Recent Statuses

6 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.
10 mos 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
Merry Christmas!
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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

Seeking: Possibly one more. If you have an idea and like my writing style, maybe we can work something out.
Genres: Fantasy, Modern, Horror, Slice of Life, Sci-Fi.
*Fandoms: Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, Maze Runner, Marvel, My Hero Academia, Miraculous Ladybug.
Limits: For violence, I'm not picky. For romance, that would be limited. Nothing explicit.
Reply status as of 1/31: Going through some stuff so posts are unpredictable. :/
*Side note about fandoms: I'm not as into writing for fandoms as I used to be. I'd certainly be up for using fandoms for inspiration for an original story. With that said, you may be able to talk me into it.

Most Recent Posts

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.
Ghent's face scrunched up. No matter how hard he tried, he was unable to imagine Elayra as his or anybody else's queen. He didn't doubt her capability, but he couldn't grow used to the idea. She would always be 'Blondie' to him.
Still, the job deserved consideration. Ghent didn't know if he had a choice in the matter, but he liked to think he did. He tapped a finger against his bottom lip, contemplating the pros and cons of his supposed lot in life.
"If her orders aren't carried out, do I get to throw people in the stocks?" Ghent failed to hide the hint of hopefulness in his voice. "Bet they'd listen if I was carrying this," he added, taking another moment to admire the sharp prongs of his staff.
Elayra's movement caught his eye, her irritation evident with each jab she made toward the fire. Ghent wasn't sure what she was mad about exactly, but he had a feeling it was something to do with the future rather than the present.
Ignoring the girl for his own safety, Ghent returned his attention to Drust. He was impressed, but hardly surprised to learn that the man was once a personal guard. Ghent couldn't think of anyone better qualified. Drust was practically built for the job.
Every answer lead to questions, creating a never ending cycle. Ghent wanted to ask more about Alyce and the king in particular, but he abandoned the idea when Elayra raised her voice at them.
Ghent shut his mouth, taken aback by the outburst. He looked to Drust for his reaction, readying his staff in case things turned ugly again.
After a few tense moments that felt like hours, the tension died down. Ghent breathed a heavy sigh of relief, shooting Elayra a wide eyed 'are you trying to get us killed?' look. Before he got the chance to say anything else, Drust limited Ghent's range of questions to the present only.
"What'd I do?" Ghent was against the injustice of it all, but one look at Drust's expression changed his tune. "Okayyy," he drug out the word, disappointed to have the conversation cut short.
Trudging back to his backpack and pile of discarded candy, Ghent retrieved the journal from the ground. When Drust wasn't looking, he snagged a Hershey's bar and slipped it into the front pocket of his hoodie. It was a risk, but one worth taking.
Gripping the weapon in one hand and book in the other, Ghent straightened. He looked between Drust and Elayra, the silence threatening to become awkward. A spark in the fire snapped louder than the previous ones, urging him to say something.
"Well, I'm going now." Ghent announced, as if he was going on a lifelong journey rather than a few feet away. He hesitated, using his sneaker to get at an itch above his ankle. "To practice. With my staff." After another pause, he finally turned to leave, taking his questions with him.
Ghent gripped the staff a little tighter when faced with Drust’s threatening form. He didn't go out of his way to annoy Drust as he did with Elayra, but he seemed to provoke the Knight by simply existing.
Head tilted back, Ghent studied the pale features unobstructed by shadow, curious after he saw the change in Drust's expression. It was Ghent's turn to raise his eyebrows when he learned of training beginning at the tender age of seven.
“Sixteen years?” Ghent was suddenly aware of his aches and pains again. He couldn’t imagine devoting himself to anything for sixteen days, let alone years. For him, sixteen years was an entire lifetime. He pitied the sap who wanted to reach knighthood with Drust on the judging panel.
“I could become a surgeon faster than that,” Ghent grumbled, mentally scratching 'cool armor' from his Wonderland wish list. He contemplated using the argument that he wasn't human, but Drust happened to address the fact before he could.
Palace vinifcium? Ghent had no idea what the job entailed, or what that meant for his future on Earth. He found himself looking to Elayra for her reaction, wondering if this was news to her as well.
"So, what? I'm supposed to be Blondie's adviser or something?" Ghent suspected she wouldn't like the idea, and he wasn't sure if he liked it either. Drust knew more about his past than he did, and apparently his future too.
"Are you on the council?" Ghent tacked another question onto the first, unsure of how many duties the Knight had. As little as he knew about himself, he knew even less about Drust.
“Sweet…did he kill any shadowmires with it?” Ghent liked the idea of his father testing the weapon beforehand, it made him feel important. He allowed one end the staff to rest against the ground, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He felt like a real wizard.
Ghent soon discovered he was alone in his excitement. His grip loosened on the staff, mildly surprised by the edge in Elayra's voice. Was she actually jealous? He'd been joking earlier, but now he wasn't so sure. She seemed more irritable than usual, if that was possible.
"What’s wrong, Blondie?" Ghent started to twirl the staff with one hand like a baton, an attempt to show off in front of her. "You're not jealous, are you?" He lost his hold within seconds, and the weapon fell to the ground with a noisy thud.
Mumbling an apology to the staff, Ghent bent to pick it up. He didn't have time to be embarrassed; he was too stoked at thought of the weapon – his weapon -- developing new abilities.
Get to it. Ghent's enthusiasm vanished. The staff was no longer something to be celebrated, it was something to fear. How was he supposed to earn the trust of an inanimate object? He never thought he would have to practice on his own so early.
“Oh. Well, okay.” Ghent tightened his grip on the staff. Outwardly, he was playing it cool. Inwardly, he was screaming. He stepped away from the fire, aiming to distance himself a few paces. He didn’t want to risk hurting them if the staff got temperamental.
As Ghent passed Drust, he stopped, an idea striking him.
“Hey, much training does it take to become a knight?” Ghent looked over his shoulder, completely serious. If becoming a knight was a title possible of being earned, he could think of no teacher better qualified than Drust. “Do I get cool armor if I graduate?”
Said it before in Hangouts, but I gotta say it again: I absolutely love the staff, and nothing at all has to be changed. Everything about it is perfect. I adore the picture edit as well! You described it beautifully, but it's always fun to have concept art. (Will be nice as a reference for art, too).

Drust giving him Hatter's book made me smile. Ghent definitely needed that! Super, about making the focus words up! When I think of some, I'll run them by you first. And thank you so much! I liked how Drust told Ghent to come for him with questions.

Speaking of questions -- I didn't get around to it yet, but Ghent has plenty more to ask. Still planning on him accidentally finding out about what Drust is, and maybe he'll even ask about what Elayra's mistake was later on. He's too busy admiring his gifts right now. For once, I can't blame him. ;P

I'm still so invested and curious about their travels with Ellheim, Alden, and the rest of the Omitten! Ahh! We need a spin-off series. I went back to make sure Ghent knew who the Omitten were -- he did, and they were mentioned on page 4. Found it thanks to your handy dandy list of Wonderland terms. Thank you for being so organized. XD
Ghent cringed, the harshness in the response reminding him of his near-death experience. If Drust didn't make the bargain for the Curative, who did? He rested his head against his backpack, unsatisfied with the answer. Something wasn't adding up.
Elayra's question was met with another one-shouldered shrug. Ghent wasn't sorry for his behavior. He picked at his canine tooth, feeling a piece of leftover toatunt jerky jammed somewhere between his teeth. He didn't know how Elayra kept her sanity without joking around.
Here we go. Ghent almost rolled his eyes as Elayra began to list his latest offenses. He propped himself up on his elbow, ready to speak up, but Drust interrupted the girl before he could.
Ghent simmered down, anxious to hear more of the story. Ellheim's name wasn't familiar, but he remembered the Omitten. He glanced to Elayra as Alden was mentioned, his attention snapping back to Drust as he spoke of Alden trying the very thing Ghent had suggested.
Mortally wounded. Ghent's heart sank. He noticed Elayra adverting her gaze, her reaction leading him to believe the memory was painful. Ghent remained quiet, new questions presenting themselves in his mind.
"Pet?" Ghent echoed, the use of the word ripping him from his thoughts. He wanted Drust to correct Elayra, to deny the worst, but he didn't. Ellheim sacrificed his freedom for his son. It was so bizarre and horrible, it was Ghent's turn to look away.
When Drust spoke of Elayra learning from her mistakes, Ghent eyed her with curiosity. Elayra didn't seem capable of making mistakes -- at least not the kind of mistakes he was always making. He couldn't imagine what Drust meant by the statement, unless Elayta played a part in Alden's decision to bargain with the creature.
Ghent didn't have time to play detective for long. He sat up straighter at the mention of Hatter, fumbling to catch the book before it could hit the ground. He turned the book over for a title or name, finding neither.
Still, it was Hatter's. Or it had been. Ghent felt weirdly sentimental. He heard stories, but the man almost felt fictional until that moment. Holding something that once belonged to his father verified his existence.
He took a breath before lifting the cover, but he dropped it shut when Drust stood, wielding a weapon unlike anything he had ever seen.
“That’s for me?” Ghent’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the blade, its deadliness evident to him even from afar. He set the book aside, his gaze never leaving the weapon. He couldn’t decide whether to be delighted or horrified.
“Uh, right! Of course. I’ll be careful.” Ghent stammered over the words, hoping not to sound as eager as he felt. The possibility of his own weapon turning on him was scary, but the thought of being unarmed in Wonderland was scarier.
Aches and pains forgotten, Ghent stood. He reached out to accept the staff, a surge of adrenaline rushing through his body once the weapon was entrusted to him.
"Oh man..." Ghent breathed, his arms dipping slightly due to the sudden weight. He held the weapon so it was level with his chest, hands spaced half a foot apart. He gave a gentle tug in opposite directions, but the halves remained whole, as he expected they would. The staff didn't know him yet, and vise versa.
“Does it have a name?” Ghent angled the staff to get a better look at the gemstone, appreciating the weapon even more from up close. He was so busy admiring his gift, he completely missed the fact that Elayra was envious. "How soon can you teach me to use it? Did my dad ever fight with this?"
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