Status

Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current Sometimes, when it's super quiet in a place with others around, I get the random urge to scream something to scare the crap out of everyone else around me.
3 likes
2 mos ago
Anyone else ever have to try really hard to not push loved ones away because you're in an inexplicable mood where you feel like you don't want friends, no matter how much you know you love 'em? :-/
14 likes
8 mos ago
Fencing kinda looks somewhere between beautifully artistic and like two caffeinated praying mantises fighting.
11 likes
1 yr ago
Dropped a jam jar on the floor, and it broke the floor. Smuckers must be taking notes from Nokia.
11 likes
1 yr ago
Adults are pretentious idiots driven by greed and lust, who can't see, let alone believe in, anything beyond their own nose. Who the heck would want to be an adult?
5 likes

Bio









Time Zone? Mountain Standard Time (GMT-6).
Country? United States.
Gender? Female.
Age? How rude. But if it matters to you, I'm over 18.

First thing's first: feel free to call me Siaya! I'm a nocturnal girl for various reasons, and have a deep love and appreciation of the night and dark. I love reading, writing, and most things fantasy and paranormal. I have enough collections to make a dragon jealous, and more hobbies than I can keep track of, including crafting.

For a fair warning, in my experience, I'm a child's humor with a teenage personality wrapped in a body occasionally required to masquerade as the adult it's supposed to be. It's a mouthful. I know. Possibly because of that, I tend to gravitate toward the Children's and YA sections in media and even in my own writing. Which, however, isn't to say I don't like anything geared toward "adults." I'm a sucker for tastefully dark stories, but we'll save that for the "Preferences" section below.

I've been an ardent servant to writing for well over a decade. But I'm far from the best, and am always looking for ways to improve. I highly encourage constructive criticism, both receiving and giving it, if requested!

On the roleplaying front, I've been involved in some form it for nearly as long as I've been writing, including play-by-post prior to joining the Guild. So, I have a decent feel for what I'm doing here, though there's always room to learn and improve!

If you want to chat and/or roleplay (again, preferences below), message me! Promise I won't bite. Too hard.


Because they always make for interesting conversation starters.
Some I've had since gradeschool, others are just budding.

~ Bladed weapons
~ Button pins
~ Vampire themed stuff
~ Books
~ Dragon figurines
~Costumes/Garb
~ Masks
~ Artwork
~ Media paraphernalia


Would take a lot to convince me to roleplay a fandom.
Another good icebreaker, through.
List in no particular order, eternally incomplete,
and subject to change.

~ Rise of the Guardians
~ The Flash
~ Arrow
~ Merlin (2008)
~ Warehouse 13
~ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir
~ Spirited Away
~ Howl's Moving Castle
~ Voltron (2016)
~ Trollhunters (Tales of Arcadia)
~ Jackie Chan Adventures
~ Avatar: The Last Airbender
~ Teen Titans (2003-'06)
~ Death Note
~ My Hero Academia
~ Disney
~ DreamWorks
~ Yona of the Dawn
~ The Promised Neverland
~ The Rising of the Shield Hero
~ Stranger Things

'Cause it'd be a crime to not have this as a section.
Especially considering the profile theme and all.
List is a WIP. 'Cause I'm lazy like that.

~ Kingdom Hearts
~ Final Fantasy
~ The World Ends with You
~ Persona 5
~ Spyro
~ The Legend of Dragoon
~ Bendy and the Ink Machine












1x1: Depends. How patient are you with waiting for posts right now?
Group: Not my cup of tea. So no thanks.
PMs: I don't roleplay this way, but am always up for chatting!



~ Could always do with participating in a good, dark vampire story.


As of 08/19/19:
Honestly, I just don't know anymore. Moving crap keeps getting delayed, and inspiration likes to vanish.
Expect me to randomly disappear every now and again, possibly for extended periods of time.



(Sorry, I know it's long. What can I say? I know what I like--and don't like.)

~ Character Gender: No preference. I'll gladly play a male or female main character(s). No doubling necessary.

~ Multiple Main and/or Side Characters? Yes to both! Though, I can be equally as content with playing a single MC.

~ Character Age: Under and over 18. My MCs tend to be (or appear) between 15 and 19 since I feel like my own mentality best matches that age range, but I can and do play characters 20+, especially with side characters. Even if 20+ in an MC is rare (but not off the table!) for me.

~ Usual/Favored Genres: Fantasy, paranormal/supernatural, horror, Gothic, fairy tale, superhero. With a Side Of: Adventure, suspense, mystery, action, drama, magic. But Not: Solely slice-of-life, purely romance-driven, erotica.

~ I Like: Naturally occurring romance, light themes, darker themes, torturing characters (physically and mentally), extensive character profiles, original stories, detailed posts…

~ I Hate: IC txt tlk (unless the characters are texting), godmoding without permission, playing canon characters, following pre-made media story lines, invincible characters…

~ Swearing: You won't find any swear words in my writing. I don't like swearing, and ask that a partner respects that wholly in OOC/PM. However, I recognize that's not the way of the entire world, and feel like I'd be a hypocrite considering the books/shows/movies I consume to ask a partner to maintain the same standard in their writing. So instead, I'd be good as long as it's kept semi-infrequent and at a PG-13 level (and no F-bombs. Sorry-not-sorry).

~ Sex, Smut, or Whatever Else You Wanna Call It: Not gonna happen. So don't ask. While I've written for and don't mind flirtatious characters (to an extent), I don't write anything more intimate than kissing. Which means I won't even lead up to a "fade to black" scene.

~ But, Romance? Romance can be a nice, enjoyable addition to a story! Love interests make for an interesting depth. However, romance isn't necessary for me, and is one of those things where if it forms between characters, great. But if not, then also great. It's all about the story and how our characters interact for me. When I do have romance in a story, I want it to form naturally between characters because they actually connect that way, not because it has to for the story.

~ General Nudity: Nope. Don't do full-fledged nudity. My line's drawn at non-sex related undergarments (and only if absolutely necessary for the story) and bare backsides.

~ Gore and Violence: BRING IT ON! My tolerance for gore and violence is a pretty high in written form. I enjoy physically torturing characters more than what's probably healthy, and like reading about/writing for/RPing with cruel characters. So, needless to say, I have no issues with--and even encourage--characters getting hurt, blood, angst, and violence. But too much of it becomes distasteful. I like my bloodshed to be realistic and/or story-enhancing, not violence and blood just for the sake of it being there. Can't stand gore without any rhyme or reason, or in unrealistic excess. A "story" with more violence and gore than plot isn't a story.

~ Eras of Interest: Medieval, renaissance, Victorian, modern, mixed, made-up.

~ Gender Pairings: Depends on what you're hoping for in the roleplay. Romance Potential: MxF only. Just Friends: Any pairing.

~ Writing "Level": Advanced, with the occasional casual/high-casual.

~ Usual Post Length: Depends on the situation and inspiration. Usually no fewer than 150 words, to 1,000+. You can always expect long loner and plot posts from me. And I do mean long. In general, the more you give me to work with, the more I'll give back.

~ Requested Partner Post Length: Depends on the situation. I don't expect every post to be lengthy, or for a partner to match my length every post. Sometimes, situations don't leave much room before you have to wait for your partner. That said, NO ONE LINERS. If I get one-liners or a bunch of otherwise painfully short posts that don't give me much to work with, add to the situation, or move the story forward in even a small way, I'm going to be dropping the roleplay.

~ Grammar and Spelling: I won't yell at you for occasional mistakes (I make plenty), but if I feel like I'm having to decipher my partner's every post like an ancient tome written in a runic language, again, it's likely going to get dropped.

~ Preferred Roleplay Medium: Exclusively forum threads. NO EXCEPTIONS. Though, my partners will get an alternate contact method, just in case, and I backup all my roleplays.

~ Posting Speed: Usually fairly slow, even when I'm online to reply. Some days I can do one or more, others one a week. But with that said...

~ General Posting Availability: Unpredictable. See the top of this section for current availability updates. I do my best to keep it fairly up to date, but regrettably fall behind in updating it. The only thing commonly consistent is that I'm more likely to post after ten-ish in the evening, MST.

~ Other: Admittedly, I suck at giving notices of disappearances, but I'll do my best to give them for possible extended absences. I won't get mad if a partner drops a roleplay, only if they abandon it without saying something. Lastly for now, don't feel shy to give me pointers with my writing! I LOVE feedback and discovering areas I need to work at.


Dang, you're still here after all that? You deserve a cookie. Heck, have a plate of cookies. That was pretty darn long. *Hands you a plate of cookies.*
Thanks for sticking around! Hope to year from you!


Most Recent Posts

Elayra pulled back when Ghent stirred. Remaining crouched, she rested her hands on her knees. He wasn’t the quickest waker, but at least it didn’t take more than one attempt to get him up.
She rolled her eyes as his stomach contradicted Ghent’s statement. “Riiight.”
She stood as he did. Her cloak shifted as she crossed her arms over her chest. She sighed heavily, noticing his stiff movements. If that didn’t work itself out, he’d slow them down. And the last thing she wanted was to have to spend more time in Hollow Forest than necessary.
She glanced to the lightening forest. A couple shapes swirled in the fog, wandering almost in a confused state before vanishing.
She turned her attention back to Ghent with a snort at his comment about the jerky. “Get used to it. There’s nothing to hunt here, anyway.” She frowned as the memory of her last kill, the deerdrin, came longingly to mind. Though she didn't mind the toatunt jerky, she'd take deerdrin instead any day. “Living animals don't come here. Even the Cursed ones are too smart for that.”
She shrugged at his question. “Felt like I was in a coma. But it worked.” She rubbed the back of her head lightly, the bump that had formed there already gone. “And it’s Elayra, Featherhead,” she added, smirking to attempt hiding her annoyance at the nickname.
She glanced to Drust as he pulled a worn hooded cowl from his bag. He let it drop beside the bundle of jerky, a piece of the cured meat in his mouth.
She reached into her pouch again and removed the OmniChrono. “Drust.”
As soon as he focused on her, Elayra tossed the Chrono to him.
He caught it easily in one hand and grabbed the bundle of jerky in the other. Without missing a beat, he tossed the bundle to her. He jerked his head to Ghent as he placed the Chrono in one of the belt pouches already in their place at his waist.
“What’s it gonna be?” She held the long bundle out to Ghent. “Breakfast, or starve until you have the time to hunt and skin something else?”
Drust tore off the end of his jerky with his teeth. “There won’t be time,” he growled. “Keep out a couple pieces. Put the rest in your pack.” He slipped the cowl on over his head, keeping the hood down. It matched the rest of his brown and black clothing, its once vivid coloring faded with use and age. “We’ve delayed enough as it is.”
The protesting screech of the steering wheel drew Anora’s attention back to Ahllasta. Anora inhaled at the sight of the woman. Apparently, she’d hit one heck of a nerve.
Oh, crap! Violate eyes wide, she held her breath and pressed herself as close to the passenger door as she could. Misty particles fizzled into existence around her, in part from a conscious desire for a ready defense, and in part of their own accord. She glanced worriedly out the windshield. If Ahllasta went off the deep end this far up…
Dan’s voice interrupted her worrying. She glanced to him incredulously
She’d felt only a shadow of Ahllasta’s power. Watched her ruthlessly kill Darsby in the blink of an eye. Seen her turn brutally on her earlier companion on a whim. Yet Dan, who looked like even Anora had a chance at beating him in a weight-lifting contest, was more than enough to keep the beastly female in check, even now. And his countenance had shifted, as if the prospect of a fight was more in his comfort zone than making conversation.
It made for an unnerving reminder that she knew practically nothing about who she traveled with. What kind of strength they each held. To top it off, she still wasn’t sure if she should actually call them the good guys or not.
‘You… wait!” Panic settled in her when Ahllasta reached for the window. She wasn’t an expert, but she knew what happened if you opened a door in plane.
She cringed, expecting the worst when the window rolled down. But instead of a devastating catastrophe, only a fresh, salty breeze filled the car. She gawked at Ahllasta as she crawled out the window easier than Anora would have thought possible.
“Well… That just happened.” She glanced up at the ceiling as the sounds of Ahllasta’s movements settled. Who needs physics when you’re in a flying car?
She looked to Darsby, eager hope lighting her eyes as it seemed she was finally going to get some sort of full answer about Dan.
When the other man interrupted, it took most of her willpower to not yell at him in frustration. She faced forward as the two spoke in the backseat. She glanced at the broken auto pilot button. Neither of the men seemed to be worried about it, but then, she had the feeling they could be on fire while bombs went off around them and still just shrug it off.
She blinked and turned her head when Dan answered her last question. If you could even call it answering.
She groaned and ran a hand down her face. His vague, roundabout responses threatened to give her a headache. Getting information from him was worse than asking her siblings how school went.
If she was going to get any straight-forward answers, she had the feeling Ahllasta was her best bet. She seemed more… rebellious than the men. Which could prove useful. If she could manage to get the woman alone to talk to her without getting herself twisted into a pretzel in the process.
She turned again in her seat to meet Dan’s gaze.
“I’m getting tired of you beating around the bush with all your half answers,” she snapped, gesturing about in emphasis as she spoke. “If you’re doing that because I’m new here, I’m not some terrified child who needs things sugar-coated. So out with it!” She slapped her hand down on the side of the driver’s seat, using it to help turn her better to eye Dan. “What am I—what are we,” she corrected, her voice and gaze firm, “going up against? Besides some god-like… whatever.”
Drust bristled slightly. Though he could barely begin to fathom exactly what ran through Ghent’s mind, the plethora of unending questions still radiating from the boy were neigh palpable.
Drust grunted in response when Ghent resigned himself to postponing further questioning. He checked that his katana rested in quick reach, then, with the gentle rustle of grass and clothes, readjusted and laid down.
He stared at the flames for a long moment, hesitant to let down his guard with such fresh blood keeping watch. His head twitched slightly, the Curse latching on to the distrust.
Drust grit his teeth. He had to believe Ghent would do well enough. Sometimes, fear had its advantages; the boy was jumpy and tense, making him that much more attentive and ready to wake his companions.
With a heavy sigh, Drust forced himself to close his eyes. He fell quickly into his usual light sleep, a part of him ever ready to jump to alertness at the slightest provocation.


Hollow Forest—A Safe Zone
Around 6:00 AM


Elayra didn't need the OmniChrono to know when the sun began to rise on Hollow Forest. The muffled sounds of the ghosts beyond the Safe Zone stilled. An eerie, still silence settled back over the woods.
As Drust—and the Chrono—had predicted, fog had rolled in during her watch. It hung thickly in the slowly lightening woods, yet it didn't dare fully enter the Safe Zone. Tendrils of silvery-white mist licked at the grass around the clearing. They stretched out only to recoil, slinking back like an impatient child’s hand after a whacking from a cook’s spoon. It brought with it a pleasantly sweet, yet damp smell somewhere between rain and autumn decay. It fought with the lingering scent of the campfire.
Elayra stood near the fire, watching the dying embers fight for life. The remaining light glinted on the blue blade of the saber held leisurely at her side. A worn leather tie kept her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the platinum strands recently freed of larger debris and tangles.
She had woken up feeling more refreshed than she had in ages. Better, even, than she had a right to feel after all the physical and mental labor of the last couple days.
She scratched absently at the part of the scab spiking beneath her left eye—or, rather, the slight indentation the King’s Curative had turned it into. The fresh, pink skin stood out even amidst the thin layer of grime that had begun to make its home on her.
She transferred her sword to her left hand, then retrieved the OmniChrono from the pouch at her belt. Paying its appearance no mind, she popped it open and checked the time. As she watched, the bottommost silvery hand met the line marking the end of her watch. With a sigh, she snapped it closed. She replaced it in her pouch, then returned her sword to her dominant hand.
She glanced out to the trees, giving the immediate forest one last visual sweep. Only the fog moved between the faint ghosts of trees. It swirled about, bound by its own, unusual laws. It created the occasional clear path, allowing a bit of warm morning light through, before flooding down in tumbling waves to refill it.
With a shiver from the air’s chill, she sheathed her sword as quietly as she could. She grabbed her cloak from where she had left it near the fire, then stepped to wake Drust.
The Knight shifted as she stopped near him.
“I’m awake, girl,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.
Of course you are, she thought with a quiet sigh.
He sat up as she opened her mouth to ask if he had even slept, but he interrupted her.
“The curative did its job?” he asked in his usual monotone, kneeling and reaching for his pack-turned-pillow.
“And then some.” Elayra draped the cloak over her shoulders. The fabric retained some of the heat of the fire. She drew the tattered, dirt-stained garment closed, relishing the extra warmth for as long as it lasted.
Drust gave a stiff nod and reached inside his pack. “Wake him.” He jerked his head toward Ghent. “We’re wasting daylight.”
She nodded, then approached Ghent. He slept soundly, looking more like a log than a person wrapped beneath Drust’s cloak.
Unsure how he’d react to being woken, she crouched down so Ghent laid just within her reach. She stretched out her arm, but paused. The temptation to ‘test’ how quickly he’d wake up in the event of an emergency settled over her.
A sly grin spread over her face. She inhaled and leaned forward, ready to whisper an alarmed wake-up call. But at the last moment, Drust's movements across the dying embers caught her eye.
She glanced to him as the Knight pulled his cloth-wrapped bundle of toatunt jerky from his pack. She squinted slightly as she did her best to gauge his mood in the dim gray lighting. He looked no more dour than normal, the dark lines spreading from the corners of his eyes little more than short, thin veins.
Even so, with a remorseful sigh, she decided it best not to stir the waters this early. Especially with the length of Hollow Forest stretching before them.
There's always tomorrow, she thought, frowning, trying to banish the regret.
“Breakfast time, Featherhead!” she said, shaking his shoulder and hoping the promise of food would be enough to break through his sleep.
Sounds interesting! :-D It'll be fun when she finds all that out. Heh.

Glad I didn't just imagine that you sing, then! Heh. Ooh, rapping. Neat! Do you write your own lyrics, or mostly do covers?

No worries. I basically just did the same thing, vanishing. That's great you've gotten your official retirement date! I bet your family and friends can't wait to see you. Have any big plans? Or, I suppose, it'd be better by now to ask if you DID anything? You know, I sometimes forget that desktops are still a thing. Haven't had a desktop in the household in probably somewhere around ten years... Dang, that's weird to think about. Kinda crazy: I've had my current laptop since around 2013, maybe '14.

*Laughs hysterically, then bangs head against the wall in answer to your question.* Been filled with canceled move after canceled move. After the last buyers fell through roughly a week before closing, our current buyers have wound up moving the closing date back so many times because of buyers for their place falling through. Not long ago, we didn't find out until the DAY BEFORE CLOSING that their deal fell through and our closing had to be adjusted. We had already loaded a freakin' moving van and had a rental lined up. Now things are just a huge mess, and closing is just a hopeful guesstimate right now. Then our water went out again for a couple days not long after. Got it fixed quickly, but still.
The last thing the Knight had expected from Ghent was an apology. It gave Drust pause in his explanations, his gaze resting momentarily on the boy. He exhaled heavily and nodded. “You’re inexperienced,” he began, his tone a stiff drone as he struggled to keep the guilt of why that was from rising to more than a whisper in the back of his mind. “Accidents are to be expected. But use caution.
Drust looked over when Ghent nearly fell, the movement catching his eye. His brows rose as he took in the boy’s wonder. Drust’s mouth twitched downward in a frown. There was far too much the boy didn’t know.
He sighed heavily at Ghent’s final comments and last questions. He took a deep breath, turned back to the fire, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should’ve woken Ghent up earlier.
“I’m far from perfect, boy,” he snapped, harsher than he’d intended. “Hatter created a decent amount of us. But no, not all of us of the non-human guard. His master created many of us before him. The palace has only ever had one official vinifcium at a time.”
He took another breath and glanced toward Ghent. “Creating White and Black Knights takes a tremendous amount of energy. And a sound connection with magic itself. I know little about its process. But Hatter always said magic does most of the work. Nonetheless, his first attempt left him drained and unconscious for a week.” A small smirk quirked his lips. “He theorized he’d put too much of himself into the process with me. As a result, that leaked into the final product. Making me a bit different.”
He curled the hand resting on his knee into a fist, then opened it. He stared at it as if waiting for something unusual to demonstrate his difference, but nothing happened.
He sighed heavily and let his hand dangle from his knee. “I don’t need much sleep. But I still need it.” He reached over and readjusted his pack. “If you have no further questions regarding taking a watch, we’ll continue our conversation upon the morrow.”
No clue, but thanks!

> No, I don’t think Drust’s age has been mentioned in IC. Can’t recall that ever coming up, or having the opportunity to come up in conversation for them. Just how old Ghent would perceive him as, I think, appearance-wise. If I’m wrong, sorry!

> Hey, it’s pertinent. :-D Yep, it has a hood! It’s a deep hood, intended to hide Drust's face if necessary.

Ha! I'm beginning to wonder if anyone with a menacing and/or crazed look and dark hair makes you think of teen Drust. xD <3

Oh, hey! You mentioned that here. Heh. Promise I didn’t even know you edited this section until I went to respond.

Woo! Yep, he asked the ‘right questions’ for the tidbit of info I’d been dying to share. That I’d bet you’ve guessed already. ;-) But poor Ghent and his obliviousness. xD At least he doesn’t immediately trust them! He’s got the sense for that. Heh. As always, the little things you add are wonderful, and I'll forever love his personality! And he went to The Powerpuff Girls. How’s ‘Powerpuff’ not stranger than OmniChrono, Ghent?

So! I’ve gotten the first chapter thing up for the first side-story under “Story Time!” It’s at the very bottom of the info post. Two notes on it: First, something stated in it is different from what’s been stated in IC. Know it’s an intended contradiction in the moment, and there’s a reason for that, which will get stated later. What’s in IC is how it was planned. Then, since you’ll find Ghent’s name used freely in more than just what’s there so far, I wanted to get that explained to you since Drust’s told him to think about an assumed name. Plus, that info would also be found in Hatter’s journal somewhere with other notes about vinifcium, so it’s likely Ghent would read that at some point if he reads the journal. Only in a more condensed form. Will add a sub-section for that under “A Guide to Magic.”

[Dang it! Oops Post. Now I'm gonna be all thrown off. *Cries.*]
Drust returned Ghent's promise to take care of the OmniChrono with a grateful grunt and slight nod. But he didn't rise to the unspoken inquiry in the boy's tone. He stared at the fire, momentarily lost in thoughts of the past. Sensing Ghent's gaze on him, he glanced to the boy. He paused, taking in the way Ghent looked him over. The Knight tensed, his expression darkening as he realized the reason behind the closer inspection.
Ghent had just realized the Knight wasn’t human.
Drust's neck twitched and his lips pulled down in a half-snarl as he looked back to the fire. Ghent’s imperceptiveness knew no bounds. If that didn’t change, it could mark the boy’s—or even his companions’—downfall.
“I remember, boy!” he snapped, his voice harsher and louder than he had intended.
Elayra shifted again, muttering in her sleep.
Drust grit his teeth and looked back to the fire. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, struggling to keep the pulse of the Curse from raging through him.
“Our memories begin the moment we’re created.” Though a hard edge clung to his voice, he lowered his volume and forced his thoughts from Ghent’s obliviousness. Focused on the answers Ghent sought. “I am a White Knight. Black and White Knights of the palace were never given any other racial name. We were created with the sole purpose of being warriors. Loyal protectors of the White Rule.”
Opening his eyes, he looked to his hand, the flames tinting it with their golden-red light. He clenched and unclenched it as he continued, the severeness in his voice slowly easing. “As for ‘special abilities…’”
He paused. It had been years since he last had to explain what he was. It felt almost odd doing so now to someone who knew so little. Even Elayra had had an idea of what he was, what he could do, by the time she worked up the courage to ask more.
“We're designed to be near-perfect warriors. I’m far stronger and faster than any human. I need less sleep and sustenance to function and survive. My stamina and senses are heightened. I can withstand more extreme temperatures longer. I heal quickly from any non-magic wounds, and age much slower than humans. The Knights’ skills in combat are unparalleled. Only vinifcium have ever grown to nearly rival us in physical battle.” His lips twitched upward from unspoken memories. The expression quickly turned bitter. “But we’re weak against magic. Without any countermeasures, a simple attack spell can deal massive damage. As we were created by it, so, too, can it kill us. Typically, we even lack the ability to command it. We’d pose too much of a danger to ourselves. I was a rare exception, capable of accessing it.”
He took a moment to take another breath, trying to not let the the reason why everything had changed creep heavily into his mind.
“We can only be created in the Chamber of the Heartstone in Heart Palace. And only by a vinifcium.” He glanced toward Ghent as he continued, “I am the result of your father’s first attempt at creating a Knight. That was nearly thirty-five years ago.” A grim smile pulled at his mouth. “But Knights aren’t created as infants. We’re created old enough and with the basic knowledge and abilities to be the warriors we’re designed to be. I was told I looked somewhere around seventeen.”
Anora sighed and frowned when Dan began his newest round of answers again with ‘being misunderstood.’
Not my fault you’re more confusing than one of Maddy’s boy rants, she thought, still fidgeting with the Earth pendant.
She concentrated on the rest of his answer, doing her best to put it all together. Her brows rose as he shone more light on Pahn’s strength.
“So, from the sound of it, he’s some god-level being who vanished to either possibly make a weapon of mass destruction, or sip martinis on a remote beach in Japan?” She smirked at the thought of some mighty being sunbathing on a beach. Hey. Everyone needs a vacation now and again.
She had scarcely finished her question when Darsby spoke up. Anora blinked at him. She had momentarily forgotten the pink-haired man was still there.
“Seers Guild?” she muttered to herself. She cast Dan a sideways glance at how Darsby addressed him. Not knowing who Dan was, what he could do or had done to be addressed as ‘celestial reverence,’ threatened to drive her nuts.
Her eyes narrowed as she listened to their exchange, most of it going over her head. But from what little she could tell between the men’s exchange and Ahllasta’s reactions, there was something she was missing. Something big.
She tried to stifle a humorless laugh at Dan’s plea to ‘not worry about it,’ but failed, the sound escaping in a snorted rush through her nose. She glanced between Ahllasta and Darsby at Dan’s pause, wondering if either of them would bother to question his painfully vague reply. But neither of them did.
Silence fell for a moment before she realized Dan was looking expectantly back at her.
“That’s it?” she asked, taking charge where the other two in the car wouldn’t. “Just, ‘I’m your babysitter, so I’ll deal with it?’ C’mon.” She glanced between the other two. “I didn't understand half of that, but it can’t seriously pacify you.”
She sighed heavily. These two seemed like blind followers, happy to accept any orders given them. Well, perhaps not happy in Ahllasta’s case, but she still followed them. And she didn’t like the sudden tension that radiated from them.
She turned her attention back to Dan. “I don’t know how you guys work, but if I’m going to be apart of this team here, Monster Mash, I want to know what I’m facing. We’ve already got a guy who sounds like he could turn me to dust like that,” she snapped her fingers. Though she said it with a fair lightness, the weight of the concept hung heavily on her even once the words faded from the air. If things went wrong, there was the good chance she’d never get to see home again.
“But apparently,” she continued, doing her best to shove the thought aside for now, “that wasn’t what made you come here to help. So what’s the deal? Did Hades decide to release the Titans again and send them our way, or what?” She shuddered. Though simply another movie reference, the thought drew that morning’s dream back to her mind.
She glanced toward her backpack with her sketchbook and the sketch of the screaming hand bursting through the ground. She shook her head slightly and refocused on Dan.
Drust’s brow rose slightly at Ghent’s comment. “The same could be said of your world,” he intoned as Ghent took the watch. With the way he held it, the boy looked afraid of breaking it. “It’s not delicate, boy.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s designed for adventurers. It can take a beating.”
Drust watched him for a moment. He spared the back of the Chrono a quick glance, the spiky lettering of his name and flowing cursive of another language a familiar sight.
Drust gave a quick, approving, “Hm” and jerky nod at Ghent’s agreement at his orders. Though he suspected he’d get woken at every slightest rustle, he at least believed Ghent would wake him. The action turned into a sneer at Ghent’s comment to the mantra.
“To think,” he growled, neck twitching as he pulled his katana from the earth. He turned from Ghent, keeping the weapon’s tip pointed at the ground. “I was worried you’d begun to trust us,” he finished with a snort. He tossed a couple more logs into the fire, the extra force behind the motion making the flames send indignant sparks hissing into the air.
Elayra shifted in her sleep, making Drust look to her. The girl pulled her cloak tighter around her as she adjusted so her opposite side faced the fire, but didn’t wake.
He took a deep breath, then knelt before his stuff. The warmth and light of the flames bathed half his body. He sheathed his weapon, then glanced over when Ghent offered him the cloak.
Drust shook his head, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Elayra again. “If you can avoid tripping on it, use it. If you think you'll need it to keep warm. Do an occasional perimeter check. But stay in the Safe Zone.” He tipped his pack onto its back, readying to lay down. Items rustled inside, but he paid it little mind. “And watch for fog rolling in. The Chrono’s predicting it.”
He frowned at Ghent’s questions about the OmniChrono. Of everything he could have asked, he went with the irrelevant. Drust sighed and raised a hand, trying to silence the boy before he added any more questions to his unending string.
“No, it’s not a family heirloom,” he answered, beginning with the first of Ghent’s questions. “And no, that’s technically not me.” His lips quirked in a smile that looked more deranged than amused to an unfamiliar eye. “OmniChronos were standard issue. For all knights of the palace. That was their typical design for us. The White Queen and Hatter had mine engraved. And replaced the usual sword of the White Knight's design with a katana.
“The numbers signify my creation date. The rest is in a language of magic.” 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. “‘One journey’s end is the beginning of another. Enduring strength be yours.’ I suspect Hatter used it to enchant it as well.” His amused expression softened, shifting from deranged to lopsided. “He never admitted to it. But that Chrono’s more resistant to magic and physical beatings than normal.”
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