappearance. What would they think? He didn't leave a note, or tell anyone other than Henry. Part of him wondered if that was because he had no intentions of actually going. After all, he hadn't gone into the portal willingly. He was pushed.
Thanks, Miles. Ghent rolled onto his side and pulled the cloak over his shoulder, his eyelids too heavy to keep open. The last thing he remembered before succumbing to sleep was the warmth of the fire, and the gentle rustling of trees.
Smaya's smile didn't go unnoticed. Ghent began to smile in return, but the cry in the distance cut his reaction short. He looked to her inquisitively, curious as to what a guardian's duties entailed. Rather than burden her with questions, he nodded to show he understood.
“Yeaaah, I should probably head back.” Ghent mustered another weak laugh, this time without an apology. Smaya didn’t seem bothered by him joking in serious situations, which made her even cooler in his book. He took a step back, preparing to take his leave.
“This means a lot.” Dipping his head to show his respect and appreciation, Ghent looked up just in time to witness Smaya vanish. He turned to get a better look at the smoke surrounding him, amazed by her theatrical exit.
"Later, Smaya." Ghent waited until the emerald faded into nothingness, his voice quieter than it had been. “And thank you.”
The Betwixt remained breathtaking, but no amount of beauty could mask the ugly truth. Ghent stared past the waterfall, unable to think past his conversation with the mysterious woman. The images in the pool were no longer there, but the suffering souls were forever burned into his mind.
Shuddering, Ghent resumed the same seated position he chose to arrive in. The Betwixt was no place for a meltdown, especially with his physical body left behind. Heart heavier than it had been, he closed his eyes and started to focus.
Nothing happened. For a gut-wrenching second, Ghent wondered if he didn’t have the energy to make the journey back. Drust had mentioned something about strength, which raised a few questions. Did fatigue play a role in traveling between realms? Ghent didn't know.
"Come on..." Ghent refocused, imagining his destination in greater detail. He pictured the clearing, and the way the trees seemed to frame the Safe Zone from every angle. He remembered the way Drust and Elayra were seated around the fire, with their weapons and supplies just within reach.
Seconds ticked into minutes. Ghent felt an odd sort of muscle spasm go through his body, something similar to a hyptic jerk before one falls asleep. Still, nothing happened. At least, nothing that resembled his previous travels between realms.
Ghent cracked open an eye, just as the Betwixt began to slip away. The scenery seemed to stretch and fade, the cool tones replaced by the greenery of the Safe Zone. The effect was nauseating, so much that Ghent scrunched his eyes shut. When he took his next breath, there was a heavy scent of smoke in the air.
Gasping, Ghent opened his eyes. He blinked dazedly, his fingers numb against the metal of his staff. In hindsight, leaving his body away from the fire hadn’t been the best of ideas, but at least his soul was intact.
With the paranoia of someone who'd lost their phone, Ghent searched the ground for his father's journal. To his relief, it was there, nearly camouflaged against the earth. Retrieving the precious item, he craned his neck to look toward Drust and Elayra. Both were as he remembered leaving them, with the exception of Elayra, who appeared to be asleep. Inwardly groaning, Ghent forced himself to his feet, taking the journal and staff with him.
Mindful of the slumbering princess, he stepped lightly, eyeing the pair cautiously before speaking.
“She agreed to help us.” Ghent stood a few paces away from Drust, keeping his voice down for Elayra's sake. He swallowed hard, still jittery from his experience in the Betwixt. “So, uh...if we're lucky, we should be able to make it to Gardendale by tomorrow."
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.
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