MSPA Fanfiction VII: End of Thread 6 Flash

[Sionnan]

Hey guys, have some head canon that I've got for Dirk. So basically, Strider fic.

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He doesn't remember much of his bro. He remembers some of his scent, sometimes catches a whiff of it when he's rooting through old crap from his younger days. He remembers long legs and a mess of fair hair, and the serious gaze.

That was a while ago. To be honest, he's pretty sure his bro wouldn't approve of half the shit he does now, not that it barely matters. Half of which is the hardcore deviant porn he dabbles in, definitely not something his bro would have let slide past.

Like it hardly matters now.

The thing is, Dirk is smart. And cunning; he's learned how to live on his own, and perhaps the best thing the Baroness ever did for him was perpetuate the myth that his brother was still alive, unwittingly ensuring that he could be left unmolested and to his own devices. It certainly cut down on the risk of child protective services getting called on him, and in only a few short years would he be rid of that risk entirely. Eighteen never looked better.

Most of his illegal shit is done online, where he's got half a dozen proxies made by Lalonde bouncing him around the globe. The rest of his illegal shit is done so far under the radar that authorities would need to consult Lovecraft about plumbing the depths of the Marianna Trench to get a fix on him.

Speaking of Lovecraft, he can't read him anymore. Used to be, he consumed pretty much any literature he could get his hands on, but after a certain point, Lovecraft's bullshit would pluck a certain, terrible chord deep in his chest, and he'd fuck right off out of there. He probably lost any love for 'Craft about the same time he started having nightmares.

He stays awake, sometimes for days, trying to stave them off. He fucks around on Paint when he can't sleep, drawing images that he barely remembers from dreams. Of course, there's a difference from running around on Derse and having dreams. Sometimes, he thinks that the reason why his dreams are so fucked is because he went looking too deep, too soon, and only got himself a bellyful of horror.

As he's gotten older, and the dreams have gotten more bizaree, the world around him has taken on subtle reflections of his dreams. Maybe it's a part of growing up and dealing with the bullshit, getting tougher. He is both impressed and dismayed at his own progress, watching as relatively innocuous or innocent content is subtly warped.

Kind of like him. Stretching and distorting ever so slowly over time, like a music box lullabye played too assiduously before bed. Routines becoming mockeries.

And as much as regular bullshit passes him by, like CPS and everything that comes with the visceral lack of a guardian, it's not like his life is some sequestered bed of roses, all boxed in and sheltered from the world. Which is probably why he's got the world's biggest puppy crush on Jake. The fucker has this ridiculous, old world charm that's only made posible because he's the most sheleterd dude on the face of the planet. Living a life of (admittedly dangerous) adventure, but it's as much of a fairytale as Dirk would ever dream possible. The kid has so much charisma that it's not even funny, made all the more palatable because he's so pure and unattainable. Prince Charming, except not really.

Of course, in spite of his genuine love for his friends, there's shit he'd never tell them. Details of his life, for one. Sure, he fucks around and shows them bits and pieces of his life, but he tends to lie in the bed he's made. Or the one made for him, what the fuck ever. It's not like grudgematch robot battles are the only thing that have toughened him the fuck up; repeated and close contact concerning some of his darker proclivities definitely contributed to it.

He hasn't been a kid for a very long time. It's not growing up that he's doing so much as hardening, like a blade constantly burning and cooling. He knows a lot; probably more than any of his friends, partly because of his brother. But partly because he tries to listen to the whispers.

They're probably the reason why he's dreamed of his death for a long time.

Well.

At least he's prepared.

ETA: @Arcfour-- oh Eridan. That was a pretty perfect examination of our loneliest megalomaniac up in here. Loved the pale/pail bit, nice play on words, and very natural. You can practically taste his hurt and lack of self esteem.

[ArcFour]

Thanks, Sionnan!

I really wanted to get a very neutral sense of him, and I'm happier with it every time I read it.

So, here's the Seer of Hope!

7 - Seer

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What do you believe in, Seer of Hope?

You believe in light that blooms like a flower, in the strange taste of fairy dust from a westward wind, in the gentle touch of shadows chiding you for your trespass, and in the soft places of the world where everything is true.

You are strange, but that is the way you like it.

After all, the world is a strange place.

You’ve seen it, after all. You’ve seen the eyes that look back from cold brick wall, and you’ve heard the song of rain dancing on the cobblestones. You’ve felt the trees watch you as you watch them, and you’ve talked with the river in words you cannot understand.

And in your dreams, you see even more.

You see golden spires in a tar-black void, and a mighty chain that keeps a moon bound to its mother. You’ve seen the beings of chess-white marble and friendly black eyes, marching about as if playing a board. You’ve seen white infinite clouds of sound and sight and truth, a window into the stranger lines of the future.

The world is a strange place, and soon you know you’ll see the strangest places of them all.

They will be dark places, you know. Places of dark grins and murderous knives held by cancerous malice, places of impish mischiefs and ogre-cruelty, of basilisk tongues and lich-grasps.

They will be battle places, of flashing Sword and glinting Coin and swishing Wand and your own truth-sight Vessel that shows you the End of Things.

They will be wild places, of reaching green Spires, of voluminous Clouds, of deep-fanged Maws, of soft, crystalline Glass.

They will be end places.

And all of you will die.

The others know this. They see the dark and the battle and the wild, and they see death. Of course they do. Doom and Blood and Rage they are, dark souls and battle souls and wild souls, meant to fight and dance and control, and all they see is the End.

They do not See what lies Beyond.

And nowadays, neither do you.

You see what they see, and you see it better. You see the Ends, a crushing end and a fiery end and a bloody end and for you, a shattering of mind and body at the hands of a dark Mistress, a battle-eyed Empress, a wild Black Queen.

You see nothing but the End, now.

But there was a time, long, long ago, before you understood the Truth, before you awoke among the Towers, before you began to read the Clouds, when you saw something More.

There is still the First Dream, waiting to come to pass.

You are the Seer of Hope, and a Question must be asked.

What do you believe in?

You believe in that one soft dreamlit vision of your youth. You believe in the gentle, tearstained smiles of weary heroes. You believe in the bright light of a new sun, blooming like a flower in the sky. You believe in the strange taste of fairy dust from a newborn wind.

You believe in the chiding hands of shadows protesting the first trespass they had ever known.

You believe in a world where everything is new.

You believe in this dream, and so you face your End, your Shattering, with a smile on your face.

Every other dream came true, after all.

And stranger things have happened.

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Guess what titles the other three players of her session have? 8D

[UkiTheMaid]

So, I dunno if this is the place to post it, but since it isn't really a SUPER IMPORTANT PROJECT, I don't think it really deserves a post for this only (maybe it does? I don't think it's good enough, but maybe it is).

I've started an 'original thing' based off Homestuck. These five kids play a game, shit happens, trolls annoy them, blah blah blah, everone knows the drill.

I was planning to make drawings to go with the text but, nope, not happening. I can't emulate the MSPA style even if my life depended on it (maybe one day I cna find someone who might want to join this crazy ride and draw stuff for me *lol*).

That said, GRAMOPHONESTUCK STARTS HERE. I gave it that name because the kids I'm using for this misadventure were made for another story I had planned, eons ago, but never really bothered about starting, said story concerning a fictional band called The Calm Gramophone (I still like this name). I had the kids personalities down, but never wrote much of a backstory for them.

So, yep. If you guise have any opinions on this, like if I'm going the right way with this, I would appreciate it

[Katrika]

Here's the third part of my series. It's less graphically violent than the first two parts.

Pound of Flesh

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She's attacked countless times, always violent and unexpected. She's the boogeyman, the monster under the bed, the thing that goes bump in the night. She's the subject of whispered rumors and gleefully scary stories. Everyone knows her, and nobody admits to being scared.

She's the Demoness, and she's coming.

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Link to ao3.

[Dmatix]

Katrika, that was pretty damn great. The tone was a lot more to my liking this time, and your prose is terrific. Kudos!
The part about the rebel was my favorite.

On an unrelated note, I finished the chapter two of The Last Journey of the Knight of Sands

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Chapter Two: Witch and Page

Since the day I landed on Lyr a little less than a year after Adrian, I’ve been training under the Shield Sages, the city’s guild of protectors. From them I learned the arts of defense, both martial and magical. My days consisted of training and little else, beside bi-weekly meetings with the other future players, which the Vizier deemed necessary for building “Team Spirit”, as he often called it.

I recall one particular meeting, The last one before the game began. The meetings took place in a different guild every week. That last meeting was in the Hall of Artificers, home to the Metal Makers and Sagacious Scholars. I made it a habit to arrive early-the Vizier didn’t take kindly to tardiness. The Hall was a plain round stone building, as utilitarian as the guilds inhabiting it. Halus stood at the entrance, waiting for me.

Halus Nost, Page of Space, was raised by the Metal Makers, responsible of manufacturing the weapons and armor for the more warlike guilds of Lyr, as well as other gadgetry. He and his sister Teni fell on the same day, about six months after me. Even though I was older, he towered over me as he approached me with the same easy smile he always wore. Putting a big, muscular hand on my shoulder, he started:
“Ah, Edris! How auspicious it is to meet you here! What brings you our humble abode?”
“Cut it out Hal. I get enough fruity talk from your sister, and you know damn well why I’m here.”
Hal grinned. “You are such a spoilsport, Ed, I swear.”
“Anyone else here yet?”
“Nah, just Teni and me. She’s busy working on some project of hers; she’ll be here any second”
This gave me pause. Nothing good ever came from Teni’s “projects”.
“Let’s get inside,” Halus said, rubbing his hands. “I’m freezing out here”
We made our way to the meeting room. Inside, Teni was waiting, busy fiddling with one of her infernal contraptions.

Teni Nost, Witch of Mind, was Halus’ antithesis. Short, dark and thin where he was tall, fair and broad-shouldered. She was raised by the Sagacious Scholars, the city’s leading scientist and academics. They weren’t truly brother and sister of course, but due to the fact they fell on the same day and that the heads of their guilds were married, they were raised as such.
“Salutations Edris. How pleasant it is to have you with us again.” She said, hammering on the machine with a large wrench. The thing began to pulse with bright colors.
“Um, is that supposed to glow like that?”
“I should not think so; it is only a debris removal module”
“She means a vacuum cleaner.” Halus supplied.
“Thank you Hal, I get it.”
“Do not let the glowing disquiet you, it is a perfectly within the acceptable pera-“
The device then proceeded to explode, showering the room with dust. Teni must have forgotten to empty it.
“Well this is just great Teni” Halus sighed. “Now who is going to clean this mess up? The Vizier will be livid!”
“I would be happy to do it, but it seemed I have misplaced my debris removal module.”

And so we went on arguing and bickering, falling into our old comfortable routine. Even though we only saw each other twice a week, we grew to know each other well over the years. As I sit here on an empty ship on its way to everywhere and nowhere, remembering that last meeting- Halus’ cheerful and loud, Teni quiet and serious, myself abrasive and confident- the weight of these lost times on my shoulders seems all the more heavy.

[ArcFour]

Okay, here's the Knight! Warnings for language.

8 - Knight

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Who do you fight for, Knight of Hope?

The fuck if you know.

You’ve had people telling you all your life who and what you should fight for. You don’t know who to believe anymore.

The creeper? The strange, white text chick who seems to know more than she should? She tells you you’re going to fight for a miserable cause. You’re going to fight for something stupid, she says. Fuck her. She’s probably just trying to scare you.

Your school? They tell you not to fight. It’s wrong, apparently. Screw them. You don’t give a damn what they think, anyway. Those teachers, those kids, those outsiders have never been on the same wavelength as you.

Like they were another species or something.

Your friends? Two of them don’t want you to fight. You understand those two, though. They just want you safe.

Heh. Deep city kid getting advice from the woods and mountain dwellers about how to survive. It’s cute.

The third, though, she’s different. Different in a lot of ways, but in the Question as well. She wants you to fight for…

Something? Shit, you don’t understand. Yellow and purple cities, apparently. A dark moon prince, she calls you.

You’re no prince. If you were a prince, you’d have money. Money enough to get the hell out of this place.

But she, the little dreamer by the sea, wants you to fight for bigger things. She wants you to fight for a cause.

You’d find it precious, if she weren’t so fucking serious about it all.

Life isn’t a fantasy, as your Uncle would say.

Heh. Segue points.

So last, and not fucking least, is your Uncle.

Your mother. Fucking. Uncle.

He wants you to fight because…

Fuck. Because he never did, that’s what you think.

You used to wonder if he was doing it for you. Like, if he was preparing you for the kind of shit that life throws at you. You could appreciate that, you think.

But no. Too much bitterness in him for that. You think maybe he just wants a weapon.

Countless nights in back-alley streets, nothing but whatever you could get your hands on between you and bruised ribs, bloody hands, black eyes, all in the name of training.

Heh. And your teachers wonder why you get into so many fights.

You still haven’t beaten the man at his own game, but damn it all, you’ve tried.

You keep on trying right through the end of the world.

And fuck it all, would you look at that. Fire and brimstone, like a biblical Apocalypse.

With that all coming down, you’re quickly shunted into the Game.

Heh. Little sea dreamer was right all along, wasn’t she?

So now you’re a Knight. And now the Game wants you to fight, too.

Could it be bothered to give you anything to work with, though?

Of fucking course not. That’d be too easy.

Little tree walker gets the fun stuff, gets to mess with the fabric of Space. And the mountain climber gets to fuck with Time.

Even the little sea dreamer got her own special suite of Mind powers.

All you’ve got is a crappy blade, and all the wrong training.

Your Uncle never taught you to fight. He just taught you how to get beat up.

And you do. A lot. Anything bigger than an imp seems to toss you around like a fucking toy, and even the imps swarm you easy. The Time chicky is at your back a lot, saving your weary ass from one encounter or another. She doesn’t seem to mind.

You don’t really care anymore, either.

This isn’t your Game. This isn’t your Cause. This isn’t your Fight.

Another world? You could give a damn. You don’t want to rule, and you don’t want the responsibility. You get through this, you’ll probably just find a nice rock and be a hermit.

Revenge? You didn’t even like the world you came from.

Power? The Game sure as hell didn’t give you anything to work with.

Just your own two fists, and a shitty sword.

You’re at the bottom of the fucking totem pole, with nothing but your own pigheaded stubbornness and a guardian angel keeping you from taking a dirt nap.

And despite it all, you’ve still got a Question that must be asked.

Who do you fight for?

Heh.

Looks like you’ve known the answer all along.

Someone’s been worth it, after all. There’s someone you have to fight for, someone you have to stand for, someone you have to succeed for.

You.

You fight for yourself.

Because despite it all, despite every person you’ve let down, every person whose expectations you betrayed, you refuse to give yourself that final indignity.

You refuse to give up.

So from every failed fight, you’ll pick yourself up from the dust.

You’ll lick every wound, and come back with a vengeance.

All you’ve got is two fists and a shitty sword.

So you’ll make that work.

You may be at the bottom, but it just means that when you get to the top, you’ll be all the stronger for it.

It’s time to get off your fucking knees.

It’s time to wrap your hand around that shitty handle.

It’s time to show this Game how much of a mistake it made, bringing you into all of this.

You’re the Knight, and you’re fighting for a miserable, stupid cause.

Heh. Looks like the white-texted creeper was right about that all along.

But you know the truth.

It’s not hopeless.

Not while you can stand.

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This one was fun. Next is the Maid, then the Bard, then the Rogue, and last (AS ALWAYS) the Heir.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@UkiTheMaid: This is as fair a place as any to put that. Non-interactive adventures certainly go in the Artbound subforum (generally, because they're posted forum-style instead of on their own pages). So long as it's still on its own page, I don't see why it shouldn't be in this thread!

[UkiTheMaid]

@UkiTheMaid: This is as fair a place as any to put that. Non-interactive adventures certainly go in the Artbound subforum (generally, because they're posted forum-style instead of on their own pages). So long as it's still on its own page, I don't see why it shouldn't be in this thread!

Ah, thanks for the 'clarification'

I don't think I have the necessary skills to make an 'interactive' adventure, because I end up being TERRIBLE when under pressure and if I start a project like that, even if no one says a thing, I'll still feel pressured to 'rush' stuff for the sake of others, and things mind end up bad, artistically speaking.

Not to mention i'm doing this mostly to exercise my writting skills and my original chracter development *chuckles*

[ArcFour]

Hahahah, I completely agree, Uki. I'd have a harder time with people rushing me. Urging to continue and cheer-leading and other such encouragement is great, but an actual "I put in a request and it hasn't happened yet, *saddest of faces*" would make me rush stuff.

And also, the Titles were originally a way for me to do exactly what I've managed to do with the Prince, Seer, and Knight of Hope; write different characters with wildly different sorts of inner monologue. Unique voices are hard, sirs.

Speaking of which, I totally did not think the Seer of Hope would sound so much like Luna Lovegood when I planned her, but that ended up beautifully. I am exceedingly pleased with my last few.

Also, would anyone like to see me rewrite the Canon characters I've done so far? Looking back, I think that maybe Eridan is the only one I've managed to do justice. Anyone else agree (or have one or two they'd specifically like redone)?

I think I've done Dave, Aradia, Terezi, Nepeta, Gamzee, and Eridan so far, and Eridan's definitely the best.

I've considered going back and redoing some of the lesser quality Non-Canon characters, too, but unless there are any that anyone thinks are truly bad, I'll probably leave them for posterity's sake. But I'd really like to do the Canon characters justice, to really get their voices down, make it sounds like them, you know?

[Dmatix]

Just a quick question guys.
I'm about to finish chapter three of my fanfic (Last Journey of the Knight of Sands), and since I don't have a Ao3 account yet I'm having a bit of trouble keeping up with where my chapter posts are on this thread (for referencing).
Would it be acceptable to open a thread and post them there too? I've seen a few threads like that and they seemed fine.

[SkaianRedeemer]

You're allowed one personal art thread, or so is the impression I got a year ago and have operating on since.

But as the messy (or perhaps I would prefer extremely tidy) forumite who used to run around with ~30 chapters and fics linked in their sig and each chapter carefully referenced in front of every other chapter, I assure you that not doing so is also perfectly viable.

[Dmatix]

Alright, good to know. I'll post the thread once chapter 3 is done.

Edit: and here it is:

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http://mspaforums.com/showthread.php...night-of-Sands

[ArcFour]

Here's the Maid of Hope; next is the Bard.

9 - Maid

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How do you die, Maid of Hope?

Does it matter?

Death can come in so many ways, after all.

It could be by the meteors (old-stone and red-fire) that herald the coming of the Game, could it not?

Or perhaps by those creatures (slick-blood and malice-hearted), those enemies who stand in your way.

Or maybe it’s the Queen (battle-dressed and oblivion-seeking) who will give you your end, in a final confrontation of titanic proportions.

You have a hard time caring, in the end. One death (black-death, dream-death, god-death) is much the same as another.

It’s an end.

And maybe you’d like an end. Maybe you’d like to stop, and lie in the sand, and just… drift away into nothingness (sorrowless, griefless, painless).

There are so many ways you could do it. A ring (sun-banded, grass-jeweled, power-filled), its powers turned inward, perhaps. A fall from a cliff into the deep sands (dark sands, grey sands) below would be quick.

Or perhaps you’ll just let it be messy (red-blood, pink-flesh, lifeless and wasted), and let an Ogre take a swipe at you.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you don’t care enough, to do it or not, to die or to live.

It’s been that way since he (bright-eyed, soft-smiled, sibling-parent) went away.

Ever since he died (green-light, death-light, sun-light).

How can you move on without him?

He was going to keep you safe (protected, warm, sheltered). And he died.

It all seems pointless, now.

And suddenly, He (viper-grinned, dagger-eyed, devil-winged) is there.

He holds trophies in his hand (a familiar watch, a leather-bound book, a white-silver pendant, a pale-yellow feather), trophies of those he has taken (guardians, parents, protectors).

And now he is here to take you (end you, kill you).

And he has so many ways (green-fire-ways, black-thunder-ways, gold-nothing-ways, Sun-ways) at his disposal to do it.

All you have to do is choose which one.

You are the Maid of Hope (servant-child, chain-bound, despair-ridden, weak) and this demon (this cancer, this disease, this titan) asks you the Question you must answer.

How do you die?

There are so many ways, aren’t there?

But seeing that watch (his watch, Brother’s watch, your watch), you realize that there’s only one death you want.

You’re going to die of old age (of life filled, of a world made, of a purpose fulfilled).

You’re going to die in a world (a universe, a Reward, a destiny) you made by your own hand.

Not by this monster’s (this wretch’s, this devil’s, this murderer’s) hand.

You stand in the dark sand (deep sand, grey sand, your sand), and bring your weapon (your band, your power, your ring) to bear, and make a decision.

Time to live.

[UkiTheMaid]

Here's the Maid of Hope; next is the Bard.

9 - Maid

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How do you die, Maid of Hope?

Does it matter?

Death can come in so many ways, after all.

It could be by the meteors (old-stone and red-fire) that herald the coming of the Game, could it not?

Or perhaps by those creatures (slick-blood and malice-hearted), those enemies who stand in your way.

Or maybe it’s the Queen (battle-dressed and oblivion-seeking) who will give you your end, in a final confrontation of titanic proportions.

You have a hard time caring, in the end. One death (black-death, dream-death, god-death) is much the same as another.

It’s an end.

And maybe you’d like an end. Maybe you’d like to stop, and lie in the sand, and just… drift away into nothingness (sorrowless, griefless, painless).

There are so many ways you could do it. A ring (sun-banded, grass-jeweled, power-filled), its powers turned inward, perhaps. A fall from a cliff into the deep sands (dark sands, grey sands) below would be quick.

Or perhaps you’ll just let it be messy (red-blood, pink-flesh, lifeless and wasted), and let an Ogre take a swipe at you.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you don’t care enough, to do it or not, to die or to live.

It’s been that way since he (bright-eyed, soft-smiled, sibling-parent) went away.

Ever since he died (green-light, death-light, sun-light).

How can you move on without him?

He was going to keep you safe (protected, warm, sheltered). And he died.

It all seems pointless, now.

And suddenly, He (viper-grinned, dagger-eyed, devil-winged) is there.

He holds trophies in his hand (a familiar watch, a leather-bound book, a white-silver pendant, a pale-yellow feather), trophies of those he has taken (guardians, parents, protectors).

And now he is here to take you (end you, kill you).

And he has so many ways (green-fire-ways, black-thunder-ways, gold-nothing-ways, Sun-ways) at his disposal to do it.

All you have to do is choose which one.

You are the Maid of Hope (servant-child, chain-bound, despair-ridden, weak) and this demon (this cancer, this disease, this titan) asks you the Question you must answer.

How do you die?

There are so many ways, aren’t there?

But seeing that watch (his watch, Brother’s watch, your watch), you realize that there’s only one death you want.

You’re going to die of old age (of life filled, of a world made, of a purpose fulfilled).

You’re going to die in a world (a universe, a Reward, a destiny) you made by your own hand.

Not by this monster’s (this wretch’s, this devil’s, this murderer’s) hand.

You stand in the dark sand (deep sand, grey sand, your sand), and bring your weapon (your band, your power, your ring) to bear, and make a decision.

Time to live.

Man, have you been channeling my mind?

I've been writting this original thingy, and one of my characters is a Maid of Hope, so I ended up reading this one just because...

And, OK, this doesn't fit the story I have for MY Maid of Hope... But it's eerily similar to the one I have for my Knight of Rage.

Like, really. It's too similar, it gives me the chills. I'm off to read all yoru other stories now /goes back into hiding

[ArcFour]

Oh, cool! As everyone here knows, I love comments and critique, so please let me know which ones you liked and disliked!

Especially the ones you liked; I have a personal Best List, of the ones I thought were my best works, but I love to know what other people's Best Lists are.

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For anyone who's interested, my Best List is as follows:
Thief of Time
Bard of Mind
Heir of Mind
Page of Heart
Maid of Heart
Mage of Heart
Thief of Heart
Heir of Heart
Seer of Rage
Mage of Chaos
Prince of Hope (The only Canon character I've gotten right, I think)
Seer of Hope
Knight of Hope

These are all the ones that I think fulfill the mythology I've built best. They also have great voices and character in my head; these are the kids who almost sound real, or natural, to me.

There, I showed you mine. Now show me yours.

[Dmatix]

Knight of Hope was my favorite I'd say. Something about the rough around the edges kid that only knows fighting hit home.

I've made an attempt to write a short ballad for my fic. I follows the metric rules for a ballad quite loosely, but I like it nevertheless.

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Today the world will burn,
As fiery death from heavens rained
Upon once mighty stronghold down
From earth all trace of Breath is drained.

Today the world will drown
Its Void is filed with endless dread
Its Hope is snuffed and gone
Its Heart replaced with Lifeless lead.

Today the world is dead,
Its endless Space consumed by hate
The fury of its Rage, now ash
Oblivion will be its fate.

Today the world is dark,
Its very Mind by tyrant crushed
And nothing here reminds,
But Sands and Stars and rust.

[mutecebu]

Dmatix, usually people just keep track of all their fics by linking it in their signature. The main advantage of this is that all the fanfic-lovers see every time you post an update. Like Skaian said, it's perfectly acceptable to do either, though.

[Dmatix]

Alright, I'll do that.

[UkiTheMaid]

ArcFour, I'm reading through your fics and I've read the 'Time Arc' so far, and these are the ones I liked:

Bard of Time, because I think you captured the essence of this role pretty well.
Thief of Time, because PLOT TWIST.
Page of Time, because it makes a whole lot of sense, for me.
Seer of Time, because... *sob*
Heir of Time, because NOT EXPECTING THAT, it was great!

Wow, OK, I'm enjoying pretty mcuh ALL of these /shifty eyes

Recently, on my original HS thingy I'm writting, I'm going for the following roles (if I don't decide to change anything all of sudden): Maid of Hope, Bard of Space, Mage of Time, Prince of Breath and Knight of Rage for the five main characters. Reading your series certainly is helping me set their powers and what they can do or not more 'specifically'. It's being a pretty great read!

[Dmatix]

It's strange that we managed to both write HM fanfics and not have one identical title. My players are the Heir of Hope, the Thief of Rage, the Page of Space, the Witch of Mind, the Rogue of Life, the Mage of Void, the Sylph of Heart and the Maid of Breath, plus a Knight and Seer with original titles.

[UkiTheMaid]

It's strange that we managed to both write HM fanfics and not have one identical title. My players are the Heir of Hope, the Thief of Rage, the Page of Space, the Witch of Mind, the Rogue of Life, the Mage of Void, the Sylph of Heart and the Maid of Breath, plus a Knight and Seer with original titles.

Ah, you have so many O_O I'm already having a hard time dealing with five characters (plus a fantroll that still needs more development). I'm also pretty 'insecure' with creating original roles, so I'm sticking to what's already stabilished, as to not make things too convoluted. Maybe later I can venture into more original roles *hehe*

[MTG]

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Earth, where someone has a big problem about something, but others just don’t give a frog. Especially things happen on their home planet like war and economy and stupid stuff.
But on another planet there are people but different looks and lives: gray skin, weird ears, sharp teeth, random candy corn colored shaped horns and shirts of their symbol. Call their houses hives; they have a culture that we don’t know so far, so as we go through the story, we may know their culture. But two unlikely humans “kids” will united with these mysterious people and give them not just respect, but with honor. Ok enough of this, let’s introduce to one of the humans.

We suddenly in a room of a girl that looks like a 12 year old girl scout with those stupid twin pig tails. But she really 4 years older and no she don’t sell cookies. Your name is Momo Code and you much be in LOVE with teddy bears. To some people, teddy bears can help you go fall asleep, but for me, they’re perfect for pillows. And you are chilling in your room from a long day of your troublesome school. You be wondering why she not on her laptop chatting with her friends or at least someone mysterious, but 1. She doesn’t have friends (at all) and 2. She didn’t meet anyone mysterious… yet.
Que, ya’ll are wondering why Momo doesn’t have friends? How do I know? Found out yourself, ya’ll spoilers! Ok let continue with the story. Hm, it seems she’s thinking about her day in school. Let’s look in her thought bubble, there are a branch of girls surround her saying very mean words to her. A lot of witnesses were there, some joined in the name calling and others just ignored it all like Momo deserved these awful words. Oh no, her eyes looks bloodier than before let’s step back some. Oh she about to throw something, head up! Whoa, that was close! She about to throw her big- butt doll at us. Luckily we’re invisible to her. Ah man, she started crying… but just a little. Hm, it’s seem that she have a RAGE issue without a signal to others. But you’re calm now and waiting for your brother to call or message you.
While you wait, what are you going to do?
But she was interrupted from a message on her laptop. I wonder who is messaging at this time.
TrueTeddybear chatting with exasperantJuggernaut!
EJ: Hey Sis.
EJ: I got a call from your school that you punch a girl in a face.
EJ: Are you ok?
TT: I’m fine
TT: are you mad at me? O nO
EJ: just a little.
EJ: you got to control your inner self.
EJ: or else you will be in a house of the crazies.
TT: plz don’t say that, brother.
TT: u know I don’t want to go back
TT: they treated me the same like school!
EJ: haha sorry sis.
EJ: I know you don’t want to go back.
EJ: I promise I never let you go back there.
TT: lol I hope not
TT: are you still at work?
EJ: yea.
EJ: I’m being at work late finishing things up before heading home.
TT: ok
TT: but hurry up
TT: I don’t want to be worry about you
EJ: don’t worry sis.
EJ: I try my best to get home for you and maybe we can bake a cake together.
TT: heck yea!
TT: u know how to make me happy brother
EJ: of course.
EJ: that’s my job.
EJ: see ya home sis.
exasperantJuggernaut logged out!

Wow, that was interesting, she gone from upset to happy just like *snaps* that! Who was that guy anyway? Hm, let’s go find him.

Throughout the city, we finally found the guy. It’s a pretty big house and there a face painted guy just walked out of the house. Is he supposed to be a clown or something? On his name tag it said Bubba the basketball clown. My guess was corrected, he IS a clown. So what is his name? Your name is Bubba Code and yes, you’re Momo’s big brother. You just finish your job as a CLOWN who plays basketball all his life and wants to show kids how you roll! The parents really love how you make the kids happy, but secretly Bubba isn’t really your first name. But when you were young, your sister called you Bubba because of her speech issues. You also single… wait single? He looks hot with his white and violet make-up, dang it! WHY NO WOMEN HAVE HIM?! He got so much swag, man! Anyways… you like PRINCE charming to the ladies, but you always have problems in fights but don’t know why. Every time you get punch and see your own BLOOD, you go crazy! Brrr… it’s pretty cold outside and you need to get home to your sister, what are you going to do?
You walking your way home and it very cold out too, how the heck you not col… oh never mind, you getting on your hot car. No seriously, how come you don’t have a girlfriend. Anyways… again, you’re whipped his face paint off and opened a bottle of that weird soda called Topical Fantasy. I never try it before and I think there something in there that I don’t want to know. I wish I can try it though, but my mom don’t want me to drink sodas (I know its sucks). Ok back to the story; Bubba is checking his smart phone and there are a lot of messages. Let’s see, there a strange and girly username on these messages. Que, you much be a chick magnet or something.
You got 20 messages from GroomCindy!
Do you want to clear your message broad? … Messages deleted. Bubba sighed and pressed a lot of buttons to his friend list. … Do you want to have GroomCindy to your ignored list? He about to press yes, but he was stopped from a new message.
TinyAimie chatting with exasperantJuggernaut!
TA: Hey Bubba, I Just Wondering If You And Your Sister Can Hang Out With Me Some Day.
EJ: hey.
EJ: I got your message.
EJ: my sis and I will love to hang out with you…
EJ: but I’m… hm… busy this week.
EJ: maybe… hm… this weekend, how that hears?
TA: That Hears Great!
TA: Well… Good Night Bubbie… ^^
EJ: haha good night.
TinyAimie logged out.
Hm, I think you DO have a girlfriend or at least a close friend. Ok, now you started up his car and then drove off to the high way. Now we introduced our two main characters, let see how they got to meet these mysterious people and going to get save.

please some feedback?

[ArcFour]

I LOVE original Titles, personally. There are lots of possibilities and neat plots and powers you can get with them. Sands was always one I wanted to use (I had an old idea of mine that never panned out with an Heir of Sands that was full of what we like to call 'teh awesoem'). Embers, too (though I suppose it breaks the Titles rule of Single Syllable Only, but wwhatevver).

Also, Dmatix, I was trying to figure out which two Classes you weren't using, and for some reason it took a while. Y U NO BARD/PRINCE?

I can see not using the Bard, actually. It's probably my least favorite Class. (<--- Hah, I bet some people thought that would be Sylph, huh? WELL YOU WERE WRONG. Sylphs are hard to work with, but still are often interesting.)

Prince, though? It's one of my favorites! (tied closely with Seer and Knight, probably).

[Dmatix]

Prince is a really good title, I just couldn't really find any character it suited. I choose Stars and Sands as my unique aspects since I wanted to try a session without a Hero of Time, and the combination of the powers I plan for these aspects could replace Time in some ways I find interesting. The real point of Last Journey of the Knight of Sands is trying to discuss the aftermath of a successful session though.
I also considered an Embers-like fire Hero, but I wanted to restrict the group to only ten.

[UkiTheMaid]

I'm always too afraid of making my characters look 'too special'. I've read way too many things regarding Mary Sues and that kind of made me all paranoid about all my original characters. I'm always worried if I'm making them too extraordinary, but then I go "Wait, but what if I'm making them too boring?" It's a constant battle inside my mind, really.

But, to be honest, Homestuck at least gives you more room to work with because, let's face it, almost everyone is pretty extraordinary in this series, so if your characters go that way, you really aren't stretching things all that much *haha* But I'm going to stay inside a more comfortable zone for now, because it's working for me =3c