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@Koshka OKAY soooo that would actually still be cool even in human form ROFL maybe just tone it down XD XD XD
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebOHHHH MY GOSH KP IS WORSE THAN STORY EMBERS! THAT’S TWO POSTS IN ONE NIGHT!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Ohhh well
Hold on I’M WORKING ON IT XD
I was one way, and now I am completely different. And the thing that happened in between was Him.
@koshka also totally waiting (totally not impatient….that was sarcasm btw) for them to get to November….XD) Or am I supposed to introduce them….
EHHHH….Why don’t U introduce them…and I’ll come in and we’ll roll with it XD. Just know November’s probs gonna be like O.O and freak especially if they come in all swords drawn ready for battle ROFL
My poor November XD XD
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebAccctualllyyy I take that back I’m going to sleep and I will REPOST IN THE MORNING *glares pointedly at KP*
I was one way, and now I am completely different. And the thing that happened in between was Him.
When Kilied thought of Viktor as an innocent young boy, it made my mind spin with ideas.
Viktor is so broken and yet so healed. His is the story of how
“Your fears were given you to teach you courage,
Your brokeness so you could know healing
Come, my son, it’s time to remember Who our Shepherd is.”
Uh, random quote from my book unwritten. 😉
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@elishavet-pidyon this is why role-playing is AWESOME
But I feel ya, having those moments as a writer is so AMAZING
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebALSO YALL….Other then @emilysf character who hasn’t had a scene….Ara is the only girl in the castle and it kinda cracks me up XD
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebHe thinks he’s 13, having but one year before the monumental year of 14, in which he is considered an adult, (although, yes people understand he’s a young adult, and treat him likewise.)
He’s actually 14, but that will only be important later in the book, so yeah, he’d say 13.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
@elishavet-pidyon K thx!
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSeb@denali-christianson I know u went to bed XD, but that used to happen to me. it doesn’t happen to me as often tho so hopefully it’s just a fluke thing rn.
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebZlatan and Vulkasin
The brothers strode down the hall, swords drawn, shields ready. Whoever had dragged them who knew how far to lock them up in a closet, not even the dignity a real cell, had much explaining to do.
Vulkasin gripped the handle and pulled. This door swung open with the ease of a well mannered fox. Zlatan held his shield up against any surprise guard and sprang inside.
A boy screamed.
This hall had once been an armory. Now it was a disaster. So many weapons littered the floor Zlatan almost didn’t see the terrified cause of the mayhem.
“Oy, lad! Are you a servant ‘ere?”
The boy was staring at him with a face whiter than the lady of the night at high Summer. He looked young, only a few years younger than Zlatan himself.
Perhaps he should try a gentler approach. “Stand gaurd ‘ere, Vulk. Its just a lad.” Zlatan sheathed blade and slung his shield back into place. “I’m Zlatan, son of Vratislav. Vats your name?”
First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
November
The door burst opened. November screamed.
Not one of his finer moments, but considering the fact that the two strangers had what looked to be extremely sharp swords aimed directly at him gave him amble reason to cry out. He scrambled back, the knight arm around him clattering as he stood and backed into a wall, knocking more things over.
Of course…
The two glanced at each other and then back at him, their swords still drawn, though they didn’t seem intent on using them on November, which he was grateful for.
“Oy, lad! Are you a servant ‘ere?” One of them spoke, the shorter one with dark hair. November opened his mouth but no words formed. He quirked a brow in confusion. Servant? His brain scrambled for a reply. The two figures sheathed their swords and looked at one another again.
The dark-haired one spoke, “Stand gaurd ‘ere, Vulk. Its just a lad.” The taller one, with lighter hair nodded subtly and obeyed. The other one seemed to size November up as he said, “I’m Zlatan, son of Vratislav. Vats your name?”
November swallowed, color returning to his face. He tugged at his hair and sucked in a breath.
And then…the words poured out like a faucet.
“OKAY, so I’m super sorry about your armory and weapons and that suit of armor,” he pointed to the metal that lay at his feet, “but I promise, I didn’t mean to do any of this. I don’t even know where I am! But I promise I didn’t mean to destroy your stuff…” his voice faded as he took in the amount of damage he’d done to the once pristine room. He gulped. “Although…it does kinda look that way, doesn’t it?”
Zlatan stared at him, one brow cocked.
“Point is!” November said quickly, “I..ah, really didn’t mean to do any of this. It just kinda…happens.” He winced, remembering multiple other times when events just like this one had happened. The only difference was, it hadn’t been two strangers’ wrath he was facing. “So…if you could…not mention this? Or…umm…not lock me away for all eternity?” He smiled jokingly but it didn’t reach his eyes. Inside his nerves were shot.
Who were these people?! He’d never seen them in A’Grend before! And…this castle was not Ara’s. Which meant it was someone else’s. Which meant it was possibly their’s. And he’d destroyed their armory.
Great job November…
“OH!” November exclaimed, making Zlatan tense and his hand wavered over his sword. November tensed, “Ah, I, umm, just remembered…You asked my name…heh. It’s November. My name’s November.”
And with that, he continued to tug at his curls.
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSebALSO YALL….Other then @emilysfcharacter who hasn’t had a scene….Ara is the only girl in the castle and it kinda cracks me up XD
Uh, yeah, sorry about not posting yet. I went to and then realized I literally knew nothing about my character, like really, so I’ve been figuring her out a bit more.
*continues furiously typing out the summary of her character I’ve managed to get together*
"[Write] today like there's no tomorrow!"
@denali-christianson Yeah, now you see why I hate Rampart. (Smacks him several times also) But yeah, the hero character in this show’s case–Hunter–I could talk for miles about him. He’s just plain awesome. As are his siblings (four brothers and one sister, although one brother turns evil).
Where'd I get ya this time? The liver? The kidney? I'm runnin' outta places to put holes in ya.
Zlatan
The lad was obviously in an emotional breakdown. He was pulling his hair and jabbering.
“Point is, I..ah, really didn’t mean to do any of this! It just kinda…happens.” the lad grimaced. “So…if you could…not mention this? Or…umm…not lock me away for all eternity?” He smiled but his eyes were still terrified.
Zlatan had no idea what to do. It had been a long time since he had worked with children, but he thought he had changed since then. This boy however seemed just as afraid of him as the children of the prisoners had been. He shuddered. It should be Vulkasin doing this, but then his size usually created more problems.
The lad suddenly cried out, causing Zlatan’s hand to fly for his sword. Ugh, he preferred a good spear or pike.
“Ah, I, umm, just remembered…You asked my name…heh. It’s November. My name’s November.”
Oh, the lad had just remembered his name. “Novembré?” Strange sounding name, like those of the Minor South Kingdoms. Zlatan offered a smile. “Vell, zis armory doesn’t belong to me, but if ze owner is te goat head I zink he is I’ll help you smash ze rest of his castle.” He released a quiet laugh and walked to the window. Slipping off his helmet, Zlatan peered out, enjoying the faint breeze. “You could do a pretty good job of it, if you v’anted to.”
The lad seemed rather. kerfluffled.
Vulkasin
Vulkasin stood just outside the door, shield up and sword in hand, sentry position. Though he would rather a pike and dagger he was comfortable enough for the first time in hours. Or days. How long had they been here?
A faint cry echoed down the hall…but he couldn’t catch the words. A moment later it came again, this time more desperate. He stared in the direction it had come for a long minute, wondering what he should do.
A girl rounded a corner, her eyes wide. Halfway down the corridor they got even wider: she must have seen him.
First Grand Historian of Arreth and the Lesser Realms (aka Kitty)
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