since for the past year or so i’ve been struggling with anxiety and major depression, i haven’t had the motivation to do much at all let alone work on my stories.
but i started taking these herbal pills and they seem to be helping quite a bit. which is great, because i’m becoming motivated again. i’m taking a look at my stories for the first time in a while. hopefully i can work on them a bit while my motivation is still... around.
In this masterlist it will include all types of questionnaires for character development. This can be really helpful as you are creating an oc rp or if you really just need to flesh out your character. I really hope that this is helpful to y’all. Enjoy!
i don’t understand why people don’t instantly respond to “what would your dream superpower be” with the ability to manipulate probability.
think about it. what’s the chance someone will drop 1mil in front of me? 0%? let’s make that 100%. what’s the probability i’ll wake up tomorrow and be X gender? 100%. what’s the probability my bathtub is filled with mac and cheese? 100%.
IDK IF YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS WEBSITE YET, BUT I DON’T EVEN CARE IF YOU DO.
CHARAHUB BASICALLY ALLOWS YOU TO MAKE A DIRECTORY OF ALL YOUR OCS.
LIKE SO
AND SO (they let you get super detailed)
It lets you store 100 characters (you gain 2 extra slots whenever someone uses your referral code) and 10 images per character. You can even make GROUPS to organize them a little more– per RP or something. Image files can’t be too big either.
BUT if you want more file size, more character slots, and more other stuff, you can get a subscription! Don’t worry, subscriptions are super hella cheap (take notes, deviantART)!
The crowd of students grew antsy, casting glances around the room and waiting for someone to make a move. Randy leaned over to Howard and whispered, “I can’t do anything with this many people around, not without revealing myself, and that’s not happening.” Howard bit his lip and struggled to find a solution. This was one of the most elaborate plans McFist had come up with. It was uncharted territory, and Randy was at a loss, but he knew he needed to get these people out of danger as soon as possible. They were all his responsibility— if anyone got hurt, it would be on him. Revealing himself would be the fastest way to get them to safety…
But that was out of the question. He couldn’t. Exposing his real identity would mean game over for sure. Not only would McFist know, but the entire school as well. No doubt the news would spread until all of Norrisville knew. This wasn’t some fantasy world where pulling an Iron Man would work out for him. He didn’t have millions of dollars and his own skyscraper to hide inside. He was stuck. If he tried sneaking under the table now to put on his mask, people would notice. He would be the only one moving a muscle and they were packed like sardines. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart and the screeching of the wind outside. McFist’s words echoed in his head, taunting him. Tick tock tick tock tick tock what do I do damn it what do I do tick tock tick tock…
Then Howard discreetly nudged his side and pulled him down to whisper in his ear, “I got it! What if a bunch of people stood up all saying they were the Ninja? It would be loud and distracting enough, right?” He suggested. Randy shivered as Howard’s words ghosted over his ear and let out a breath, feeling idiotic. It was times like these when he was really glad he didn’t listen to the Nomicon about keeping his secret from Howard.
“Yeah, that’s perfect, let’s get on that.”
Howard turned to whisper into a kid’s ear who then turned and passed the plan on to another kid. Randy and Howard watched as it spread through the room. There was a low hum as the students murmured worriedly to each other. The storm raged on outside.
All of a sudden, Howard sprung up onto the table screaming, “Hey, you giant shoobs! You want me, here I am! I’m the Ninja!”
Silence. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Howard and nobody dared even blink. Several long seconds passed and Randy felt like he forgot that his lungs required air to function. Everyone chickened out, oh god the plan failed and now Howard is in trouble and I’m trapped, I can’t DO anything! But then time sputtered and moved again; seemingly all at once a hundred other kids leapt up, all shouting. Randy grasped Howard's arm and nodded his thanks, his face still burning and his heart still beating a hundred beats a minute. He glanced around at all the attention not focused on him. The robo-apes were busy handling the mass of yelling kids and the kids themselves were too engrossed in their rebellion to notice as he disappeared under the table and emerged as the Ninja. He flung his scarf towards a light fixture and in a move that any traditional ‘keep to the shadows’ ninja would facepalm at, pulled himself above the mass of students with a somewhat graceful flip. They cheered and clapped at his arrival, and he somehow found a way to bow upside down in midair.
“I’m pretty sure you’re looking for me, actually!”
Randy launched himself at the nearest robo-ape. He kicked it to the ground in one fell swoop and slipped out of the crowded cafeteria with ease. He almost pulled out his sword and sliced it in two, but decided against it. If he destroyed it, everyone trapped inside would take the chance to escape and flood the halls. It would be easier for him if they stayed in the room and out of his way until he fixed this. Howard, the second Randy jumped above the crowd, had shoved his way to the door with surprising speed, making it out just as the ape pulled itself back onto its feet. They rounded the corner and ducked into a dark classroom.
“Since when can McFist control the damn weather?” Howard threw his arms up in the air incredulously. “This is so wonk. I was going to go home and beat Grave Puncher VI on expert! I’m on the last level! Do you know how long it takes to get to the last level? FOR. EVER.”
“Howard, focus. Your GPVI skills are epic, but we have to figure out how to stop the storm. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get out of here.”
“This better be fast, Cunningham, my time is valuable.” Howard grumped.
“Sure, buddy.” They made their way down the hall, checking all the rooms for anything suspicious. “Okay, the question is, how is he doing it? How do you control the weather?”
“Viceroy probably built some kind of super-bruce invention. It’s always Viceroy, Cunningham.”
“True. It is almost a given at this point,” Randy crossed his arms as they emerged from another room that turned up empty. Randy wished he had paid more attention in Science.
“Ugh, we’re getting nowhere with this,” Howard griped, “We’re just wandering around the school being useless!” His voice echoed through the halls. Just as Randy turned to shush him, the girls bathroom door creaked open and he immediately jumped between it and Howard, sword drawn and ready to defend.
“Heidi?” Howard pushed Randy out of the way as his sister emerged from behind the door.
“Howard? Ninja!”
“Oh.” Randy lowered his sword in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” Howard asked.
“I hid in here when I heard the principal’s announcement. I wanted to get some good footage of the storm,” she indicated to the camera hanging from a strap over her shoulder, “Ralph was too scared to come with me, so I thought I’d just film it myself. Then that other voice came on and now these robot apes are walking around, like, patrolling the halls.” She turned the camera on and pointed it at Randy, not missing a beat, news persona automatically taking control.
“So, Ninja! You have a plan don’t you? How are you going to save Norrisville High this time? How can you fight a hurricane?”
“Uh…” Randy squirmed uncomfortably at the questions, not having an answer.
“Heidi, come on. Stop interrogating him.”
“Okay then, how about you tell me the plan, Howard. What are you doing out here with the Ninja? Do you guys work together, like as hero and sidekick? You sounded familiar with each other.” Heidi had a thought and gasped, “Do you know who the Ninja is?”
A small clunk drew Randy’s attention to the corner down the hall. He squinted his eyes and listened hard.
“Heidi! This is so wonk, put the camera down.”
“Absolutely not. Come on, give me something I can—” she was cut off by Randy shoving them both back into the bathroom without warning. Heidi and Howard squeaked out noises of protest, but Randy shushed them, a hand over their mouths.
“Robo-apes. Stay here!” he hissed. They froze. Howard’s face heated in what he assumed was adrenaline or annoyance as he swatted the hand away. Heavy footsteps echoed through the halls, eerily silent with no students in them. Howard and Heidi- along with her camera- stuck their heads through the door. With narrowed eyes, Randy drew his sword and took a stance, completely still as he waited for the ape to round the corner. After several long and drawn out seconds, the thing finally emerged.
“Let’s go, monkey bu— okay, you are not a robo-ape,” Randy balked.
A large robotic samurai warrior stood at the opposite end of the hall with thick arms and legs and a sword that probably weighed as much as Randy himself clasped in its giant hand. Its design was all sharp edges and angles; hard, metal and mean. It zeroed in on Randy, raised its sword, and dashed forward with such speed that should have been impossible for a thing of its size. Randy barely raised his sword in time to block the swing, and when the swords collided, Randy was pushed back several feet.
“Oh, now this is more like it!” He laughed, deflecting its blade.
Legs planted firmly, the steel behemoth’s top half whirled around to swing at Randy’s other side, but he nimbly ducked out of the way and countered with a slash at its knees. The sword clanged right off the kneecaps and Randy was momentarily taken aback. Not much was strong enough to deflect his blade. The samurai kicked out at Randy and flung him several feet down the hall through the air and he landed hard on his back.
******** ADD MORE FIGHT HERE
“Howard?” Randy called out, “what weakens steel?”
“Uhhh, extreme heat? And rust!”
Randy thought fast. Rust would probably work better, but it would be impossible to get the steel to rust that fast. His only option was to use heat. So what did he have that could achieve that? An idea came into his head and he pulled out a couple of Ninja balls, tossing them at the samurai with a shout of “Ninja Oil Balls!”
They popped open like water balloons, dumping deep black oil all over the samurai and spilling onto the floor around it. It tried to take a step towards him but slipped and fell, and Randy took the chance to fling more Ninja balls at it. “Ninja Fire Balls!”
The oil ignited all at once, in a flash of light. It burned hot, Randy could feel it even though he was several feet away. The samurai rose to its feet shakily, whirring and creaking. It stepped toward Randy one more time, but Randy leapt forwards and swung his trusty sword in a large swooping arc. A long, vertical cut tore the metal samurai right in half. It shuddered and groaned a few times, then both halves limply fell to the ground back into the flames. Panting and sore, the Ninja pulled out one more Ninja ball and tiredly tossed it over the burning oil. Sand erupted out of it and smothered the fire.
God only knows why Howard decided one in the morning on a Tuesday night was a good time to call Randy, waking him out of a half-sleep. Randy didn’t even get annoyed anymore, he’d long since gotten used to Howard’s antics- it took a lot to surprise him when it came to his best friend. He lifted the phone sluggishly to his ear, coughing to clear the grogginess from his throat.
“Yeah?”
“Cunningham, how is it that you think Grave Puncher IV is better than Grave Puncher II? Because I’m playing IV right now and I just can’t see it.” Randy let loose a huge yawn, staring blankly into the darkness of his room. They’d been having this discussion while pointedly not listening in Science class that day. Howard was very opinionated about GPII.
“We went over this already. It’s more fun.”
“Umm, how exactly?”
“Harder levels, better mechanics—”
“These levels are not hard.”
“That’s because you cheat.”
“Pff, whatever, Cunningham. I’m starting to think you wouldn’t know a good game if it came up and bit you in your bony ass.”
“Howard!” Randy gasped in tired, mock horror, “My ass is not bony, how dare you.”
An hour passed like this, them arguing back and forth about video games, and Randy was hopelessly awake again with no chance of falling back asleep any time soon.
“You know what I noticed? Besides the first Ninja, I’m the only one that has had to work this hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, usually, the Ninja only has to deal with the Sorcerer and his stank, but I have to hold off McFist, too.”
“Pff, like that’s even a lot of work. McFist's plans are always complete donk.”
“And how would you know? Do you have to deal with all of this crap, too?”
“I live vicariously through you, Cunningham. Duh.”
“Sure, buddy. But seriously, it’s tiring.”
Howard snorted.
“It is! I mean, yeah, it’s mostly just robo-apes and your standard stanked students thanks to the Sorcerer- and I can barely take those things seriously anymore- but it all adds up to major exhaustion. Man, McFist really needs to stop sending those apes, they’re so useless.”
“Yeah, but at least you don’t suck as much as you did freshman year.”
“Come on, I was new!”
Randy listened as Howard scoffed and then yawned obnoxiously, and fought back one of his own. Sufficiently tired, Howard sighed a goodbye to Randy.
“Ok. ‘Night.” Randy chuckled, and tossed his phone onto the nightstand, a sleepy grin plastered on his face. Even though he would pretty much be a zombie at school, he wasn’t really mad at Howard. They’d been best friends for longer than he dared to calculate, and friends like that come with exceptions. Randy sighed and figured he should set up a game of Grave Puncher IV to occupy himself before it was time to get ready for school.
***
“Holy crap, you look dead.”
“Gee, I wonder whose fault that is,” Randy raised his eyebrows at Howard, “I couldn’t fall back asleep after you called me. I got maybe three hours last night.”
“Oh come on, don’t be such a shoob. You’ve gotten less before.”
“Yeah, but seeing as I’ve been the school’s local hero for two and a half years, I need my beauty sleep. I mean, don’t get me wrong, being the Ninja is the absolute cheese, but I just want a day off. Hopefully, I won’t have to deal with anything toda—”
Randy was cut off by a sudden blow knocking him into the lockers. A robo-ape looked down at him and let out a metallic grunt before it leapt down the halls smashing against lockers, flinging students left and right, and just wreaking utter havoc. “Well, there goes my peaceful day off,” Randy sighed in defeat. Howard watched with disinterest as the robo-ape ripped a classroom door off the hinges and flung it down the hall. He gave Randy a nonchalant shrug and a farewell pat on the back, jumping over the rubble littering the floor and whistling as he made his way to class. Randy rolled his eyes in irritation. At least it was only one ape, he could deal with this pretty quickly. He turned in the opposite direction to duck into a stall in the boy’s bathroom, donning his ninja mask. Red tendrils wrapped around him, lifting him into the air in a flash of light as the rest of his suit materialized over the rest of his body to fit him perfectly. He stepped into a shadowy corner, closing his eyes to concentrate. This was a new skill; the Nomicon had only taught it to him a week before. “Now’s as good a time as any to practice,” he mumbled.
Slowly, he let himself become one with the shadows. They lapped at his heels, grasping, softly pulling him into the darkness. They whispered to him, telling him all they knew. He listened intently and reached out with his mind to find his target. Any shadows that existed in the school were his to utilize; they bent to his will and allowed him to hear and see what they heard and saw. By brushing his conscious against someone else’s shadow, he could even get a sense of who they were and what they were feeling. Most of the kids in the classrooms next to the bathroom felt only the numbness of boredom or the tingling of pent up sexual frustration. No fear here, the ape hadn't terrorized this part of the school. Randy moved on, reaching out further. There. The fear. It sent little tendrils of shockwaves up his spine. The poor kid, a freshman, had just transferred to Norrisvlle High and got lost on his way to Spanish class but ended up confused, running and screaming away from a robo-ape, convinced he was going to die. Randy raised an eyebrow and followed the feeling down the halls, jumping from person to person, when suddenly he felt the cold, odd sensation he was looking for. The robo-ape’s shadow was foreign, belonging to an artificial intelligence that had no emotion but couldn’t be classified as completely dead either. The best way Randy could think to describe it was ‘unnatural’. Or maybe 'fake' was a better word.
“Gotcha,” he uttered triumphantly under his breath, “but now for the hard part.” Randy locked onto the robo-ape’s shadow and, with a huge burst of energy and exertion, pulled his physical self through the darkness. At the last second, he drew his blade and burst out of the robo-ape’s shadow behind it, slicing it in half in an instant. He bellowed a quick “NINJA SHADOW SLICE” for good measure. “Ahaha, yes! That was so bruce!” The Ninja fist pumped, but the complicated new technique had left him out of breath. “Whoo, I really can’t use that too often though, can I? It takes up way too much energy,” he remarked. His body had been completely fatigued and was aching for some rest. “On second thought, I was tired enough already, why the heck did I do that?” He groaned. The few kids that were still in the hall to witness his awesomeness cheered, and Randy took a moment to wave and bow. He smokebombed back to the bathroom while contemplating his tendency to make bad choices, making it to History class just in time to sleep through a pop quiz.
***
The shrill shriek of the bell brought Randy back to the land of the living. Mr. Walker’s gloomy eyes followed him out of the classroom like one of those creepy paintings that hang in haunted houses. Randy shivered. Maybe sleeping through Walker's class wasn't such a good idea. He had a feeling he'd regret it later. But at least his next class, Science, was one he shared with Howard. He blinked the tired away from his eyes and sat down.
“Hey, Howard,” Randy greeted. Howard slung his backpack onto the desk carelessly and there was a small thunk as a beaker was knocked over the edge.
“Ah shi-” Howard began, but sighed with relief when Randy’s hand shot out to catch it, “Bless you and your ninja reflexes, dude.”
“Trying to keep that on the down-low there, buddy,” Randy joked, mock-whispering in the almost-empty room. The three other students ignored them, as per usual. “Ugh, but seriously, when is McFist going to start taking me seriously? It’s like he’s throwing kittens at me with these robo-apes he keeps sending. And he’s not even sending that many! This time it was just one.”
“So, what you’re saying is you want to get the crap kicked out of you?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. It’s just… What’s the point of being… the ninja,” he whispered, keeping an eye on the flow of students arriving to class, “if I just feel like..." he floundered for a second in thought, "a bug exterminator?”
It really was amazing how much Randy improved since his freshman year, he mused. Screw being humble, his ninja powers are a force to be reckoned with. Slowly gaining experience with every fight, building a few actual skills instead of relying completely on luck— he felt much more like a capable Ninja. Not that luck still wasn’t a huge factor in his successes, but he was bound to learn something from experience. It was starting to grate on him, though, how mundane his secret life was becoming. He found himself longing for the old days, when every fight was a hard battle to be won, not some pesky extermination job. It really did feel like he was swatting at flies. But like, lots of flies, all the time. So he always ended up being tired from just the sheer amount of enemies instead of an actual challenge. That was what frustrated him most. "This is so not how I imagined it.” Randy muttered to himself.
Thankfully, no other enemies showed up to bother Randy for the rest of the day, and after Science the hours passed in one big blur. Before he knew it, he was stumbling through his bedroom door and collapsing on his bed for some much needed, deep sleep.
***
“Aw, man! My grade dropped down to a D in History,” Randy groaned to Howard through his face-palm. Snoozing through Walker's class yesterday was definitely a bad move.
“Did you do the pop quiz?”
“… I was too busy sleeping through it to do it. My mom is gonna kill me. This is wonk.”
“Yeah, too bad you can’t tell her the reason you’re failing Junior year is because you have to be a hero every time you have a test.”
“No kidding. I have to let her think I’m lazy and irresponsible.”
“…You are lazy and irresponsible.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Fair point.”
The late bell rang and Randy reached down to pull out his notebook when he noticed the faint glow of the Nomicon emanating from his backpack. He immediately shot up and out of the classroom, shouting a quick “Gotta pee!” as the teacher made a strangled noise of protest.
The poor lone kid relieving himself in the bathroom almost sprayed the wall as Randy slammed open the door like a bat out of hell and locked himself in a stall. He heard the kid fumble with his belt before flushing the urinal and scuttering out of the door. 'Gross, he didn't wash his hands.'
"Okay, Nomicon, let’s g- arwh,” the book pulled his mind into the pages. Randy fell through white, fluffy, illustrated clouds and landed clumsily on solid ground. He was surrounded by meticulous depictions of trees and rocks, flowing streams and soaring birds. After a couple years, it would probably be expected that Randy would’ve gotten used to it. But there was something about the atmosphere of the Nomi-world that never ceased to impress, and the feeling he got from walking around in the pages wasn’t unlike a dream. He immediately and gratefully noticed the lack of heavy fatigue that had been weighing him down all day. ‘Can I just live in here?’ He sighed, breaking tranquil silence.
“So, Nomicon, what cryptic message do you have for me today? Long time no see, by the way. How’ve you been?” Randy hopped up onto a large boulder. Directly in front of him, swirling text appeared.
Trouble often seeks out those foolish enough to ask for it.
“Ah I see... Nope, I’ve got no idea what you could possibly mean.” The text flashed angrily. Randy raised an eyebrow. “Been a while, I’ve missed these talks,” his voice dripped with sarcasm. Arrows and underlines appeared on the words for more emphasis. Randy shrugged, still clueless. A pebble hit the back of his head, hard. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep it in mind.” He studied the words above him as his eyes squinted in thought. Had he gone looking for trouble recently? Nothing came to mind. He took care of whatever the Sorcerer and McFist had thrown at him, but he hadn’t tried to rile them up. Maybe it was advice for future reference.
“Is this all you wanted to see me for? Nothing to say about how awesome those moves were earlier? I’ve totally mastered that shadow technique.” There were a few moments of silence, and then Randy got his answer when the light tug of reality pulled him out of the pages and back into consciousness. He huffed and glared down at the ancient Ninja guide in his hands. “Geez, you can be so difficult sometimes. Okay no, most of the time.”
When Randy slipped back into his seat in English class, Howard gave him a questioning look. Randy just waved his hand dismissively. There was no need to ask Howard about the message, and the Nomicon didn’t like it when Randy did that anyway. The messages were ‘his and his alone’ to figure out, so Howard getting involved was like cheating. Randy had to figure this out on his own. He was still pondering when the intercom buzzed and the principal’s shaky voice filled the halls.
“U-uh… students and teachers, it seems we h-have an emergency situation,” he sounded flustered. Randy perked up. Emergencies happened to be his forte. “There’s a hurricane forming over the school, uhh, all students and teachers are to head to th c-cafeteria immediately.”
“What the juice? How is a hurricane forming and we didn’t hear about it before now like, on the news or something? And why the cafeteria? That’s like, the worst place to go,” Howard’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, which seemed to be the collective emotion of the rest of the school as well. But they all followed the principal's instructions, shuffling through the packed halls and into the large open room. With the entire student body and faculty crammed into the barely-big-enough cafeteria, there was an overwhelmingly loud and buzz of chatter. Then, gasps and silence as the power flickered out.
In the lapse of noise, the sound of wind and rumbling thunder filled the room. The hurricane was getting ugly. The lights blinked back on, joined by feedback from the speakers. Then a voice that distinctively did not belong to the principal spoke.
“Hello there, Norrisville High, home of the ever noble Carps. I regretfully announce that you’re trapped here due to a particularly vicious storm... of my making.” It was disguised, but Randy had heard it before. McFist’s voice.
“Rest assured, however, that you will all be completely safe… as soon as the Ninja steps forward. Without the mask.” Howard pressed a hand against Randy’s forearm as they listened, mouths drawn in tight frowns.
“In the meantime, my darling robo-apes will keep you company. But the longer he makes me wait, the worse the storm becomes. Hurricanes are powerful things.” Almost like a demonstration, the storm's thrashing winds hammered against the windows, it almost felt as if the whole building rattled.
Here is the masterlist on everything there is to know when writing bios! There are probably more than 100 links, organized in bio writing, traits, names, faceclaims…Everything!
❆ How to Write
Successfully Write Many Characters - And Keep Them Diverse (rphqueen)
Writing In-depth Characters (keir-reviews)
Guide to: Writing the Perfect Bio (struckby-therphelper)
How to: Making a Great Bio (soatyourservice)
Guide To Writing Character Bios (ellyhelps)
How to: Show a Character’s Personality in 3 Paragraphs (curlyfriesrpc)
Use Archetypes to Create Literary Characters (rphhelp-advice)
Balance Out Your Character Types (psychrph)
How to Write Bios ( adam-and-ian-help)
Need Help With Character Creation? (hermajestyhelps)
How to Create Premades That Are Effective and Have Purpose (fat-amy-rph)
Things to Think About During RPG Character Creation ( errantdreams.com)
How to Make Your Supernatural Characters Unique and Interesting (benedicthelps)
Writing Character Bios (writeworld)
Matt’s Tips → Aspects You Might Be Ignoring When Creating Your Characters (wehelprps)
Creating Believable Characters (thewolf-rph)
How to Write A Good Biography (georgiakincaid)
Biographies (For Dummies) (thetrolliestcritic)
Components of Your Character Biographies (shackleboltrps)
How to show a character personality in 3 paragraphs (rphelper)
How to Write Bios (roleplayrater)
Writing Character Bios (writeworld)
Write a Biography (And Make It Interesting) (rpcgron)
Biographies (For Dummies) (thetrolliestcritic)
Your Bios Could Lose a Few Inches (thegoodwitchrpc)
Canon Character Bios Guide (mean-people-suck-rph)
Create a Cast of Characters That is Interesting and Will Keep Your Plot Moving (rpcgron)
❆ Writing a lot
The Bio Machine (and How to Become One) (critiqualicious)
Writing lots of bios (acciorpc)
Simple tips to get into that “bio monster” mode (irant-rpc)
❆ Template
Character/Bio Writing Template (rptheme-helper)
Bio Skeletons, What & Why (avandalerpg)
Keir’s Favourite Bio Templates (keir-reviews)
Different Bio Format Examples (nayahelps)
Masterlist of Bio Formats (thetrolliestcritic)
❆ Names
Naming Your Characters (reyesrph)
Naming Your Characters (linderwrites)
Nymbler
Tips for Writers on Naming Characters via babynames.com
Baby Names
Our Baby Namer
Baby Name Genie
Name Generator
How to Give Your Character the Perfect Name via Writer’s Digest
Character Name Generator
Random Name Generator
Serendipity
Rum and Monkey
SSA: Top Names of the 1950s
First Names Reference Database
1000 Most Popular Names of the 1950s
100 Most Popular Baby Names
Bey Bey Name Generator
Yafnag
Angel Names
More Angel Names
Royal Baby Name Generator
List of Demon Names
20,000+ Names From Around the World
Fantasy Name Generator
Demon Names
English
Welsh
Scottish and Irish
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Italian
Greek
Victorian Era Names
German
Dutch
Scandinavian
Polish
Naming Your Characters
❆ Personality traits
List of personality traits
100 positive and negative traits (acciorpc)
Positive Personality Traits (prancingloon-rph)
Underused Personalities/Traits (grandehelper)
Character Traits (niallrph)
List strengths & weaknesses
Character Traits Meme
❆ Faceclaims and diversity
The Importance of Diversity in Faceclaims & Demographics (poshhelpers)
RP-Helper’s FC Directory (rphelper)
FCADVISORS: 50 FC’s who can pass as High School Students (14-18)-Male Edition (fcadvisors)
:50 FC’s who can pass as High School Students (14-18)-Female Edition (fcadvisors)
50 who are 19 or younger (acciorpc)
100 FC’s who are 20 or younger (acciorpc)
100+ Males Who Can Pass For High Schoolers (poshhelpers)
100+ Females Who Can Pass for High Schoolers (poshhelpers)
50 Male POC’s who can play teens (acciorpc)
50 Female POC’s who can play teens (acciorpc)
Under 18 Female Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Under 18 Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Black Female Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Black Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Hispanic Female Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Hispanic Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Asian Female Face Claim Masterlist(fchelpers)
Asian Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Native American/First Nations Female Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Native American/First Nations Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Pacific Islander Female Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
Pacific Islander Male Face Claim Masterlist (fchelpers)
❆ Extras:
How To Make Your Roleplay A Safe Space for Trans* People & Characters (thetrolliestcritic)
The Difference Between Personality and Behaviour (starksrph)
Character Building with Tarot (morkierps)
Masterlist of Bio Connections (reyesrph)
How To Write A Bio Based On A Song (allisonroleplays)
How To Determine The Age Of Your Character (rpcgron)
His name originally was GB. I just used those as his initials.
He’s 23
Painter
Demisexual
Born in Montbéliard, France (4 1/2 hours away from Paris by car, 83 hours by foot)
Moved to New York at age 7
When Gabriel was 8 years old he accidentally set his house on fire when he used his abilities for the first time
The fire killed his parents, he blames himself entirely for their death
After the fire, Gabriel was placed in foster care where he started another accidental fire. Nobody was seriously injured, but the woman taking care of him was kind and when he burned her he felt so guilty that he ran away (age 11)
He started living on the streets of NYC
He met Amos, a homeless man who lost everything due to a gambling addiction. Slowly, Amos earned his trust.
He helped him with his English and became a sort of father figure to him
One day, some people with knives cornered Amos and Gabriel. They accused Amos of stealing their money (gambling game gone wrong, Amos was innocent). Amos died protecting Gabriel, and Gabriel unleashed his powers in anger. It was the first time he’d used them since that incident at the foster home.
All four of the men were severely burned, three died.
Since in my creative writing class I didn't give the protagonist of my Hedevära story a gender or name, I know nothing about what they look like. Do they have brown hair or blonde? Blue eyes or green? No idea. I think in my head I see their hair as brown. And when I play out the scenes I've written, they're male. I don't know if I'm going to rewrite the things I've written to reflect this or not. I wrote it in first person to make it easier on myself to keep those things out of the story, but I don't really like first person. Well, maybe it's just that I don't like first person fanfics.
First Sonzai: Skin is lit up with roots and alpha tattoo. He gives off a faint glow, like a candle. Power increases.
Second Sonzai: Skin gets extremely hot, more tats appear. Heat refraction. Power increases.
Third Sonzai: Last tattoo on waist, able to somewhat control lighting. Power increases.
Fourth Sonzai: Starts to smoke, clothes slowly burn. Draws more strength from electric things near him. Power increases.
Fifth Sonzai: Objects melt/burn around him because he’s giving off so much heat. Electricity dances across his skin, if touched, electrocutes them. Power increases.
Sixth Sonzai: Strength is increased tremendously, becomes even more powerful. Complete control of lightning.
Dae
First Sonzai: Body glows a soft light blue – Looks as if he’s underwater. Eyes glow light blue. Power increases.
Second Sonzai: Windows/glass is coated with condensation, humidity. Power increases.
Third Sonzai: Air around him gets colder, able to see his breath. Power increases.
Fourth Sonzai: Fog encases area around him. Things previously covered with condensation start to freeze over. Power increases.
Fifth Sonzai: Begins to rain and hail heavily. Power increases.
Jason
First Sonzai: Rocks and pebbles float around him. Power increases.
Second Sonzai: Able to control plants/ speed up their growth process to seconds. Power increases.
Third Sonzai: Can plant a seed in someones body, then cause it to erupt in growth, piercing all vital parts of body. Plants grow/crack buildings/concrete. Power increases.
Fourth Sonzai: Able to make plants/trees appear out of the ground, earth and concrete shift and crumble as he passes. Power increases.
Rexanne
First Sonzai: Air whips around her like a storm, little mini- tornadoes appear/disappear at random, leaving destruction in her wake. Power increases.
Second Sonzai: Her ability to control air molecules increases and can create vacuums by forcing all air out of a certain space. Power increases.
Omega
First Sonzai: Can take control of someone by becoming their shadow, can travel in a cloud of blackness. Power increases.
Second Sonzai Anything he touches is stained with a poisonous black ink-like substance. Draws shadows in as strength. Power increases.
Third Sonzai: When he exhales, the air is poisonous; plants near him wilt and die. Power increases. Fourth Sonzai: A miasma gathers near/around him. Power increases.
Fifth Sonzai: Becomes as shadow. Previously, he’s been a solid object, but now, if you were to punch him, your hand would connect with nothing, like punching a cloud or smoke. Power increases.
Sixth Sonzai: Strength is increased tremendously, becomes even more powerful.
The rain lashed the skies viscously as Nik stepped out of the café. The anger held within his chest threatened to boil over and he pulled his coat tighter. The day had not gone well. Other than waking up late and horrible traffic, his boss had been pissy, and for a short time the AC had broken. The possibility of the rest of the day looking up was extremely slim because Nik hated storms. He walked to his car and attempted to ward off the cold. The door creaked in protest as it was hurriedly pulled open, and Nik slid into the seat. Even though the car was old and basically junk, Nik kept it immaculately clean. He reached in his pocket for the keys. Turning the ignition, the engine guttered unceremoniously and Nik bit his lip in frustration. Life fled the useless machine, and a cold wind rushed outside, leaking in through invisible cracks. Mournful sighing shook the world and the rain came in hateful sheets. Nik sighed. It was one of those days. Stepping outside, he went to sit in the café, but hung his head in defeat as he discovered the door had locked behind him. The aggravation threatened to take over. He returned to his car to escape the rain only to find that he had locked his keys inside. Things were not going his way.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. This day could not possibly get any worse. Abandoning his useless trash heap of a car, Nik took off running for the closest means of shelter.
He eventually took refuge under an overhanging entrance to a nearby apartment building. He tried the door, a sticky and cracked red affair, but you could only enter if you were buzzed in. Shivering, soaked and out of breath, he cursed his bad luck. The rough wind whipped his dripping wet hair into his face, and the heavy rain was pelting the roads deafeningly. The stone gray pavement was freezing, but Nik felt as if his legs were going to snap if he didn’t sit down. Taking a seat, he resigned himself to a night of cold and wet loneliness.
Just then, the old faded red door to the building swung open, and a man stepped out. He was a little taller than most, with shiny, smoke gray hair that fell into a planned randomness across his eyes. He looked about 19, the color of his hair not adding any age to him at all. His eyes were an oddity, as at first glance being an unusual brown, but when subjected to scrutiny, held a deeper, more lively and charred red. The man was pulling on a dark brown jacket with tan fur around the collar over a light green shirt, holding a cigarette in his mouth. The bottoms of his dark jeans were splashed in water as he stepped barefoot into a puddle, but he didn’t seem to care. Suddenly noticing Nik’s presence, he turned his head to observe his uninvited guest, exposing the other side of his face. Under his left eye ran two parallel scars, dark and long, yet neat and clean, and above them on his eyebrow, two golden piercings that winked in the twilight wickedly. Nik quickly turned his head, embarrassed to be caught staring; it wasn't his usual habit to stare at all. He watched the man light his cigarette out of the corner of his eye, but, to his confusion, saw no lighter. The two men stood in a shared silence, both watching the angry rain and wind terrorize the streets. Nik stole a glance at his neighbor, wondering why his hair was gray. It was an unusual preference, but it fit him, somehow.
The gray haired man finished off his cigarette, dropped it to the floor into a puddle and turned to escape from the weather into the welcoming heat of the apartment building. He was stopped before he could close the door. “Hey, do you think you could help me out here? I’m freezing my butt off, and I can’t go anywhere in this weather on foot,” Nik asked as politely as he could, shivering. The man stared at him, taking in his pitiful state, and nodded somewhat reluctantly, holding the door open for him. Nik smiled gratefully and stepped into the building, relishing in the warmth that enveloped him. The gray haired man brushed past him and headed for the stairs, bare feet softly padding the dust and dirt that clung to the floor and feet of walkers with a desperate tendency, which made the hairs on the back of Nik’s neck stand on end. They silently scaled five stories before the man stopped abruptly, nearly causing Nik to bump into him. Pulling a key out of his pocket, the man unlocked a padlock attached to a wall. Then, sliding a newly noticeable panel that extended from ceiling to floor and hinged on steel tracks that ran for five feet in either direction, he exposed his apartment. Without acknowledgment, the man stepped through the threshold, swallowed by darkness, and left the door open, as if the extent of his kindness went as far as him showing Nik the doorway and thus the comfort he wouldn’t have for some time.
Awkwardly, Nik stuck his head through the door, looking for a reason to stay for a bit longer out of the frigid rain. "Uhm...?" The icy silence wrung solemnly through the house. Slowly, and cautiously, he walked into the apartment, closed the door, and, after his eyes adjusted to the blackness, observed his surroundings, using the opportunity to snoop. It was a surprisingly nice place despite the decrepit quality of the surrounding building. The paint smelled fresh, oddly enough, since it didn’t look like it at all, and the furniture was well-taken care of. He ran his hand over the dark, illustrious woodwork of a nearby table. The cold surface was dustless and smooth, and Nik's hand glided across it effortlessly. The silence in the air was unnerving. Not even the rain could be heard from the inside of the building, and Nik wondered if time itself had decided to stop. A noise, the fridge door opening, broke the silence, and Nik was almost surprised. Time hadn't stopped after all. Not wanting to intrude without permission, Nik went towards the noise. He walked down the darkened corridor cautiously, remembering the many stories told to him about serial killers.
Paintings adorned the walls, impressionist and realist alike, done with extreme precision and skill. Colors exploded on the canvases. They were simple 10”x12” canvases, done in varying styles, substances, and pretexts. It was a beautiful collection, but upon his inspection, Nik could not find a signature anywhere, even when lifting the painting from the wall and checking the back. Replacing the masterpieces, he reached the end, and called into the apartment without really taking it in, “Hello!” There was no response. The source of the paint smell made itself known as he stepped into a large, softly lit area filled with easels supporting multiple unfinished, yet still strikingly beautiful paintings and several blank canvases. The large area, occupied only by the paintings and easels, was openly connected to another heightened portion by a short staircase. The upper area was sectioned off by a little wooden railing, and Nik could see a living room area next to the stairs. Off to the left, looping around the lower part of the apartment, was the kitchen. Beyond the living room were two doors, but what was behind them was unknown.
Standing in the kitchen in front of an open and quite bare stainless steel fridge, drinking orange juice from the carton, was his elusive host. "Hey, um, thanks for letting me in. It was freezing." The man glanced at Nik for half a second, and still said nothing. Nik was beginning to wonder if he was mute, and was afraid to push for conversation, so stuck to yes or no questions. "Yeah.... could I have a towel or something? I'm dripping all over your floor…" He was pointed to the closest of the two mystery doors. Trudging up the stairs, he counted each step. Only five, he concluded, which was good. If it had been one more or one less, he would have been stuck there for hours, stomping up and down the steps, on account of his obsessive compulsive disorder. He moved silently past the couch and through the door. His eyebrows drew together in confusion as he discovered he had just walked right into a bedroom. The simple black covers were drawn back, but other than that the room was neat enough. A stainless steel dresser stood off to the right, next to a small, pane glass window. On either side of the bed were end tables, one with a lamp and an alarm clock, also a burnished metal. The other was bare save for a lone book that looked remotely out of place in the cold grayness of the bedroom. There were no paintings on the walls, Nik was surprised to notice. There seemed to be masterpieces everywhere else but this one room.
Looking to his immediate right, he noticed a door opening to a bathroom with relief. He grabbed a towel from a steel rack, shrugged off his measly jacket, and attacked his hair in an attempt to dry it. A knock sounded on the door, and the man stood there, offering a pair of sweat pants and a dark blue t-shirt to him. It seemed to Nik that his host’s gaze lingered over his bare torso, but they quickly recovered and met his eyes, leaving Nik to wonder if he was imagining it.
"It’s practically a hurricane outside now, you're stuck here." His voice resounded with a lithified intelligence. Deep, smooth tones hinted at a maturity unknown to men his age, and median tenor notes hung evenly in the air. It was entrancing and intimidating all at once. Nik, somewhat startled with the man's ability to talk, took them gratefully and closed the door to change. The clothes were almost a perfect fit, the pants being just a bit too long. They definitely were more comfortable than his soaked garments. He collected them into a neat bundle and carried them out to the main room, towel draped across his head. Looking around for an appropriate place to put his stuff, he noticed the other door had been opened, and found that it leaded to a small laundry room. He dumped the garments onto the washer and walked back to the kitchen, looking at the almost universal stainless steel furniture and appliances that gave the whole neatened affair that was a kitchen an almost futuristic, modernized sense. His host was standing at the window, his muscular form purloined in the shadow of the storm through a floor to ceiling pane window that was surrounded by a steel frame. He definitely wasn't old, and yet his presence was wise and insightful. The guest cleared his throat to announce his existence, “I'm Nik. Thanks for, uh, taking me in.” The man continued to look out at the storm. Waiting for a response, but finding none, Nik took a seat at the kitchen table and watched the world through the same window. Some five minutes later, the man randomly laughed. It was soft and deep, a small, short sound. "G.B," he said.
“What?” Nik’s eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.
“G.B,” the man said again. This clarified nothing, and Nik was just as confused as before.
“I heard you. But what does it mean?”
“Nothing. It’s my name.”
“Oh… does it stand for anything?”
“No,” G.B said brusquely.
G.B. It was one of the oddest names Nik had ever heard. Was it a nickname? G.B put his hands in his pockets and turned back to the storm, thus causing his shirt to tighten over his shoulders. The muscular definition in his back was astounding, and his side was powerfully built and tight. Nik eyed him with a pang of envy."So... you did all these?" The paintings adorned the walls of the entire apartment. Nik was observing one next to his host, a huge, dark piece. It was the largest of all the ones he'd seen in the apartment. A silhouette of a man stood on a cliff, gazing upon an inferno below. A house consumed by orange, red and yellow flames, glowing in the dark of the night, licking the edges of the canvas with hot tendrils of destruction. Nik could almost feel the heat. Smoke twisted and snaked into the stars, fading into a soft green in the sky, almost like the Northern Lights. It was a captivating disaster, beautiful and terrifying.
"Yes," was all G.B replied.
"How long did that one take you?" G.B glanced at the work of art.
"A long time." Obviously this strange person wasn't up for a conversation. Nik scanned the room for a clock, and found one on the kitchen counter.
"It's getting late. Already past ten,” he sighed, “And I have work tomorrow. Where do you want me to sleep?"
G.B still stood at the window, observing the chaos outside. Rain pattered against the pane, and shadows danced across the man's face. It was beautiful enough to be one of the many masterpieces on the wall, with each droplet of water that clung hopelessly to the glass refracting the half twilight, each a mortal crystal, soon to be outshone or picked up by another, and each held its own life. The moment made Nik wonder if he was any different from those droplets. G.B's eyes were fixed on the window. Nik could see the focus and intensity, but also a hint of sadness, as if remembering something he would rather forget. A few seconds passed before he pulled out of the trance-like state and gestured towards the bedroom.
"I'll sleep on the couch."
"You don't have to do that. I'll sleep on the couch."
G.B shook his head. "Bedroom."
Nik brought his eyebrows down in protest. G.B brought his up in irritation, like mothers do when they want their children to obey. Nik caved. The other man didn't even have to say anything. In fact, this mysterious person hadn't said more than twenty words to him.
The bed was a comfortable and soft queen sized bed that seemed to inhale him in its formless mold, and Nik fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Nik awoke the next morning to the gloriously aromatic scent of frying bacon. He lifted his sleep-clogged head and groaned ineffectually. Leaning up, Nik slowly rose, attempting to shake fading dreams from his mind. The hardwood floors were cool and palpable. He looked out of the window, scanning the world outside. The view was magnificent, looking out onto a natural park that was set up in the city for people to hang out in and play. The night had left Nik restless and groggy, but the sight of a clear day and the smell of bacon cheered him enough to send him into the main room, with the canvases. Bacon, eggs and toast in the mornings were the prime example of a perfect breakfast in Nik's eyes. And it was all being prepared in the kitchen off on the side. It seemed he had dragged himself out of bed at exactly the right time, as G.B was carrying the last plate over to the table. Nik felt his mouth watering at the smell of some of the most palatable food ever, but decided to first check on his clothes. He wasn’t one to complain, but wearing someone else’s clothes, a stranger no less, made him uncomfortable. He stumbled into the small laundry room and inspected the status of his clothes, finding that they were still very damp.
"Damn, they're still wet," he sighed loudly. Bunching them up prevented them from drying, and Nik chastised himself for doing it.
Without even glancing up, the silver haired man sat at the small kitchen table and began filling his plate. Nik said nothing, but shuffled over and sat down at his already set place and did the same. He took a heavy portion of the bacon, scraped some scrambled eggs onto his plate and grabbed three pieces of toast, making sure none of the food came within inches of each other. He couldn't stand that.
"This is really good, G.B. Thanks." He scooped some eggs into his mouth and chewed exactly ten times before swallowing. G.B just nodded between bites. Just then, it occurred to Nik that earlier, when he saw G.B drinking the orange juice, the fridge was empty. He had most likely gone on an early morning grocery store raid. 'Just how early does this guy wake up?' Nik thought to himself, ‘It has to be only 8:00’.
Once they had both finished their food, they cleared the table and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Both men stood for a moment, not knowing quite what to do next, when the guest remembered his clothes. "I'll go get my stuff." He said, and gestured to the laundry room, planning to ask to throw them in the dryer. Much to his surprise, his extremely damp clothes that he had just held thirty minutes ago were bone dry. Impossible. Maybe he had still been somewhat asleep and his memory was jumbled. Or maybe GB already put them in the drier. No, that didn't make sense either. GB hadn't left the kitchen. Shaking his head in confusion, Nik headed to the bathroom to change when he noticed the time. He was wrong about the time when he thought 8 o’clock. "Shit," he swore under his breath, "I'm late for work. GB, I'm sorry, can I return your clothes later? I don't have any time to change." Nik hurriedly made his way out of the front door, not even waiting for a response. He had never been late before, he sure didn't want to be late today. The air outside was humid and the ground was still damp from the storm the night before. Nik ran as fast as he could back to the café.
“Just in time, Nikky,” his best friend Ronnie called out as he passed the threshold, “it’s not like you to be late. What happened?”
“I… wasn’t at home this morning.”
“What? What does that mean? Where were you? Were you with someone?”
“Look, can I explain later? I really need to get changed into my uniform.” He left Ronnie with an excitedly confused expression on her face.
As he opened his locker, he thought about the mysterious person he had just spent the morning with. What was his story? Who was he? Eventually, though, those thoughts were pushed to the back of Nik's mind as it was filled with long lists of food and drinks his customers ordered. Half the day had gone by, and he had just carried a large tray of deliciously scented food to a family of four when a man burst through the doors, startling nearby diners.
He had a mean, hardened look about him, and people flinched as his gaze landed upon them. He wore a black leather jacket hanging off of his lanky frame and large, clunky boots that seemed too big for his feet. His face was stubble ridden and leathery, his eyes small and beady. A vulture's eyes. He spoke through his yellow stained teeth to the hostess, a rough, grainy and threatening voice. Her eyes darted left and right, looking for some escape route. But he reached forward roughly and gripped her elbow, the metallic glint of a large knife winking at his side. She saw it, opened her mouth to call out, but just as quickly slammed her lips together, cutting off the choking noise of panic she had no doubt considered releasing. Nik found his mouth dry and empty as he walked to the cash register, keeping his mind on the rough man’s position in the restaurant through the heavy use of peripheral vision.
Upon reaching the cash register, Nik watched the rough man and his victim approach gingerly. None of the customers had noticed the questionable actions of the rough man at the front of the restaurant; everywhere gently hushed conversations and the clink of silverware on plates hummed deceptively. When the pair stood before him, the rough man leaned forward over the counter and hissed, “Give me the money.”
“All of it?” Nik looked into the assailant’s yellowed eyes and returned his look with a malicious glare.
“Of course all of it, you dipshit! Just empty it before he guts us!” The whites of Kat’s eyes shone mutedly in the dim lighting of the diner; Nik, for the first time since the robber had walked in, felt the effects of adrenaline on his nerves.
“You can’t just waltz in here and take the money, asshole.”
“I can, because if you don’t, I’ll kill her.” His eyes nervously darted from one corner of the room to another, searching for some unseen threat. The robber’s left hand darted forward and dropped an inconspicuous black bag on the counter top. “Fill it and hand it to the woman.”
Nick nodded quickly, extending one sweaty hand and gripping the bag in a blanched, tight fist
It was still silent, and it took a moment for the assailant to take notice of a new man standing level with him.
"And what the fuck do you want? I ain't got time to deal with shitheads all day."
Nik was watching through this pair of newfound legs in front of him from the parquet floor. He had nearly hit his head on a nearby chair on the way down, and was quite shaken. Everything was registered on his mind like on a blank cartridge; in great detail. He could see every thread in the denim of his defender's jeans; he could hear every breath of everyone in the cafe. He could remember all of the orders of the day and which people they went to, and suddenly, he caught sight of this mysterious man glancing back and making eye contact.
"Are you ok?" His voice was distinct and hardened, as if charred and pointed in fire. It was a middle tone, with scattered traces of kindness and choppy areas of some indistinguishable accent; attractive and masculine. His white hair was tousled and hung across his forehead, and Nik couldn’t help but wonder why all the mysterious strangers he had met that week had hair that color. Granted, GB’s was grey and this man’s was paper white. However, like GB, this man was also young, around 20.
Nik nodded and stood, brushing himself off. The defender looked back to the assailant and spoke one word.
"Go."
"What?" The man was incredulous. He obviously wasn't used to people ordering him around.
"Let me repeat it. Go."
A smirk came across his face. This was a game of chicken. And both were playing for keeps.
"You can't tell me what to do. Do you have any idea who I am?!"
"I do. You’re some shitbag who obviously doesn't have any manners or decency. So let me say it so you'll understand. Get the fuck out."
Raising his hand, the small eyed man readied himself for a punch, but the defender reached out and caught his fist in mid strike. Twisting quickly, he had to have broken at least three bones in the man's hand and brought him to his knees.
"I warned you." Walking to the exit quickly, he dragged the now whimpering man by his hand and slung him out of the door. As a finishing touch he gave him a quick kick to the ribs. And it was over. Walking back in, he went to the bar section of the store and ordered an espresso. Nik was astounded, and made it on the house to him.
"Thanks for that."
"You're welcome." He said, smiling over his cup of coffee.
"I'm Nik." Nik shook the man's hand and waited for a response. He didn't usually pry, but since the recent turn of events he was very curious about goings on in his life. The man’s deep, blue eyes glinted under the light. When no reply was given, Nik took it as a sign that he didn't want to talk. Letting it go, he let him get another drink for free and watched the white haired man walk out. He was odd, and Nik already liked him, although he was doubtful he would ever see him again.
The rest of his shift was uneventful and dull, and by the end of the day, boredom had invaded as Nik changed into his own clothes, folding G.B’s neatly. He thought about taking them back then, but decided against it. They needed to be washed, and G.B probably wouldn’t want to be disturbed by him again for a while anyway. Shoving the shirt and pants in a bag, Nik headed out of the restaurant to try to figure out a way to get his car keys back, but was ambushed by Ronnie.
“Details. Now.” She demanded. Nik sighed.
“After I closed up yesterday, I got locked out of my car and the café. So I ended up running, like, a mile to get out of the damn rain, and when I stopped for breath, this guy came out to have a smoke and I asked him if he could let me into his apartment building. And then I kind of just followed him up to his apartment,” Ronnie’s eyebrow raised at this, “and he let me in. Then the storm went all hurricane, and so he gave me some clothes and let me stay there. And he cooked us some bacon and eggs in the morning.”
“Oh my god, weren’t you scared he was gonna murder you or something? That guy could have been a total lunatic!” Her voice was blatantly incredulous at Nik’s lack of judgment.
“I know. But he didn’t.”
“So what was he like? What did he look like?” Again, her voice sank to that inquiringly suggestive tone that made Nik feel affronted in some passive aggressive way.
“He was like… 19 or 20 maybe, with grey hair and two scars on his cheek. And he had eyebrow piercings. He was really quiet, barely said anything. Oh, and he’s a painter. Really talented.”
“Grey hair. Why?”
“How should I know?”
“… Well… What was his name?”
“G.B.”
“What kind of name is that?” Ronnie chuckled under her breath thickly; it was a normal sardonic day for her.
“Will you stop hating on this guy? He was weird, I know, but he was nice. He let me sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. And he made breakfast.”
“Sorry, jeez.” Ronnie rolled her eyes. Nik just sighed and pulled out his phone to call his auto-insurance to see if they could help with the key incident. They said someone could be sent the next day, and Nik thanked them as he waved goodbye to Ronnie. ‘Looks like I’m walking home. Great.’
It was great to finally be free of the Mundie world and it’s increasingly insignificant annoyances, like essays and driver’s ed. It always felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders every time I came back to Hedevära. But today, I was on edge. My worries about being caught in a lie to my mom weren’t fading. I had already been caught twice, and each time she found out I was lying, the harder it got to find excuses to leave. Since I didn’t tell her I was going to a friend’s house, I had to sneak out. That was always way more risky.
“Why do you seem so tense?” Aaliyah tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped.
“Oh. Uh, I’m not,” I lied, badly. She noticed.
“Tell me.”
I sighed, “I’m just… I don’t like having to sneak around all the time so I can come here. I wish there was a way to tell everyone the truth.”
“Ah, yes. I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
“I do. It is difficult to lie to those you care about. But it is necessary. We wear the mask among them, the Mundies and the Hedevärans. We do not truly reside in either world, therefore we can never truly be ourselves. We must lie to everyone but ourselves and our fellow Travelers.”
At that, I flinched slightly. I couldn’t truly be myself among the other Travelers, either. My mask was not only worn among Mundies and Hedevärans, but the Travelers as well. I longed to share my secret with someone, to show them what I could do. I imagined the look that would be on Aaliyah’s face if she saw my magic. Would she really betray me if I told her?
“What do you feel about people with magic?” I ventured. Without a single moment’s hesitation, she replied, “They are scum.” I nodded curtly.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. I guess I’m… jealous of them.” It was true. Even though they were disliked by a lot of people, the chosen mages didn’t always have to hide behind a mask of lies. What I wouldn't give for that chance.
The very first time I passed through the Tear between the Mundie world and Hedevara, I had a voice on the other side to guide me along. It was easy when I had a guide. After that, I had to rely on myself to find my way through. They warned against staying in the Inbetween for too long. No good things to those who linger. I asked Aaliyah what happens if someone takes too long. Her face paled and she turned away from me. “They are lost to us.” She wouldn’t say more.
I was careful after that. Her words, vague as they were, were ominous enough to send chills down my spine. I was beginning to think not knowing the specifics was worse. The Inbetween was a massive white void, seemingly endless and stretching on in infinite directions. For a Traveler with enough practice, it was easy to get through. Just don’t stop walking.
Finding the Tear in the deep woods was second nature to me now and posed no challenge; even on cloudy, pitch-black nights like this. There was a still silence shrouding the woods, and not even a hint of a breeze. I shivered.
The Tear’s faint, eerie glow pierced through the darkness, beckoning me towards it. I unloaded my Mundie possessions and stuck them in my usual tree stump and took in a gulp of air to calm my nerves. I’d done this a hundred times by now, it was simple. I chalked up my jitters to the fact that I almost got caught sneaking out of the house. It’ll be fine.
The familiar hum of the Tear engulfed me; its white noise invaded my senses, except it was deeper, wavering. It had never sounded like that before. I ignored the warning sirens that sounded off in the back of my head. One step and I was through. I was confined within the portal to another world, walking through to the other side. It still amazed me sometimes, but all I felt now was anything but excitement. The urgency of my situation and the looming ominous cloud that hung over my mind pushed me forward and I hastened across the vast Inbetween.
After I crossed halfway, I could see Hedevara’s portal ahead of me. I was reassured by the sight of it, the familiar cave just visible through the Tear. Then, just as I was about to reach it, the portal flickered once. My stride faltered. I’d never seen a Tear do that before. Heat rose from my chest into my face as dread grabbed hold of me. A single, shuddering breath slid past my lips.
And then everything fell apart.
The portal shuddered, whined, and snapped. The opening to the other side where I could see the cave in Hedevara disappeared from sight. I spun in a panic, desperately searching for the way back home, but all I could see was endless white, and all I could hear was reality screeching and ripping apart around me and I couldn’t handle it, collapsing to my knees.
When I woke up I was still there. Nothing but white, endlessly in all directions.
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