Riven Wight

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

Seaella chewed the apple slowly as Serapis answered her question, savoring the flavor. The child's brows furrowed, the young elf unfamiliar with the race of dracons. She had encountered many a dragon and dwarf, even the occasional lizardfolk and other such race, but never a dracon, let alone knew what their "style" consisted of.
She swallowed hard, trying to get the apple past the lump that had formed in her throat. She shook her head at his question, wishing Valera was there. She would know what to ask. She always did.
Seaella glanced to the door they had come through, and chewed on her bottom lip in worry, her fiery hair glinting in the light of the torches illuminating the room.

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

Nate’s brows rose at Maggie’s reiteration of the recent happenings. He looked back to the mirror for a moment, then tugged at one of the rolled up sleeves of his denim jacket, still debating whether or not he should fully trust her.
“Well, Sassafras, you’re not wrong.” He turned back toward the door. “Hope you’ve got your passport handy; we have a mystery to solve!” He tossed his flashlight in the air, letting it spin a couple times, then tried to grab it. The heavy metal casing landed wrong and bounced off part of his fingers. It spun once more as he frantically made to grab it, then landed with a heavy, clattering thud on the floor. The bottom of it popped off, and one of the batteries slid onto the floor despite the annoyed frown on his face, causing the light to snuff out.
Nate cleared his throat. “I meant to do that.”
He knelt down and quickly reassembled the flashlight in the dim illumination of Maggie’s light, sure he could have put it back together blindfolded.
“There’s a 24-hour diner not far from here.” Nate got to his feet and clicked his flashlight on. It hesitated at first, but the bulb managed to flicker to life with its familiar white light. “Decent wi-fi, and a good cup of joe, if I remember right. What do you say we get a cup and figure out our next move?”

To Cure a Curse

Rayadell returned his smile with a stiff nod. With one hand clutching her staff, when the elk bounded forward, she draped her free arm around Calanon’s waist to help keep her in place, the bulges of her wings twitching with the instinctive effort to help keep her balance. The creature was of a swifter foot than she had imagined possible, and with an endurance to match.
She inhaled through her nose when the wind pulled at the hood of her cloak and swept the hair from the marked side of her face. She bent her head and looked to the side, hoping that, should her new companion bother to glance back again, the shimmering lines would remain hidden to him.
She remained silent, not bothering to request a stop for food, her gaze watching trees and streams pass by at a speed that could pose as a great rival in a race between the elk and an elagon in flight.
By the time the sun had begun to sink behind the mountains, casting the skies in the reds and oranges of the eternal bloody battle between day and night, they had already neared the mouth of the mountain pass.
Rayadell finally looked up as the elk trotted to a stop within a valley at the base of their mountainous destination. The remains of rock slides littered the ground, some larger formations embedded into the ground and covered with layers of grime and vines. She quickly followed Calanon’s lead, hopping to the ground in what looked like the clearest grassy space in the immediate area.
A heavy chill hung in the air, a warning to any brave enough to venture onward to expect a colder climate. Even the air itself carried a fresher crispness here. The encroaching night made the trees cast growing shadows over the ground as the sun set quicker for the base of the mountain.
“Collect some stones to make a fire pit,” Rayadell instructed, adjusting the sides of her cloak as she turned on her heels to scan the spaced trees. “I’ll gather some wood. Something tells me we’re in for a cold night.”
Without leaving Calanon room for debate, she headed off toward the thicker part of the woods, keeping her eyes open for any fallen branches.

Deleted

Izzy sighed in frustration when the child again showed no response besides coming after the donut, leaving her to wonder whether he was choosing to ignore her, or was incapable of comprehending her words.
Raising the donut out of his reach, she watched him for a short moment with a contemplative expression as he stood on tiptoe in his desperation for the sugary confection.
Bribery isn’t training, she thought, the powder sugar coating the donut sticking to her fingers. Right?
“If you want another one,” she began, enunciating each word to avoid any misunderstanding, “then stop, look me in the eye, and ask for it.”
She held her breath, waiting, hoping for any kind of reaction hinting at even the smallest amount of remaining comprehension.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Sorry for vanishing on you! I ended up not feeling that great, then had a couple kids to watch.

So, I was thinking (dangerous, I know!). What if Ghent's race would allow him to have access to the more... "spiritual" side of things as well as a strong connection to magic? Like, creatures that may otherwise be difficult, at best, to attack in that plane of existence, would be free game to him? That could be something fun for him to find out, maybe by accident (and prove to be quite helpful in the long run).

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra blinked at Ghent as he looked away, realizing what he had thought. Her chin raised slightly, and she took her hand from his shoulder, letting it rest at her side.
She snorted at his apology. “I don’t need your pity," she snapped. "It is what it is. I tell you only to make my point.”
When silence fell thickly between them, she glanced down to her sword. She was quite a capable fighter, but even a band of the most skilled warriors were nothing against an army with access to magic. Without Ghent, even as untrained as he may be, the little hope that the Sorceress might be brought down would die with the rest of Wonderland.
Elayra’s grip on her sword tightened; even if she could no longer convince Ghent to help, she would still try, no matter what that might mean. Of that, there was no doubt. She moved to clean the shadowmire’s blood from its blade, her expression filled with determination and indignation.
“Alright…”
She stopped mid swipe.
“What?” she looked up at Ghent, a hint of suspicion flashing over her face at his sudden change of mind, wondering if he was playing some sort of cruel joke.
“And I was worried you had no sense of duty,” Drust intoned from a couple yards away, his face as unreadable as ever and eyes difficult to make out in the shadows crowding the alleyway. He held Elayra’s pack in one hand, and Ghent’s phone and her bow in the other. “With the shadowmire gone,” his voice darkened slightly with a scowl, and his head twitched, “we need to leave.”
“I doubt it’ll get to her in time to send anything else before tomorrow morning.” She frowned as her stomach growled softly. “We still need rest,” she added cautiously when his eyes narrowed. “And food.”
He paused, the silence unnerving.
“Fine.” The word came as clipped as the nod he gave. “We leave at first light.” Drust stepped forward and tossed her pack to her.
She caught it, trying to suppress a sigh of relief, but her entire body heaved with it. She slung the pack over her shoulders, then took her bow, which she used like a walking stick.
Drust turned to Ghent. “You know this city.” He offered Ghent the phone. “Where can we find shelter for the night?”
“Anywhere abandoned will do,” Elayra added, just in case.

They Live Among Us (Vampiricchild x Siaya)

“Oh,” Victoria responded softly, her eyes widening slightly when a ring appeared from seemingly nowhere on Alex’s finger. “That’s… good to know.” She looked to the front door, her gaze distant as she tried to recall if she had seen any such jewelry items on either Luc or Nyaira. Alas, she had been too busy worrying about getting out alive to be concerned with such an apparently trifle matter at the time.
With a shake of her head, she slowly cracked the door open, peering out into the hall beyond to check for any sign of unwanted company.
“Should we let Illyad know we’re leaving?” She looked back toward Alex.

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Thanks for all that. Man, you really incorporated the guardian concept! Kudos! I like that you tied what people called titans and gods into it. Kind of makes me think of the Thor movie where they have that conversation about humans thinking them gods, not just another race from a different planet, because of their superiority.

Were we still going to go with some of what I suggest when I first brought in the concept of the guardians that they were ultimately hunted down by other evil powers (maybe to try to harness their magic, or simply to eliminate them from the picture as a threat to evil-doers), so those of the “pure” guardians who remained got together to create a sort of insurance that their race would go on and return with the potential of their full power instead of the partial strength of their bound forms or descendants? All when they were needed most, hence Anora getting the powers close to when Pahn’s time bound to Earth is near an end, and the other plots going on. And potentially being capable of reaching the extreme abilities of the original guardians, since she would not have the same physical bindings (and contracts, as info would have it!), but the powers themselves. I know that would all technically be finer details, as opposed to the overall picture, but it’s always good to have those details established.

Sorry! I thought that was what you were asking. No, I don’t have any specific rules thought up when it comes to the larger picture of the original guardians. Originally (and I know this is just restating what was posed in PM, but figure it wouldn’t hurt for a reminder) I was thinking guardians were originally beings that were a pure form of magic (perhaps, in this case, that combined with Pahn’s magic before contracts were made?) that could take on a human form until they ended up getting bound to it since it was only in that form they could be killed, which then led to the descendants as well as their destruction. Which leads me to the “ultra-powerful” form: the guardians becoming a sentient embodiment of magic itself. In that form, they would be virtually untouchable, but capable of manipulating the magic and attacking their enemies directly. In that, they could take on whatever shape they desired, or even, in rare cases, be all but invisible to the untrained eye. Basically, the sky was the limit, maybe with each of them specializing in certain aspects and limitations unique to each guardian. Thus making them some pretty darn good, successful guardians. In Anora’s case, if we get to a point where she reaches that, she was still technically born human, so a limitation for her would be that it is a form she could spend only so long in without snapping back into her human form, and quite violently if she stays in it too long.

Any of that workable and sufficiently answer your questions? Just let me know if not! If you had something else in mind, we can keep bouncing things off each other. :-)

And yeah, of course! Character development is a part of the enjoyment of writing, be it in a personality or ability sense (even better when it’s both, right?). Well, if she’s getting visions of what they could once do, then she might get some ideas from it. ;-)

Sorry to hear work was hard on you again today! I know the feeling of everything coming out wrong. Heh. Until tomorrow (or, uh, later today?), then! Also, a happy New Year to you as well! *Raises a glass of Welch’s sparkling juice (because Welch’s is just awesome that way)* To old and new friends, beginnings and endings, and whatever good and bad 2017 may hold!

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra sighed heavily at Ghent’s apparent disdain at being called a component and lowered her sword. “We’re all components in a grander picture, Ghent. You, me, Drust… You’re just a new one being added to ours, and vice versa. What kind of results that’ll have isn’t predictable. Nothing from today has been.” She ran a stressed hand through her hair as she looked to the ground.
“I know we told you that you had that long. But…” She glanced behind her to the street where the last shadowmire had disappeared. As she turned her attention back to Ghent, the corpses began to dissolve into a black, red, and gray mist. It swirled upward in a glittering spiral, then dispersed like a firework before disappearing, leaving only a dark stain where the black cat had fallen.
“Those things are basically her spies. They heard us, Ghent. They know who you are, that you’re alive, and have a good enough idea about me. We killed most of them,” a grin pulled at the corner of her lips, before slipping away as she continued, “but one of them got away. It’d be unwise to wait that long now.”
“I’m no longer interested.”
“What?” she breathed, dumbfounded, as Ghent brushed past her. “Ask your…” She spun and stepped toward him to grip his arm, so easily forgetting he knew nothing about the events of Wonderland. “Ghent.” She took a deep breath, unsure how to tell him about Hatter. “When the Sorceress attacked Heart Castle, Hatter wouldn’t abandon the White Queen. They were both too loyal to the duty to do everything in their power to stop her.” She hesitated. Her expression hardened and her own hatred and bitterness for the Sorceress shone through her gray eyes. “That night, only three people escaped the siege. The lucky ones, like my mother, were killed. The rest, including your father, are suffering a far worse fate. Your ‘old man’ needs a hero just as much as our worlds do.”

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Drust snorted at Ghent’s comment, but said nothing before turning his attention to scanning the alleyway, his katana gripped in both hands.
Elayra smirked at Ghent’s question and took her dagger. “Your roads did more damage than those pathetic excuses for scouts.” She wiped the sinuous blade clean on the skirts of her dress before placing it back in its sheath.
She looked to Drust as the man turned in a slow circle, still on guard, and her expression fell. “How many?”
“Five, including these two,” Drust growled.
Elayra inhaled sharply and pushed from the wall, her blade held at the ready, if not lower than she would have liked. “Where’s the sixth?”
As if in answer to the question, a last shadow, smaller than the others they had seen, flitted into the light of the street. It pooled there for a short moment, swirling mockingly as Drust rushed toward it, then darted off and disappeared beyond the other side of the street faster than any of them could follow.
“No, no, no!” Elayra called after the shadow. She tried to follow Drust in pursuit, but her legs threatened to give out, making her knees bend as she reached to steady herself once more on the alleyway wall. They had had enough of running for one day.
At the curb, Drust snarled and swung his katana angrily at the air, the shadow now long gone.
“Drust!” Elayra looked up to him, the sound of his name making him turn his head toward her. “It’s gone. There’s nothing we can do.”
Drust snarled. He looked back to the opposite side of the street, his chest heaving with a deep breath. He spun around, and huffed forward, making Elayra raise her sword. “We need to go. Now.”
“I know," she said as softly as she could, positive she would be little match against him now if he snapped again. “But it’s been a long day. Whether you feel it or not, we need rest. Otherwise, we won’t be capable of holding our own if the Queen sends anything after us now.” She eyed him warily, the effects of the Curse pulsating with more potency than she had seen it in years. “Would you grab my pack?”
Drust glared at her.
“Please.” She glanced toward Ghent. “I’d like a moment with him without our lives being threatened.”
Drust’s head bent slightly and he gripped the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing. He gave a motion somewhere between a twitch and a nod, and hurried off toward the store room.
Elayra exhaled, glad that enough of his raging emotions had been worked off on the shadowmire for him to regain some control. She turned to face Ghent.
Should he speak, she raised her stained sword to try silencing him.
“First off,” she took a slow step toward him, her gaze and tone hard, “we don’t control the portal. Once it’s open, it’s open. With the gate in the state it’s in, anyone with enough willpower could get to them. Including her shadowmire.
“Secondly,” her chin raised slightly and countenance grew more severe, “if you value your life—or at least not being in pain—you do not want to antagonize Drust. He’s used to me, and I know how far he’ll go with me when the Curse flairs up. But you?” She snorted. “You’re a new component. A new stressor for the Curse in him to feed on. I have no way of knowing if he’d be capable of stopping himself before killing you. And trust me when I say an entire litter of shadowmire would be easier to take down on your own than him. Get them angry, and they lose their senses. But with Drust, it’s not uncommon for him to become more tactful. Your best hope is to try to remind him of who he is or talk down whatever triggered the Curse, and just fend him off, not strengthen the fire with insults and rushing in for the attack. Do you understand?”