The Bureaucratic Mess [It's a Grand Battle!] [SIGNUPS]

[Anomaly]

The Bureaucrat sighed.

The battles were, in a word, a mess. No order or forethought was put into them whatsoever. A mentally deficient ape could do better than those despicable "Grandmasters", and yet no one stopped them. They couldn't even prevent their own contestants from conspiring against them, or even nearly killing them. Some of them were even actively destructive to themselves. Some idiot even managed to crash two timelines together and quite nearly destabilize the multiverse in its entirety.

The Bureaucrat had long considered running a battle of his own, but he had simply been far too preoccupied with other matters. But now that the time had at last come, it felt... wrong, somehow. He simply couldn't lower himself to the level of the Grandmasters. Instead, he had a much greater idea.

He would attempt to find the perfect candidate for running a battle. The perfect Grandmaster. The process was simple, really. He would simply start up a battle and bring in a series of potential Grandmasters to run it. Each would go in sequence, and in the end he would have his selection. It was perfect in its simplicity, really.

After all, what could go wrong?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This is, of course, a Grand Battle, the ever-textwally fight to the death with words. There are eight contestants, and there are seven rounds. Each round, someone dies, and the rest move on to another location to repeat the process. This goes on ad nauseum until at last one has survived, and is declared the winner.

Rather, this is how it's supposed to work.

The Bureaucrat's rather poorly-thought-out process means that the Grandmaster will be switching out for every new round, and almost certainly between rounds as well. I will handle the Grandmaster switching, though anything I don't explicitly say is really up to the players. Got an ultra-authoritatan Grandmaster? You're probably going to be pretty restricted until he goes away. Got one who's particularly bad at keeping things together? Break the battle entirely! I'm not expecting the normal progression of a battle with this mess going on. Anything could happen to your characters at any time (although I won't just indiscriminately kill them off, since that would be stupid), so be ready.

As always, you should make a reserve post before you start writing so that no one waltzes in and stomps all over your toes. I won't bother setting a time limit for reserves since no one's going to follow them anyway. If a future Grandmaster happens to establish a strict time limit then you will in fact need to follow it, but until then reserves are lenient. Just don't take a week like some people always do. Some people meaning me.

And so without further ado, the character form.

Name: Your character's designation.
Gender: If you don't know what to put here, I think you should seriously reconsider your intent to sign up. ("None" and "Other" are valid choices.)
Color: What flavor does your character speak in? Note that #330066 is off-limits.
Race: What exactly is your character? A sentient headache? A bearded sword? Almost anything goes here.
Items/Abilities: What does your character carry with them, if anything? What super special amazing abilities do they have?
Description: What does your character look like? Moreover, what is your character like personality-wise? Both are important.
Biography: What did your character do before getting thrown into this mess?

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[kabbage]

Name: Jack (title given by the people: Bringer of Death) Mortal name unknown even by him

Gender: Was male before transformed into a lich

Color: Dark Orange on #000000

Race: He was once human, but after he died, he bargained with an evil spirit to become a Dark Lich

Items/Abilities: The source of his power comes from his cane, witch he embedded his phylactery. He dabbles and masters magic from telekinesis to mind control, from fireballs to hailstorms, from illusions to summoning minions. He concentrates mostly in the dark arts ,transformation, and minion summoning skills. For being one fond of magic, he has very good capabilities to sense any magic nearby with ease.

Description: Jack is 6.5 ft. tall (5.8 when he was human), wears a black gentleman's outfit. He also always carries his cane around with him at all time. Never once has it left his grasp sense he was turned into a lich. His skin has changed into a dark flowing substance, almost like fire. His eyes and mouth glow a ghastly dark orange. When it come to personality, he is always professional with everything he does, be it killing millions of souls or meeting with a guest. He always has a calm mood and his voice is the most gentlemanly you'll ever hear. He enjoys indulging himself in long novels and sitting by his own fireplace, witch glows a rather peculiar, yet beautiful violet.

Biography:

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Jack sat by the fireplace, indulging himself the latest novel he "borrowed" from the library his forces had just raided the past day. "The Conquest of Love", a touching love story about a commoner man falling madly in love with the prince of the land. While the king despises the relationship between a commoner and a royal, the two begin to meet in secret. In the end, the prince runs away with his lover so they can live in peace in another kingdom. Then Jack felt something, and put down his novel.

A completely black figure with completely white eyes from the other side of the room looked over.

"S-s-something wrong, My Lord?"

" i could've sworn i just felt magic, squire. its strange..."


"B-b-but sir, i hate to remind you, but, couldn't you s-s-sense where the magic was coming f-f-from?"

"That's just it, my apprentice, i can feel it's presence, but i cant find it's origin..."


"B-but how is that possible? N-nothing can hide from y-you My Lord!"

"I wouldn't say that what with this going on, now could I?"


"OH uh, uh, i didn't mean, uh uh..."

"Oh, don't pressure yourself, now you run along and get back to your practices."


"Y-yes My Lord!"

Jack watched as his apprentice hurried to the training ground to carry out his work. Jack started to ponder, now completely forgotten his novel he had just dropped onto the floor. He tried to concentrate on trying to find the strange magic's source. When he thought it was just a magic comet that had passed by, suddenly a bright light appeared in front of him. it grew in size as Jack stood and watched, unblinking, as the world around him began to disappear.

"I didn't know there was something more powerful on this planet than me. I'm intrigued...."

[Ixcalibur]

Name: The Conversion
Gender: None
Color: #02A3CF on #F9D508
Race: Sentient Religion
Items/Abilities: The Conversion is a gradual process. In its early stages it focuses on select individuals, though as their faith soars it begins to attract a larger group of people. It is of a general rule that the more people who have been Converted the less zealously they believe. This does not apply to the ‘Prophet’ or the first priests whose belief will always be strong. Most times someone writes a bible, this is an important artefact but is more symbolic than anything else.

Description: The Conversion is currently incarnated as a string of gold and blue prayer beads. Movement of this token will shift the consciousness of the Conversion, and if the beads are too far away to return itself to this item (for example a round transition has occurred) then a new instance of the Conversion will immediately begin. If the beads are destroyed, a new version will soon appear. The Conversion cannot be killed simply through destroying any particular item, but by killing the ideas behind it.

The Conversion will primarily target humans and humanoids, though in a pinch any sentient creature will do. It likes the colour gold and crosses (it will try to use a cross as its own religious symbol if it can justify doing so). It carries with it old fashioned values and archaic notions about sexuality. These are the only real constants between vastly differing Conversion iterations. A lot of its behaviour will be dictated by precisely what it chooses as its god.

Biography: The Conversion has been around for a long time and is responsible for all the major religions in its home world.

[Pharmacy]

Name: Ricardo
Gender: Male
Color: #869AA7
Race: Money Crab

Items/Abilities:

Ricardo is amphibious, capable of functionally as efficiently on land as in the oceans like the analogous crustaceans of our world. In addition, Ricardo has the benefit of natural armors. His plates are sufficiently strong enough to provide some protection from conventional attacks. However, the bottom portion, though segmented like the rest of his body, is somewhat weaker. Ricardo knows this and tends to play defensively, protecting his soft underbelly as much as possible.

Violence is not exactly his strongest suit. In fact, he abhors violence and prefers to stay out of brawls, sniffing at them as somewhat barbaric. Why does he need to have a heavy hand when he has a heavy way with words? Ricardo is a natural businessman and it shows. He knows the in and outs of economics and could wrap it around his tiny claw. If he wants something, he tends to get that. He is also rather good at convincing too. As far as Ricardo knows, this Grand Battle might be potential business.

However, the biggest trick up his nonexistent sleeve is his power, for a lack of a better word. Like all money crabs, Ricardo has this supernatural control over economics. Businesses tend to be better when he is around. Products become cheaper for consumers. There is a surplus of resources. The list goes on. However, that is normally what happens. If he feels malevolent or less than good, the opposite tends to happen. Fortunately for him, economics tend to apply to battles too.

Description:

Less of a less and more like some sort of hybrid between a lobster and a millipede, Ricardo looks pretty mundane when compared to our worldly crustaceans. As typical as to the analogous arthropods of our Earth, Ricardo is segmented and covered with chitinous plates. He has two massive blade-like pincers that he tucks in front. He scurries along eight clawed legs, each segmented pair proudly carrying his massive weight. His elongated body tapers to a fan like tail, underneath where there is ten more vestigial legs hanging uselessly in the air.

Ricardo stands tall, as tall as a massive crab can get. This “crab” is large but not massive. When Ricardo stands on his eight feet, he is roughly seven feet tall –enough to tower over most averaged size people. This gives him two advantages: he can make eye contact with people he converses with and he can give people condescending glares with his beady little eyes while twitching his glorious antennae, drooped in a manner that makes it resemble a massive handlebar mustache.

Ricardo is rather rude and bellicose, insulting of others unreasonably. With his somewhat righteous attitude, he enjoys the spoken word: diplomacy, arguing, and just plain old bickering. However, the way he does it is rather unintentionally charming and assuming, which makes his arguments somewhat of a riot to listen to. If there is one thing that Ricardo enjoys, it is being right. He enjoys being all smug about being right, even if it means being wrong later. He is a stubborn fellow like that.

Biography:

Ricardo lives in the realm populated by many sentient beings, including his kind. Unsurprisingly, the regions in which the Money Crabs tend to reside are economic hotspots. Ricardo, like many of his species, is an economist, consulting mundane civilians on investments and stocks. However, unlike his species, he is sort of a weirdo. His irate personality combined with his eagerness to challenge had officially labeled him as a maverick, a title that tends to draw an interesting combination of disrespect and awe from his peers.

Ricardo was doing his general business, advising, investing and getting angry over little things until a significant event happened. He found an equation that almost worked magically in the stock markets. Pretty soon, he touted this formula to others and pretty soon everyone was using it. Practically, the market erupted in fortune. Money came pouring in. Businesses were rolling in bank. There were even corporations popping up solely to inject this formula.

Unfortunately, things started to happen.

Predictions started to fall apart and the market began to develop in ways that his once-reliable equation could not predict. Pretty soon, a good amount of people started to default and suddenly the economy collapsed, rending the stock market to erupt into total chaos. The losses were so large that even the metaphysical power of the Money Crabs could not save the market. At the height (or the base) of the problem, people decided to go meet Ricardo to figure out things. However, when they got there,

he was somehow gone.

[kabbage]

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i don't see why people aren't signing up for this, this sounds awesome!

[Solaris]

:I

Username: Ssssslaris
Name: Walter Retlaw
Gender: Male
Race: Humanish
Colour: #8E0038
Biography: Turning things on their head is fun. Taking one thing and mixing it up so that it is the opposite is a very neat exercise. However, sometimes, that stuff can be taken too far.

Such is things with Walter Retlaw. From his youth, he always had been heckled for his reflective name, resulting in him being all alone growing up. As it would turn out, that was for the best. As Walter grew, he focused himself on the study of words and sayings, finding their origins, discovering old usages, and figuring out why they resulted the way they did, and not say, in a way flipped around.

He loved his work and he wouldn't have stopped if it wasn't for one book. It had been sent in from an anonymous donor, the brown book was slightly charred on the edges, but other than that, in very good condition. It was apparently a very old dictionary that had all sorts of archaic words. Walter was giddy and, after taking a few precautions for preservation, he flipped it open.

Now, had there been more than one human in the room, the results would have been a lot messier. Luckily, there was not, and instead there was only a flash. Walter later woke up, with the book still there, open to the page he flipped to. As he was about to read it, he unconsciously snapped, and the book flipped over. It took Walter a while to realize that he caused that.

Life after that was pretty much the same. Walter used his new power in very mundane ways, just using it to get the coffee, flip pancakes, grab keys; he soon realized that he didn't even need to snap! Overall, he was comfortable with this, and proceeded to work on his love of words, making sure to keep the book with him, and away from anyone who could discover what it did for him.

Until of course, he disappeared.
Description: Walter is a boring looking man. As a result, he is also inconspicuous. In fact, the only thing that someone could point out about him is that one, he carries around a big brown book and two, he sometimes just disappears and re-appears somewhere else and that is sort of weird. He's dressed in a nice and presentable suit, as he should be, and he does in fact carry around the book with him at all times. He's got brown hair and hazel eyes and he has a nice little Bowler hat on as well.

He is not that boring though! He's only a little insecure, mainly about his name and weight, but while he hasn't used his powers overtly it isn't like he's only thought about himself. He uses his powers for mundane things yea, but he's also used them to stop the pettier crimes that plague every day. He won't go out of his way to stop trouble and definitively won't look for it, but if the situation presents himself, he will do his best. He does love words though, and works his hardest when dealing with them.
Items/Abilities: He can flip things. As in take an object and just make it turn 180 degrees in an instant. He keeps the momentum of the object and it happens in a *snap*. However, it only works on one object at a time and he can't flip too many things in succession. So one or two people charging at him? Easy. Bullets coming in from all sides? He's pretty fucked. Flips can be horizontal or vertical. Distance wise, the flip can only cover as far as people would be able to hear him. It is much more difficult to perform underwater.

<this profile is kept for posterity, as I originally entered him before switching to another>

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Name: Chase Chaswell Charles
Gender: Male
Color: #t80_08t
Race: An asshole in human form.
Items/Abilities: Well, first of all, he's ambidextrous. He is fast, athletic, and sort of unflappable. His right hand has a large metal glove with a little clock insignia. This is the Sol. The Sol is a lightweight, durable, and powerful gauntlet capable of emitting and controlling fire, lifting large things and giving the user super strength, and very limited time manipulation. How much time manipulation depends on the power that The Sol currently has access to; while the rest of the glove is solar powered, the time mechanisms need a much more direct power source and require a lot of energy for anything more than accelerating time around Chase for more than five seconds, and even then it uses his own biological energy. But when he gets a lot of power, he can do quite a lot.
Description: Red hair, dyed of course, cut at medium length and kept so perfect. Sunglasses, always. He has a fancy-looking long sleeve shirt on, with a tie and everything, but it is completely unbuttoned. The suit is black, undershirt is red, tie is blue. He's has jeans on, dark and baggy ones. He has sneakers too. He's 18 and has a few useless metal rings on his left hand and some rubber bands on his hand and whatever.

He is a self centered person. He cares for himself and for making others care for himself, either by making them feel sorry for him by acting pathetic, or by making them want to follow him by acting incredible. He is brash and calls it as he sees it and doesn't really care about other's feelings. Overall he is a manipulative ass and he loves it.
Biography: He was once just a normal kid. Just running through his day, not caring much about life, worrying about school and girls and teachers. The completely normal kid was just going on his computer, surfing the internet, when things got decidedly unreal.

*POOOOM*

He heard a large boom, as suddenly a large bear-like creature appeared. It had a face of upmost seriousness, to the point that if it wasn't incredibly terrifying, it would be hilarious. Chase edged backwards on his seat, sweating. He was able to only muster out a "He... hey there..."

It simply stared "...."
And Chase couldn't do anything but stare back.

"You." The voice was scraggly but decidedly female.
"M... me?"
"YOU!"

She yelled, lunging for him and tackling him out of the wall into the front lawn, completely terrifying him.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE? EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE?"
He was sweating, on the verge of tears, "N...no NO. WHA I AAAAAAAAAAAH!"

*POOOOM*

Another large boom ringed through his ears. There was a click and a shot rang out. The Bearish Woman yelled in agony. Another person, much more human, with an odd rifle in his hand walked over and kicked the corpse over. "Are you okay?"

Chase was silent.

As it would later turn out, they were from the future. Both of them. According to the second man, she was a criminal who was foiled by something Chase would do and he came back to stop her. Chase questioned further, but he was scoffed as the man went back to the future once the wall was fixed and the corpse was disposed of. Then, Chase noticed something. It was shiny and golden, and lying in the grass right where the bear had tossed them. He touched it, and he was trust through time.

The entire adventure left Chase changed. He had gotten sweet loot from the future, knowledge beyond his peers, and what he believed to be temporal immunity. All of this at once, combined with puberty having its way turned him into sort of a prick. But he didn't care. He had all of the time in the world.

At least, that's what he thought, before he was taken for an inter-dimensional battle to the death.

[Vancho1]

Name: Tzz-Brzorn

Gender: Not Applicable (But use male pronouns)

Color: #330099

Race: Chenjesu

Items/Abilities:

Tzz-Brzorn, as other members of the Chenjesu, can discharge powerful electric blasts. He has been equipped with a hovering platform to facilitate movement, and can receive energy either from light or chemical sources. Chenjesu are also natural radio transmitters/receivers, providing a sort of telepathic ability.

Description:

Tzz-Brzorn is a roughly three-foot tall blue-purple crystal, attached to a floating platform. A control interface, powered by electrical discharges, is stationed right in front of him on the hoverboard.

He is a bit of a pacifist, which is normal for the race. His years as a starship captain have given Tzz-Brzorn a wide understanding of the universe, which reflects itself in communications. However, when angered, he does not hold back, and electricity sparks around.

Biography:

As one of the first Chenjesu to sense the encroaching Ur-Quan, Tzz-Bzorn immediately began training to man the Broodhome starships in an attempt to battle the slavers. The Ur-Quan were initially pushed back, and a few short years of peace ensued as they enslaved other nearby races.

The Chenjesu did not waste that time, though. Diplomats were dispatched, including Tzz-Bzorn and soon, the Alliance of Free Stars was formed.

The Ur-Quan conflict stretched out until, one day, a huge ship approached the Chenjesu line....

Tzz-Bzorn was commanding a Broodhome on that fateful day.

" Look at the size of that thing! The Ur-Quan must be getting desperate!"

Broodhome ships began moving out to engage the enemy, when suddenly, the ship's main weapons fired. Most of the ships were incinerated, and Tzz-Bzorn's was hit.

" Crew! The ship's not going to make it! Go for the escape pods!"

The small shards escaped as the enemy Dreadnoughts moved in to incinerate any remaining resistance with their plasma bolts. Just as Tzz-Bzorn's pod's hyperdrive was charging up, the giant ship's weapon fired once more. It directly hit the pod as it escaped into the eerily red Hyperspace.

All of the lights went dark....

"Is this the end?"

Hyperspace faded around him, as the world turned to black.....

And then another portal opened before the escape pod, and spit it out into a place unknown.

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Wow. I feel like this backstory is really bad and contrived to fit into Star Control II's story line. Well, I guess it'll do. My real rp skills are..... better.

[Phynicxs]

Bleh Ive had this for ages. Ill finish it later.......

Name: Currently goes by the name Desidia, Ignavia, Lorem or Socordia
Gender: none
Color: GREEN
Race: Parasitic Entity, Spirit, Ancient creature of apathy, Apathy god
Items/Abilities:
The ability to relax other people. This is more dangerous than it sounds, her hosts/victims can relax into such a state that they no longer care about what happens to them, their name or anything else. This relaxation is also very addicting, hosts/victims have slaughtered thousands to try and regain the feeling.
This relaxation can affect muscles in the body causing them to stop functioning.
As well as the reverse, to take away the ability to relax. (Although she isn’t as good at this.) This can cause lack of sleep, Hyperactivity, an excited state, paranoia; Muscles can tense up into cramps and such.
These powers have a limited range though.
Possession
Toxic form
(Just look up relaxation or tensing/excitement on the body, there is too much to list)
I suppose if the host has any talents she would have them while she had the host :/
Description:
Although her host is her usual image, without it she can look like a very fine gas/powder. this form can be very toxic, and colour depends on whom she is viewed by.
She has a Limited attention span, when something interests her she will continue after it even at self risk, once she has figured it out/gets bored of it, it is quickly forgotten and she sets out to find something new. As such she changes hosts rather frequently, once every 20-30 years is the average possession span. She is always interested in new and exciting things welcoming the age of science, act, music, technology, sport. She is always interested in progress.
Although she picked her hosts with wild abandon within the first few centuries He later started selecting hosts based on how happy they were, and what the possibility of having a for filling life was for them.
He also has a high interest in stories, mainly ones about brave and noble warriors.
Biography:
The feet of many people sounded from the streets below as Socordia Jumped across the roof tops. It was Amazing, Indescribable. He was flying through the city, riding off the euphoria of his host. It was a fantastic happening; he had started to slowly pull back his power from his host to prevent a sudden withdrawal later on, at first nothing happened but soon he noticed flickers of emotions from his host. Those emotions soon grew, into wonder and delight. It was powerful and new! These emotions, made by others were different from His own, Exquisite.
“Get back Here You Damn Rat!”
“Ah, Mr Captain of the guard, Chasing Criminals again? Make sure you catch them this time! We all know how your last escapade went. Didn’t you fall into an open pig trough?”
“Be quiet you!”
The captain of the guard, Strong, driven, heroic, the perfect match to a great thief. It was lucky that Socordia just so happened to be that thief.
“Today I’ll catch you, You Bloody thief!”
“Why Mr. Captain That’s a very noble goal! Can you keep up however?”
Socordia Flung himself over heads of the crowds in the street. Grabbing a post and swinging him round it, landing into a Heavy sprint. After a quick left, Socordia Dashed inside one of the abandoned alleyways behind the main streets.
“Hey Pip!”
“Scoro! Man that was so cool! You were like all “whoosh” and he was all like ‘get back here’ but you were like “nu-uh” Then You Jumped Over like, The Whole street!”
“Pip I must have taken too long! You’re delirious from lack of food! Catch!”
Socordia tossed the loaves of bread cheese and fruit at Pip. Clapping when he expertly caught them.
“That was so cool! You have to come back to the base and show me how to do that!”
“No can do Pip, I’m going to pick up a few things and mess about with our dear captain of the guard.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? What If you get caught?”
“Me? Get Caught?” He scoffed, “I’ll Be fine I’ll make it back before sundown or my name isn’t Lorem Desidia Ignavia De Socordia.”
“You have a long name Phlegm.”
“Hey!”
“You better show me that move when you get back okay!”
“Count on it!” Socordia sneaked up the alleyway Looking carefully For the Guards and their captain. He saw the captain irritably looking around for him. Socordia smirked and Started down the crowded street towards the market stalls, what did he want to pick up today? He slipped a bag off a stand, and pulled things from various stalls into the bag. A few bits of food here, some fabric there, he even snagged a knife with a jewel encrusted handle from a fine crafts stall. Really just don’t stop in front of the stalls, don’t make eye contact, and you can get away with anything. Socordia had just grabbed a hooded cloak from another stall when the fine craft stall owner started to shout. Socordia walked nonchalantly over to join the crowd looking towards the infuriated stallowner He was complaining about his stolen item to the captain of the guard.

And I kept switching between male and female deal with it.

[Whimbrel]

RESERVED WORKING ON IT/DONE? GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH

Name: The Herald of the Nelumweald No, I'm Tesni.
Gender: Female
Color: #040040 on #9BFF9B
Race: Humanesque

OH GOD I AM NOT GOOD WITH PROFILES HOW DOES THIS GO:There once was a young lady who made the mistake of befriending a forest.

It did not seem in the least threatening when she first discovered it; a small stand of trees only just beginning to have a sense of identity. It was so relaxing to hide there, away from the mundane unpleasantries of her life, and the little forest made for a surprisingly good audience to pour out her thoughts; more attentive even than the little cat back home.

The forest adored her, and wished she would stay and speak with it forever, or that it could speak back. Yet, the day would inevitably wane, and she would leave, and it could not keep her. It was a very young forest, and the most it could do was make itself as relaxing and inviting as possible. After it had worked on this technique for quite some time, it finally succeeded.

The sun was setting, yet the girl felt no need to return home just yet. Her mattress at home was stuffed with straw, yet the moss here felt softer than her dreams of goose-down, and as supportive as a mother's arms. Yes, there were tales told to children to warn them of forests, but they were just that: stories. She knew this forest, they were friends, and it would allow no harm to come to her. And so she slept; the first dreamer of the Nelumweald.

And there, in the dream, the forest and the young lady wove stories together. Stories of far-off lands and strange people, of darkness and of light, of forests and of cities--stories that always ended well, with far more gained than lost. But the forest was still young, and still could not hold the girl forever. She awoke, eventually, and left, again, though with a promise to return.

The girl did not return that day, nor the day after. The forest spent its time preparing for her, cultivating a more soothing atmosphere, a more inviting aura. It began to amass quite a number of dreamers, animals passing through that decided to stay, and then to sleep. The woods found that each dreamer allowed it to grow, slightly. Not in the way of trees (They were quite capable of that on their own), but similar to the way of a country, silently expanding its borders.

After quite some time the ever-growing forest of dreams came to a fairly clear patch of land, and found on it burnt structures and charred bones; but not finding its friend there, the forest thought little of it, and continued on its way.

----

Memories fade, even those of forests, and so it was that three years later, the Nelumweald decided that it had found its friend, despite her protests to the contrary.

It could not remember her name (I'm Tesni), and the one she insisted on was simply wrong, so it dubbed her the Herald. It recalled the far-off places she had wanted to visit (that wasn't me) and so it decided to bring her to them (can I have my body back please).

The Nelumweald remembered how sad it was each time she would walk away, and so it resolved to never let her go again. It was strong now, it could protect her even more than before. It would not even let her vanish as mysteriously as the dreamers in it's domain were prone to doing (that's called starving. they're not supposed to sleep forever).

Yes, together forever with its friend. How wonderful! (I hate you)


(Thank you Pharms!)

[Phynicxs]

We have seven whens #8 going to show up?