Riven Wight

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Izzy raised her brows at Trevor’s response, trying to figure out how her having brothers was connected to him having a wound on his face. She cast him a look when he inhaled, walking just a step behind him, letting him lead the way on their walk through town.
She frowned slightly at his revelation about his distance with his few family members.
She nodded slowly. “Because someone’s family by blood, doesn’t mean they’re really family. There’s more to it than that.” She glanced between him and the sidewalk ahead of them frequently. “Trevor…” she paused and bit her lip lightly, debating on if she should pose the possible link between subjects. “Did one of your parents hurt you?” she finished slowly, the thought of anyone harming him making her stomach flip angrily.

Northwood Academy

#MightBeDeadButNotEntirelySure

AWESOME SAUCE!

Also, hi, everyone, and merry almost-Christmas!

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Izzy looked at him oddly when he ignored her question.
“Yeah, I guess we do,” she answered when Trevor fell silent. “I want to strangle them sometimes, but I’d do almost anything for them, when everything’s said and done.”
She shook her head at Trevor’s question. “You haven’t. But you do give off that sort of vibe. So,” she looked to him, tired of waiting for him to answer the first inquiry she had given him that day. “What’s the story behind the new accessory? Or did you get bored and decide today was a good day to put some gauze on your face for the fun of it?” She gave him a playful smile, though concern shone through her eyes.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra hated being in the open. Though the wooden structure provided some cover, the spacious expanse of the park around her and Ghent was unnerving. Anything could easily spot them, and she knew little of what dangers this world had to offer.
Once Ghent took the cat, Elayra stepped back a safe distance, looking him over, her head cocking slightly toward every sound.
Ghent stood a couple inches taller than her, and looked fairly well-off, if not baggily dressed. Even in the dimness of the night, his skin looked pale, the color intensified by his dark hair, and his eyes, though dulled in the darkness, still held a tint of blue. Like the others of this world, he showed no signs of being tainted by the Curse.
When he denied ownership of the creature, she gave a slight, content nod, but stopped at his question.
Her brows furrowed. “What? You... don’t know?” She eyed him closer, then glanced to the pendant still gently glowing around her neck. She cast a quick glance around, wondering if there was someone else nearby it could be trying to indicate, but the park was deserted save for the three Wonderlanders and the cat. The boy had to be Hatter’s son.
He wouldn’t know, would he? she realized with a frustrated, disheartened sigh.
“Who are you?”
She eyed him for another short moment, before instinctively answering, “I’m nobody.” She raised her chin slightly. “But if it’s a name you want, I’m Elayra.”
Before she could say more, he spoke again. She opened her mouth to ask, “Who?” but he did not leave her the time.
Elayra watched him with curiosity as he wrapped the cat up in his strange jacket, turning it into a sort of net. When he mentioned a ‘reward,’ she put two-and-two together; there must be a bounty out on the cat. The question was, why? What had the miniature beast done? It had been easy to capture, so an incompetent spy, perhaps, that had seen too much? But, more importantly, who else would be out looking for it?
Elayra raised a hand to signal him to be quiet. “Take a breath. I know nothing about neither a ‘Mrs. Saxon,’ nor a reward. I’m not here to get involved in the affairs of this world. Whatever crime that beast,” she nodded toward the jacket, “has committed, and its value to you, is yours alone.”
She glanced over Ghent’s shoulder to where Drust still waited by the tree, his arms crossed and unwavering gaze on the two teenagers. She needed to know how much, if anything, Ghent knew or remembered.
“Tell me, Ghent,” she began carefully, slowly, her attention back on the boy. “Do you know anything of a place called Wonderland?”

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Izzy raised her chin slightly at Trevor’s reaction to her question, his hesitation to answer only wetting her concern. She eyed him for a moment at his request.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure.”
She walked alongside him as they went. She cast him and his bandage frequent glances, but listened and offered conversation nonetheless, waiting impatiently for him to decide when he wanted to divulge the cause of what laid behind the gauze. She mentioned the events of her morning, leaving out the jumbled mess of feelings revolving around him.
She looked sideways at him at the tone in his voice when he asked about her brothers. “Two menaces, rather.” She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “But, yep. I, uh,” she rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand, “used them to explain the martial arts books. At the bookstore.” She cleared her throat. “Why do you ask?”

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Nope! I am 150% sure it’s not a burden! So, that’s all good and settled, yeah? And I will be doing just that! Feel free add in your own ideas, of course!

Yay!

Awesome. Glad to have you on board! Do you want to do just one, then, or both?

Ha! That was fun to read. You definitely did a lot better with the paragraphs! Good job! To hopefully put it simply with paragraphs, it’s with a new topic, time, place, speaker (or otherwise long dialogue broken with actions, for the sake of readability and to prevent an unwieldy long paragraph), or for dramatic effect. A single word could be in its own paragraph, and still be considered a paragraph!

My thoughts, if you’d like them!

> Why does it not surprise me that the crazy cat lady/gossip drives a black Sadan?

> “... and William was William.” *Grins.*

> Again, your skill with personalities! <3 <3 <3

> I’m torn between thinking Mrs. Saxon deserved that, and that Ghent was a jerk. xD His reaction and how he played, her though! Fantastic!

> “... his meow sounded thick and warbled.” I like that description!

> Gosh, William. Why must you be such a cat?

> Wish I could answer my phone while running. I’d probably either fall on my face, or drop and break the phone. Or both. My money would be on both.

> ... I think I’m part Axel.

> Stolen by wolves. Give the kid a cookie for that theory!

> “Time had warped its appearance, but that didn't seem to bother William.” <-- Oooo. That. Such a good word, warped! Such a simple, yet powerful description overall that provides a strong imagery. Plus it sounds awesome. Odd question: can I add that line to my book of quotes? Attributing it to you, of course!

> Again, I’m torn between feeling sorry for Ghent’s misfortunes, and thinking he deserves them. I love how it’s one thing after the other. All for the gosh darn cat. Shows how much he wants/needs that money!

> I love that entire chase, including the open opportunity there! It was amusing and enjoyable to read.

Regarding the indentation issue (though I really don’t mind double returns, if that’s easier):
I use Word for most of my replies. The tab button works the same on the site as it does in Word. The most I can offer as to a reason it didn’t transfer is that the auto indent is set, which the site won’t register. Check the ruler at the top of your document, and make sure both the arrows up there are at the zero mark. The top one is the auto indent. If that’s pushed over, then it won’t register that you pressed “tab,” just that you started a new paragraph, and automatically indent it the desired space. If the top triangle pops back over once you hit “tab” in the body of the document, backspace so the curser is left-flushed and the triangle back at zero, tap that space bar, then press “tab.” That and all the following paragraphs should then let you manually enter the indentation. Keep an eye on it, though. I know it still pops over to the half-inch mark upon occasion for me. I use 2016, but that’s worked on previous versions I’ve used as well. Hope that helps!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra did her best to focus on the blurry memories that remained of Ghent Madrail. Light blue light surrounded her. A sensation between falling and floating made her stomach flip, her hair drifting lazily around her head as swirls of white spiraled about her. She reached out to touch one of the spirals, her long sleeve a shock of color in the pastel path between worlds, but it coiled away.
She gasped when whispers akin to those at the tree-wall began, and a pinprick of bright light slowly grew larger in front of her:

“A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
“It is not the truth that matters, but victory!”
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.”
“We are the change that we seek.”

The light burst from its small circle, and encompassed her in a blinding flash. She raised an arm to shield her eyes, only to shout as her body tumbled forward. She tried to catch herself, but she hit rough stone with a splash, her arms scraping against the concrete.
Swiftly, Elayra opened her eyes, jumped to her feet from the puddle she had landed in, and drew her sword and dagger, brandishing them in front of her as she took in her surroundings.
She stood in an alleyway, a couple of the windows on either side barred. Tall lamps evenly lining the left side illuminated the alley with an unfamiliar light and reflected off wet concrete and pockets of puddles. The fresh scent of a recent rain mingled with the foul, foreign smells of gasoline and exhaust. Seeing no immediate threats, Elayra lowered her weapons and quickly moved from where she stood, not wanting to be flattened by Drust when he came through.
She spun around to watch for her guardian, her tall boots sloshing in the puddle and the front of her dress soaked. A gentle glowing oval shimmered on the stones of a brick wall covered in graffiti.
Elayra waited. And waited.
“Come on, Drust,” Elayra breathed, watching the portal intensely. Please make it through, she added desperately, holding her breath.
Another moment passed, Elayra’s grip on her weapons tightening nervously.
The portal swirled, and, with another flash of brilliant light, Drust tumbled through. Unlike Elayra, he landed neatly on his feet and simultaneously drew his katana. His eyes frantically darted around the alleyway, even glancing toward the gray, cloudy sky.
Apparently satisfied they were safe, Drust slowly lowered his sword. His gaze fell to Elayra, and a wild grin spread over his face, the color of his eyes making the expression look sinister.
“It seems we’ve made it.” Drust placed the tip of his katana on the concrete and leaned on the white leather-wrapped hilt.
Elayra could not help but partially mimic the White Knight’s expression as their feat of world-jumping sunk in. She glanced behind him as the open portal closed into a thin, iridescent line just visible in the gloom.
Her triumphant smile faded. “We have no idea how big this place is. How are we going to find Ghent?” She looked back to Drust.
“Do you honestly think I’d drag us here without a plan?”
“But you do have a plan, then?”
“And to think I was worried you trusted me too much,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. The tip of his blade scraped unpleasantly against the concrete as he lifted it.
Elayra stumbled away and raised her saber as the tip of his katana came dangerously close to her.
“Your necklace.” He used the blade to point to the chain draped around her neck, its pendant hidden beneath her collar. “It’s more than a pointless heirloom. There is a magic even the Curse can’t impede; there’s a connection between that gem and the race that helped create it and the Seal.”
“The--”
“It’s not important right now!” Drust’s neck twitched.
Elayra glared at him, hating not knowing, but nodded.
“Think on the boy, and once we’re close, it,” he nodded jerkily toward the chain and twisted his sword in emphasis, “will let us know.”
She sheathed her weapons and pulled the pendant from beneath her shirt. She fingered the ruby-like heart-shaped stone and the bright blue rose at its center. Two metal swords crisscrossed through the heart, one with a gold blade and silver hilt, and the other its inverse. The chain connected at the pummels, one sporting a small sun and the other a crescent moon.
“Close your eyes,” Drust lowered his blade, “and focus on what you want it to do.”
Elayra glanced between him and his sword warily.
He smirked almost approvingly, then sheathed his katana with a flourish.
Satisfied she would hear in time to counter if he removed it in a lapse of reason, she took a deep breath, gripped the pendant tighter, and closed her eyes.
Ghent. I need to find Ghent Madrail. I need you to find him.
Her eyes snapped open when a gentle heat radiated from the pendant and seeped into her palm. She opened her hand, revealing the pendant. It glowed for a short moment, then the light faded, taking with it the warmth.
“We’re not close enough to him.” Drust reached up with both gloved hands and pulled the hood of his cape free from where his carefully placed pack trapped it against his back. He let it fall over his head, casting his alabaster face in shadow.
“Then what’re we waiting for?” Elayra strode toward the end of the alleyway, a hand resting on her sword’s handle.
She stood as close to one of the alley’s buildings as she could, Drust beside her. She glanced down the empty road, taking in the strange streets and sidewalks. It all looked so smooth, so even. Though in slight disrepair, compared to the crumbling structures and cracked, uneven walkways strewn through Wonderland, it was the picture of perfection.
Elayra glanced over her shoulder at Drust, then stepped out onto the sidewalk, her gaze as cautious as her movements. Not wanting to forget the placement of their way back home, she turned to get a look at the buildings around the alleyway.
A large window with books and a “Closed” sign on display took up one corner, another sign above the door reading, “Frank’s Book Barn.” On the other side of the alley, a light glowed from the storefront, a blinking purple sign telling any passerby to “Hava Java.”
Wondering what a “java” was, Elayra turned to head down the street.
A car roared by wetly. Elayra hissed, and she and Drust drew their weapons as the car passed, one of its taillights blinking a second before it recklessly turned down another street.
The two shared a glance.
Here, they would be fish on land, gasping for air and praying they could flop back into the water unscathed.
“Be prepared for anything,” Drust muttered with another exceptionally forceful spasm that made his neck crack.
“And always expect the worst,” Elayra finished for him, reluctantly sheathing her weapons.
Drust placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression steely, then took the lead down the sidewalk and into the depths of the unknown.

“This is impossible!” Elayra groaned. Defeated, hungry, and worn both mentally and physically from the trying day, she leaned one of the trees planted decoratively about the well-manicured lawn surrounding what looked like a large wooden training area. The sun had set, leaving only the electric lamps to light the world.
They had wandered aimlessly through the town for well over an hour. It was bizarre to her, seeing even just the handful of normal people out after a rain, none armed. None looking over their shoulders for fear something foul lurked nearby. Most of them had taken pause as the two passed, one man brave enough to ask if there was a convention in town.
She glanced up, hoping to at least see the familiar sight of stars, but the city lights had chased away all but the brightest and most daring.
“Doesn’t matter.” Drust’s head twitched crossly with his own fatigue and frustration.
Elayra snorted. “For all we know, he could’ve left town by now! We could be leagues away!”
Drust turned to her with a threatening glare. “It. Doesn’t. Matter.” He stepped closer to her with each word, the black lines in his eyes and on his face throbbing.
Forgetting the well-pruned tree behind her, her backpack pressed against it, making her scowl. She raised an arm across her chest to keep him at least a foot from her.
“We’ll search all night if we have to!” He pressed against her arm, his gaze boring into hers, teetering unnervingly close to a snapping point.
She snorted a laugh in disagreement. “I’d say you’re mad, but that pretty much goes without saying!” She realized her unthinking mistake the moment the baiting comment left her weary lips. Her face formed a wide-eyed expression that said, ‘Oh, crap.’ “Drust, I’m sorry! I didn’t--”
But it was too late.
The colors of the Curse consumed his pupils, and her apology cut off in a strangled choke as he gripped her throat faster than she could defend. With uncanny strength, he lifted her so her head was level with his, his fingers digging painfully into her neck.
Elayra desperately tried to inhale, one hand attempting to pry off his vice-like grip, silently rebuking herself for not holding her tongue with him in such an already distressed state.
“Disrespectful little brat, aren’t you?” Drust cocked his head, a gravely undertone in his now cruel voice.
Gritting her teeth, Elayra swiftly drew her dagger and swiped it at him, forcing him to release her and hop away. She fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath, but wasted no time in straightening and shedding her pack and bow with practiced speed, her stance defensive.
“We’re both tired, Drust,” she began cautiously, not daring to look from his vindictive snarl and hoping her tired body would hold up against his Curse-enforced strength. “It’s been a long day. We haven’t traveled that far that fast in, well, ever. We need to get rest. And some food.”
Drust's head twitched. “Disrespectful and demanding. Wonder what your mother would think.”
Elayra exhaled heavily, her mouth slightly agape, his comment taking its desired effect. “How dare you!” she hissed through her teeth. A burst of adrenaline running through her, she lunged for him.
He avoided her first attack, then gripped her arm firmly as she readied for a second.
She inhaled sharply through her nose as he twisted her arm, her body following the motion to keep it from snapping as he took her dagger from her.
He easily drew her back into him, tightly gripping her around the waist with one hand and draping the other across her chest so the sinuous blade of her dagger pressed between her neck and shoulder.
She held her breath, teeth clenched and gaze toward the sky as she waited to feel the familiar sting of the blade, but it didn’t come. She looked down as he dropped the dagger and instead fingered the pendant around her neck. The heart had begun to glow.
Drust hastily released her.
She spun to face him. His face was hard, but his eyes were as normal as they would get.
Movement near the structure caught both their attentions. They moved almost as one so a tree mostly hid them. Elayra leaned heavily against the trunk as they watched a dark-haired boy about her age chase a rather mangy-looking cat to the structure and try to climb the slide to get to it, his back to them.
“By the Queen!” Drust breathed, his head above hers. “He’s the spitting image of Hatter.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she offered tonelessly, absently rubbing the sore spots on her neck.
He placed a gentle, unsure hand on her shoulder. “Elayra...”
“I know.” She glanced up to him, his expression conflicted. “Me too.” Her eyebrows rose in a mix of mockery and pity when the boy slipped and landed in a mud puddle. “You’re sure that’s Hatter’s son?”
“The evidence points to it.”
“I’ll be back, then.” With that, Elayra sprinted toward the wooden structure as the boy shouted at the cat.
Without a word, she leapt over the boy and onto the slide. Taking no time to wonder at the feel of the slide’s material, she bounded up it in a few nimble strides. Though one of her shoes slipped on the wet plastic near the top, she gripped the wooden bar suspended over it, and grabbed the hissing cat by the scruff of his neck with her free hand before he could flee. She quickly looked him over, instinctively checking for any sign it belonged to the Red Queen, but even the cats here showed no such symptoms.
“I hate cats,” she grumbled with a scowl, then carefully slid back down the slide, still standing. She jumped from the slide, avoiding the mud puddle, then offered the struggling animal to the boy.
“Is this beast yours, Ghent Madrail?” she asked, taking a chance at calling him by name.

Mystery Inc: No Trace Left Behind { Angel & Siaya }

Sorry for the wait. Thanks for your patience!

Mystery Inc: No Trace Left Behind { Angel & Siaya }

Finally, Nate opened a door to a bedroom that undoubtedly belonged to Fred. It was like stepping into a time machine and coming out in a world mixed between the seventies and the modern day. A few lava lamps scattered the room. A large, round shag carpet sat at the center of the otherwise wooden flooring, depicting the Monster Inc. logo. A few pictures of family members Nate recognized, including a couple with him, hung on the walls, plenty of them singles with Fred. A large mirror took up one wall, holes in part of it where a mirrored closet door waited.
Nate shone his flashlight at the base of the mirror, careful to keep from blinding himself by flashing it directly on it. It always amazed him how tidy Fred was, and his skills at keeping mirrors smudge-free. Nate swore if he so much as glanced at one, it smudged it.
Nate went around a couple beanbags and “futuristic” chairs toward a desk in the corner. He rummaged through a few papers scattered on it, and stumbled on what looked like the work of a sequel to Fred on Fred: The Many Faces of Me shoved at the bottom of a drawer.
Nate rolled his eyes and shoved the drawer shut. He sighed, then turned to search through the closet.
Predictably, Fred’s closet was dominated by various shades of blue and white. Even a tuxedo he found near the front matched his usual color scheme.
“Would it kill you to get a little verity?” he muttered into the closet, the garments muffling his voice. Not that he had much of that himself in his own closet.
He heaved a sigh, then glanced over to the wall to the right where an array of orange ascots hung on hooks. Closing the closet, he stepped toward the wall. As his flashlight glinted over a part of the mirror, he stumbled to a partial stop, and stepped back.
Just visible in the way the light had reflected off the mirror, was a series of smudges.
“Hel-lo,” he said, bending slightly to get a better look at the smudges. He shone the light over it carefully, trying to reveal them in their entirety. Slowly, he made out a name written on the otherwise pristine mirror:
Jacobo.
“Ah, ha!” Nate exclaimed as he stood, slapping a triumphant hand to his knee. “I knew it was linked!”
His attention turned to the door when he heard Maggie call his name. He hurried to the door frame and leaned out, shining his flashlight down the hall until it fell on the woman.
“What’s up, Sassafras?” He glanced behind her, searching for any sign she had run into trouble.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Awesome sauce. And thank you, really! :-) I’m glad you appreciate and enjoy it. That’s the true pay-off of writing, there! :-D And I like your thoughts. So fun, and thank you! ^.^

Pfft, please, don’t feel guilty! I LOVE GMing and putting together plots that hopefully leave players wondering. Heck, I was feeling guilty for taking over the way I have. I’ve noticed I do that a lot when I get excited about something... So, it’s no burden in the least! Plotting, world-building, creating characters--it’s not just a hobby, but a passion for me. If you’re okay with me taking on the overall motion of things for this, I have enough ideas for it, in all honesty. xD Though, I should ask: do you like supernatural-style horror and the macabre to some extent?

Ah! Fan art! That would be flippin’ amazing!

I like the ideas! Ha, Zelda. Awesome. xD I was thinking the object itself could be an ancient relic of the Heart family crest (where they would have gotten the crest from in the first place), broken and separated, since it would have been a symbol of everything the Red Sorceress hates. I like the idea of something kind of like the Horcruxes... but something they would have to piece back together. Three parts, perhaps, the body of the heart and rose, and the two swords? Maybe with multiple uses once whole... A relic that had aided in binding the Red Queen long ago, thus taken apart once she found it and spread through the land, so the magic it held couldn’t be used against her. But taking it apart used a good deal of her own magic, and trapped it inside, the combination inadvertently increasing her powers so long as it remains apart, and making it impossible to fully destroy her. Maybe it could double as a key of sorts in the Heart Palace, where the Red Queen now dwells. And maybe Elayra’s necklace could have a connection to it, so they would know if they were near the pieces. OR! Ghent’s race could have its own connection to the relic’s magic, and those remaining after being hunted down having been a large part in locking the Sorceress away (by making the relic?), thus making him a living relic-detector, since his magic abilities were unaffected by the Curse.
This is what happens when I think... I should probably stop for now. What say you on all that?

Yeah! I enjoyed giving it, so thanks for being open to it! It’s neigh impossible to know where improvements must be made without someone else pointing them out, since the one making them is used to them. You know, I’ve always felt that I explain things so much better in writing, than I do vocally. Ask me to talk, and I’m a bumbling idiot. Give me a pen and paper, and I’ll make it sing. Which totally sounds modest... Anyway. You’ll definitely improve the more you try! You’re a pretty good writer as is. Paragraphs are difficult little things, to be sure. Like the comma… *Grumbles,* Stupid commas. Anyway, let me know if I can be of help at all!

This is gonna be good. *Grins.*