#character revival

[daddy-chiluc]

Truth be Told

Chiluc Angst

Tw: Character Death + Revival, Amnesia

Why you should never let any of your characters die (also I’m sorry):

—

It was cold, bitter cold. The winds of Dragonspine freezing his tears to his cheeks as he trudged through the snow. His fingers began to go numb as the warmth of his cheeks slowly dissipated.

“Come on Rosebud, we’re almost there,” he whispered as he carried the man in his arms, earning no reply. His vibrant red hair swaying gentle in the wind as snow began to build on his eye lashes. He had refused to stop, he couldn’t stop.

“We’re almost there...hear that Firefly? We’re almost there.” His lips began to turn blue as he approached a glowing figure. A statue. A statue of Lord Barbatos, his hands turned palm up, begging for whatever forgiveness and mercy the mountain had to give. Basking in its warmth, he collapsed, the heavy body in his arms limp as he pulled him closer onto his lap.

“C’mon, hey, Diluc...,” he cried, trying desperately to warm the cheeks of the lifeless body in his arms, “Diluc, wake up... Hey,” a broken sob broke past his lips as he held him closer, desperately searching for that warmth he had longed for, desperate in hearing his heart beat once more.

His feather light touches and shy ‘I love you’s. His voice caught in his throat as his tears melted from his cheeks. His arms shook violently as he held onto the other tightly, his blood staining his gloves. He didn’t care what it would take for him to have his Firefly back.

“Please...please come back to me...” he cried, pressing gentle kisses to his temple as his fingers trembled, “please come back to me my love.” His lips quivered as he brushed the strands of hair out of his face. With a jolt of life his rosy cheeks lit aflame, breathing quickened as he grasped onto anything he could. He was frantic, panicked, his eyes ablaze as he searched around taking everything in...but there was very little. A snowy mountain looming above him and a mound of orange hair.

“D-Diluc?” It was hopeful, his hand twitching as he held his cheek, “Hey, hey it’s okay, I’m here, we’ll take you back to Adeline and —,”

“What did you do to me?!” His eyes seemed to glow violently.

“W-what? I didn’t do anything to y—,”

“I don’t believe you, how do you know Adeline.” Hatred had filled his eyes as he glared at him, pushing him away with a quick summon of his claymore. He stared in disbelief as he searched those scarlet eyes he begged to see once more.

“Diluc...Diluc Ragnvindr...I’m your boyfriend. You call me Ajax and I wake up beside you every morning,” he wanted to scream but he had to keep his composure, “You had your first kiss with me...you had your first time with me. Your hands get nervous when you ask to hold my hands...you are the only person that’s ever been so gentle with me,” he could feel the tears streaming down his face as the statue did its best to protect him from that cold stare he was getting from him; far colder than Snezhnaya or Dragonspine.

“You’re lying.”

“Then look on your left hand...” his throat was hoarse as he watched the other hesitantly look at his hand, “That’s the promise ring I gave you on our anniversary...” a soft cry broke from his throat as he showed him the matching ring on his left hand, red gemstones embroidered in the silver.

“If you don’t believe me, let me take you back to the winery, please. Adeline can help, and so can the others —,”

“What makes you think I’d believe you. You’re Fatui, how do I know you aren’t lying to me?” Fatui. Had his memory seriously left him? How long would this last? Was it permanent? His mind raced, unsure of what to do.

“Your neck is ticklish. I found that out one day when I was kissing your neck. You also have an entire compartment filled with grape juice.” He laughed softly.

“How do you...”

“How do I know that? I know you wont trust me...the only way I could get you to listen was if I told you something only you would know.” He sighed, looking, hoping he would remember. He could hear distant shouts of their names being called. Traveller and Albedo.

“We’re up here,” he called as he slowly stood up. Whips of blonde hair could be seen as they froze in place, worried at the sight before them, Diluc holding his claymore, ready to fight Childe.

“Make sure he gets home safely, will you?” He pleaded, about to disappear from the mountain.

“What happened?” Albedo called, worried for various reasons.

“He can’t remember me...I’m worried he’ll hate me more if I stay any longer, so please, make sure he gets home safe.” With a brief turn of his back, he leapt off, the wind glider spreading across the winds, letting them carry him through the blizzard.

“Diluc...what happened?” The traveller spoke softly, holding his arm as burning red eyes flashed down to them.

“It’s amnesia, it’ll last for a few days after revival.”

“W-who was he. How does he know so much about me?” His voice shook with anxiety.

“Diluc...that was your boyfriend. You’ve been together for a year.” The traveller’s voice was gentle, easing him into the fact that yes, the Harbinger had told him the truth. With a quick glance, he stared at the silver ring, specks of blue glowing softly as his breathing slowed.

He had told the truth...and now he was gone. He wasn’t sure why, but the pang in his chest hurt far worse than the injuries that littered his body. He had told the truth.

[argonas]

A Hollow Homecoming

Bloodmyst Isle hadn’t changed a bit. It provided a hollow comfort; what the debris of the Exodar had done to the wildlife was regrettable, and yet seeing it so unchanged, just as he remembered it… it felt like home again. His steps were heavy, despite casting aside his plate armor. Calloused hands had let go of his hammer long ago - instead, a simple spear would suffice. Not for fighting in any war, or vanquishing any in the name of Light’s justice. Those days were behind him. No, this spear was a utility, a means to survive. That’s all he could hope for now.

His makeshift tent was pathetic, but suitable enough to keep out the elements. A crate of supplies he’d carried out and set aside remained sealed beside the sorry structure. Unopened, for now. He pulled back his hood, as he looked over the red-stained waters of a nearby river. His crest was cracked, tendrils missing. Face marred by the scarring of a thousand cuts, both big and small. Eyes aglow, but full of sorrow. Regret. Guilt. It was these eyes that looked over the secluded area that would be his new home, for as long as he remained alive. Separated from a love who had died in his arms.

Argonas was home, at last.

The pain was indescribable, but Sinafay endured, knowing it was only for a short moment longer. Soon, there would be no more pain. Leaning in and closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against Argonas’ crest. By now, bright green lacerations had formed over her skin.

“Ready, my Love?” she managed to say, “The Light… it is waiting… yes?” Weakly, Argonas brought his hand up to cup Sinafay’s face. For all the pain coursing through him, he managed a smile. “It is - the Light is waiting, my Beloved.” he said, weakly. “Take us there; where we will be free.” As the enemy footsteps entered the chamber, Sinafay wrapped her arms tightly around Argonas and detonated a fire spell, causing an explosion that completely devastated everything around them.

Argonas closed his eyes. He felt all the pain leave his body, in that moment. The intense heat of the fel runes carved into his skin had all gone away. Burns across his body, too, were soothed entirely. Was this death? So peaceful, so comfortable following the agony he and his beloved Sinafay had endured. He felt a warmth, a sensation he had not felt in a long, long time - the Light was with him! He could feel its blessed holiness wash over him, cleansing away his wounds as it began to take him away to join with it

He thought, anyway.

His eyes opened, as he beheld the horrific scene still unfolding all around him, seeming to play out in slow motion. He saw the fires consume everything - the demons, the enemies, the structure itself shattered from the force. He looked at Sinafay, his beloved, as he held her in his arms. She, too, began to break apart from the fiery inferno her detonation spell had caused. Her eyes had closed as well, as she embraced him - her expression one of peace, despite the destruction all around her. She was comforted by this death, gladly giving her life to destroy the Legion. Her body disintegrated before him, the fires consuming it entirely.

And yet he remained.

The glimmer of the Light’s protection reflected off of his body. He gasped, recognizing what had happened. Sinafay’s siphon removed his corruption, drawing it into herself to fuel the destructive detonation. The Light had returned to him once more, for the first time in months! Over a year! It protected him, sealing him away in a barrier to save him from death. This… this wasn’t what he wanted! He was to die alongside Sinafay, his beloved! Instead, the resurgence of the Light’s glory into him had instinctively preserved him! He had no time to protest, no further moment to ponder. The eruption threw his Light-shielded form from the tower, blasting him off with the explosion Sinafay had caused.

The tower burst, blasting felsteel and blazing flames in all directions as it crumbled. The blast was enormous, covering the entirety of the sky with hellish fire. Argonas was but a fragment of the debris, preserved by the Light as he catapulted off into the distance. He slammed into a cliff facing, before falling down to the ground beneath it. The Light’s protection faded as he passed out from the sheer force of impact into the ground. He laid out, motionless. Intact. Alive.

The Lightforged had found him some days later, and returned him to the Vindicaar. He spent the final days of the Argus campaign unconscious, bed-ridden, recovering. After their final flight home, he awoke in the Exodar. The Anchorites told him what had happened… he couldn’t believe it. The Legion defeated, His Light returned… Sinafay killed… but he had lived.

It was a lot… too much… He needed time to sort it out. To grieve. To decide what it meant that he survived when his beloved had died. He gathered simple supplies and headed north to Bloodmyst Isle to seek solitude to figure it all out.

His camp needed work. He knew that. But first, he needed to rest for a moment. He looked over the red water, discolored so by the Warp Core’s radiation. It didn’t look good… he had to check it, first. He knelt down, and scooped up some of the water into his waterskin. He gave it a tentative sniff… and grimaced. No, it wouldn’t do at all. He poured it back out.

“Are you lost, friend?” came a voice from behind him.

He turned to see another Draenei. A woman, in rather primitive attire. Argonas eyed her over, cautiously.

“You are a long ways away from civilization.” she pressed her question, looking him over in a similarly-cautious fashion.

“Yes… that is the idea.” he cleared his throat. “I did not think anyone else would live out here, but… you do, I presume? This is your, aah… your home?”

The woman moved in closer, though kept a fair distance as she continued to appraise him. He remained still, save his tail, which flickered to and fro with a hint of nervousness. She was a Draenei, surely. But what manner of Draenei would live out here? Her attire suggested she was a naturalist of some kind - not a whole lot of her was covered up. Was she some kind of outcast?

"I take no claim to the land. But I live on this isle, yes. Attempting to restore balance." replied, before casting her eyes to the water, "A losing battle, that."

Argonas nodded, relaxing visibly. That made sense - she was a shaman, here to help restore the land. Sinafay had told him some elementalists wandered the Isles for that purpose. This woman must have been one of them.

“I see.” he replied, offering a weak smile. “Well... I am not here to intrude, or hinder your work. I am just looking for a new place to live. Away from others…”

“You seek isolation?” she asked.

"I do, yes. I... recently returned from Argus." he sighed, shifting; tail flickering as his eyes cast down. "I lost my Love, there. I... "

He trailed off… the memory still too fresh in his mind. He drew in a measured breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“I see... My condolences.” the woman replied, offering a sympathetic nod. “Nature does have a way of soothing the soul of the suffering. I am a bit of a hermit myself, so I will not attempt to make contact again if you do not wish it.“

“I... think that would be best. I am sorry, I know that may sound rude, but…” Argonas shook his head. “I do not feel like interacting with others.”

The woman gave him a bit of a smile at that. "It is not rude. I live out here because I do not enjoy being around other people for to long. I mostly reside on the other side of the isle, so I will not be bothering you. However, if you do need help out here, do not hesitate to seek me out for aid. My name is Mierne."

“Light's blessings upon you, Mierne. I am Argonas.” he bowed his head in a polite salute.

Mierne looked at the river again, then at the makeshift camp. "I would not drink that water. A rain filtration system would be best."

Argonas’ gaze followed hers, back to the corrupted water.

"--Aah, yes, I suppose it would. I will manage, thank you." he nodded. “I only hope I do not disturb you, yes? If I do, please let me know. You are here doing productive work. I am only here to... brood.”

"I will tell no one of your presence here, Argonas.” Mierne nodded in response. “Stay as long as you need to."

With that, Mierne shifted into a ghostly wolf form. She ran off, without another word! Argonas blinked, barely having time to respond.

"--Aah, thank you!" he quickly shouted as Mierne took off. "Khrona... kai..."

He offered a wave... and a frown as she disappeared into the treeline. With a sigh, he got back to work setting up his camp. He wasn’t as alone as he had hoped, but… if Mierne was a hermit as well, she’d likely leave him be. Good enough. He cracked open the crate, and began settling into his new home. For how long, he couldn’t say. But for whatever it meant, whatever it was worth… he was back.

(( @kidcatgemini / @sinafay1 ))

[you-are-a-saucy-boy]

Am I the only one who when a character comes back to life does the “HHHHHH” gasp thing

Like literally, every single time a character come back to life a I sit bolt upright and do the Captain Jack Harkness gasp. Every. Single. Time.

[cat-arsenal]

Character Revival 16: Silver's Crew

One evening, I was overcome by an image of a beautiful floating library and its single patron, who stole a vital tidbit of information (interrupting a perfectly quiet almost-closing time by tearing a page from a book and leaping out of the window with a smile).  I wish I could paint it.  I wish I could animate it.  Maybe someday.

Anyway, the thief leapt out of the library and onto her HUGE, RUSTY AIRSHIP and then we did a couple of bad roleplays with her and her crew, a band of sky pirates made up of an ex-soldier, an orphan with a pet fairy-rabbit, and a boar-hound.  I've since added members, backstory, and characterization, but I'd like to build it into a full thing of its own sometime.

[cat-arsenal]

Character Revival 15: The Mafians

For a while, Hope and I were really into organized crime.

Fictional organized crime, I mean.

Seems like every other character was either in the mob or had ties to it, and at one time, we had a large syndicate of Italian-American mobsters, a small sect of Yakuza and a runaway from the Mafiya, some not-entirely-lawful lawyers, and a group of entertainers with a legacy built on protection money.

(And now we have some more?)

I've no idea, but I was really attached to all of them once upon a time, and I'd like to one day see them reborn as better-planned beings.

*loud shrugging*

[cat-arsenal]

Character Revival 14: Marcus

Around seventh or eighth grade, when Girl Scouts was still a thing (shh), a few of my friends and my sister and I decided that we needed to have male alter egos.  Actually, I think half of DeviantArt did, but our additional suggestion was that said alter ego either was or was named after a Famous Dude (definitions vary).  All I can remember is that my sister was Gerard (Way), my best friend was Ashton (Kutcher), and I was Marcus (after the creepy guy from one of Dane Cook's skits).  Beyond a brief, two-line in-joke that my sister and I still repeat from time to time, those days are behind us.

Now, I use Marcus or Mark Moon as a video game avatar/nom de plume.  His roughed out design is usually more or less how I draw myself.

[cat-arsenal]

Character Revival 13: Simon

Beginning in elementary school, some of my friends had things they called their consciences--I guess their internal reasoning manifested into a character.  I'm still not sure I completely understand, but it was fun, and after a lot of trial and error, I finally settled on a mopey guy I called Simon.

I used his name/nicknames as my own online noms de plume for a while, and enjoyed drawing him being generally fed up with existence.

Wow.  Suddenly, a lot is clear.

[cat-arsenal]

Character Revival 12: Night Terrors

I have/had a TON of vampires and werewolves, in varying stages of embarrassing preteen fantasy.  Here's a brief run-down (I don't know if I actually want to do anything with most of them, but remembrance is important):

On the werewolf side, Ana the ninjawhathaveyou from a couple sets back was a longtime avatar of mine, as well as a grumpy black wolf who is occasionally still referenced in Adventure Quest.  I also had three semi-werewolves (the mom looked more like a saluki) that I referred to collectively as the Corinthian Werewolves; they were refugees from something, having come to America as children, and the older brother was a lawyer.  Other than that, I don't really recall.  Dingo, from a few more sets back, was also a werewolf once upon a time.  My most recent wolf, in whom I am most currently interested, is called Una Whelan.  I met her in a dream, and am working on her story, Wolf in a China Shop (title pending).

Speaking of Wolf in a China Shop, my two most recent vampires are a pair of siblings called Zhen Zhi and Heng Jian.  They run an antique shop/black market business in an afterdark semi-Chinatown aimed at myths, monsters, and fairy tale beings.  Zhen Zhi is the one who turned Una, in a complicated ritual born partially of odd dream logic and partially of old, old myths I once read about.  Similar to Una's atypicality, I also once had a dream-born vampire called Percy McLaine.  He was a truck driver who nearly died in a rural town infested by newblood vampires, and was saved by a fatherly psychic vampire dog who had long ago been turned by his loving master, since killed.  The two of them then set about to free the area from the vampire menace.  I'm sure I had others, but the oldest I can recall was a guy I once dressed as for Halloween, for lack of better preparation--he was called Clyde because I wanted to give a sleek, modern-typical vampire a rough-sounding name.  Other than that, he was pretty typical, using his pretty face and ill-gotten funds to take advantage of lax party guests at lavish, Victorian mansion get-togethers.

Yep.