#zane's character

[characteresque]

Wow, its been a while!

[characteresque]

Finally made a HA for Theo.

[characteresque]

Writing Exercise: Dreams

It landed upon him like the sick moist smell of rot, the instant and all-consuming inky blackness of night. It was overcast above, and coupled with the 9PM blackout below - he struggled to make the edges of the buildings as he flew past them. His fingers stung with the effort of each grab, shaking under the sprinting conditions in which he found himself jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He could hear them behind him - two men, struggling for breath without an ounce of grace as they attempted and failed at matching his pace.

Sinclair Parker, of course, knew how to control his breathing even though his lungs tore at his ribs for more air. The pain caused tears to threaten the holds of his eyelids, but what's more than just being embarrassing; his vision threatened to add to his precarious position via way of wavering reflections. He propelled himself out of a lengthening leap with the palm of his hand, and caught his gasp in his throat as he felt the crumbling older building give way just a fraction of an inch under him.

He hadn't counted on that.

He twisted his body in midair, guiding his fall a bit more toward the side of the brick building, quickly reevaluating his predicament. His fingers caught on a passing windowledge, giving away his position with the deep thud of a ribcage hitting stone as he clung for dear life. All the air escaped his body, painfully, and he had to grind his teeth together to prevent a cry of pain.

The stampeding Harbingers above him must not have heard him, for they leapt from the crumbling rooftop to the next without so much as a backwards glance.

They hadn't heard him slip. They hadn't seen him fall there, in the dark.

Sinclair was safe - for now. But he wouldn't be for long if he continued to hang there, dangling from mere fingertips, eye-level with the backside of some poor individual's dresser peeking at him through the glass. Soundlessly, he hoisted himself up - toes of his boots meeting his fingertips as he crouched on the ledge. It must have been six inches in depth at the maximum - but it gave him just enough foothold to provide the leverage to try the window. The screen was warped and easily removed with one hand, propped against his bent knee as he pushed upward on the glass.

It wasn't surprising to feel it give way to the pressure; it wouldn't have been plausible to think someone may be trying to break into a 17th floor window like this. Apartments like this had popped up all around Dallas in the previous decades, the one-story dwellings of the suburbs long ago purchased by companies that could afford such a luxury.

He folded himself into the window, taking the screen with him and laying it gently to the side of the dresser. As he had expected, next to him lay a sleeping individual who had not yet been alerted to his presence. The smell of gasoline and city smog gave way to the tinny smell of an air purifier combined with the artificial smell of some kind of plug in air freshener. Some sort of masculine scent; this was a boy's room.

Sin carefully padded his way around the room, hoping for some kind of pile of laundry from which to pull a disguise. But alas, the room was immaculately clean; sterile white walls and somewhat seafoamish colored accessories. It looked a bit like a hospital, and with a small lift of one corner of his lips, he noted the medical books stacked neatly on the shining white desk next to the door. That would be why, wouldn't it?

He touched the doorknob gingerly, feeling for the amount of give in the metal as he gave it a gentle turn. He would have to leave this room and explore the apartment for new clothes before he made his escape, down the block and next to the 24-hour easymart where he kept his bike stowed. His thoughts were firmly planted in the next half hour when a rustling sound brought him crashing back to the moment; down the hall, he could hear those trained feet doing the same as he were doing; padding along, trying doors.

Sin wheeled his arms around in surprise. How had they found him already? Those clumsy, oafish Harbingers were barely useful for anything more than cheap entertainment for the afternoon...how could they have picked this one apartment out of the hundreds in this building?

He picked up his feet much higher than he needed as he made a silent dash for the closet - mercifully ajar - and dove right on in. He had barely the time to bring the door closed, just shy of latching, before the door to the sleeping boy's room flew ajar. Sin recoiled at the sound of hinges squeaking noticeably, and he cursed their poor training as the occupant of the sole bed of the room flew up to a sitting position.

"Who's there?!?" the occupant spat in that sweet circular spot between asleep with non-reality and fear. His tongue clicked as he tried to wake enough to match his pounding heart - and with a plastic "click" he flicked on the bedside table lamp.

The cold of the December night crashed into Sin all at once as horrible recognition swept over him. Those green eyes and messy black hair glinted in the sudden bulblight, a soft cotton pajama shirt coming unbuttoned just at the top. His cheeks were flushed with pink but his fingers were pale, and his chest rose with the sudden and shallow breathing of a bird.

The figure in the doorway took a single purposeful step into the room, his knee clicking with a familiarity that made Sinclair's stomach crawl. The heel of his large boot hit the soft carpet, soiling it with a thick cake of mud. Those boots were all wrong for jumping and scaling walls...his bones screamed at every move he made, now his shoulder creaking as he reached for his waistband. This man was not a Harbinger at all. His body was a hulking black monolith against the suddenly weak-seeming lamp, and only after another step did the light finally break past the crust of darkness that obscured him. The man's yellow eyes were not trained on the bed, despite his purposeful steps in that direction; they stayed trained on the small crack in the closet, locking eyes with the occupant inside. The man was preparing to put on a show for the wretched creature trapped in the closet.

Sin felt a scream crawl up his throat, quite uncharacteristic of him - before a flying arm of a hanging sweater next to him in that closet suddenly flung itself over his lips. It muffled him, and at once Sin began fighting. He saw the man progress another step, as if slowed in time, and horror painted Sin's mind a bruised red around the field of his vision. He grasped at the threads of the clothing that hung around him, now wrapping themselves around his legs, causing him to fall sideways awkwardly in the closet. He ripped away a shred of sweater sleeve as he thrashed about, causing all kinds of noise in his tomb. As soon as he worked up a gasp to fill his lungs, the leg of cotton pants found their way into his mouth now, creeping for his throat as he rolled his alligator death roll with as much force as he could muster. He could hear all kinds of activity now outside of his door - blinded by the darkness and shrieking for want of helping the poor occupant of that room. Finally, he clutched the corner of some bit of cloth, pulling it down with a rip that tore at his throat with an angry red burn;

"KASER!" he finally choked, sitting up in his bed. Sin panted as his confused eyes took in the scene around him, suddenly askew and distorted in angles that did not make sense to his sleeping brain. He had been in the closet just a blink ago, the lit room extinguished now as he stared at the closet door from the outside, as if transported. He heard a gasp next to him, and a clumsy fumble for the bedside light on the other side of the mattress. It clicked on with jarring brightness, causing Sin to blink away confusion. He jumped to his feet to scan the room for him - for Liam - but as soon as he pulled his muscles tight to throw him to his feet, he flopped forward awkwardly.

The sheets had wrapped themselves around his body, a cocoon of bad dreams that had been wound tightly with the tossing and turning. The closet with it's grabbing threads and flailing shirt sleeves came to stunning realization as the pathetic man narrowed his eyes at his own trap. He heard a snort of humor behind him, next to him, warm and safe. The humiliation of his situation flared inside of his chest as he tore the sheet off of his body, throwing great handfuls of the shroud over the side of the bed and muttering words that he hoped couldn't be heard. Before those giggles could continue, Sin silenced them firmly, pulling Kaser close to him when he was done.

"Geeze Sin...what did you dream about?" he asked at last, green eyes staring up at him in confused curiosity. The sounds he had heard in that closet in his dream drifted somewhere under his consciousness, but with Kaser safe right next to him...the thoughts were already beginning to fade.

"Nothing. Go back to bed." he demanded, the weight of sleep pulling at his eyelids once more. "But this time don't run from me."

Kaser tilted his head in confusion until he could feel the tightening of interlocking fingers. With a sigh of submission, the two slipped back into that world of nonsensical sleep - with no sheet around Sinclair to spook him, and with fingers grounding him to the reality of safety at long, long last.

[characteresque]

Writing Exercise: Mani

Mani chose his footfalls carefully, his journey to the top of the hill a painstaking one. He leaned heavily upon his walking stick, a rhythmic deep clicking sound accompanying him as his left hip popped with every step. His eyes were covered with a misty white veil, obscuring all but the nearest and brightest of colors, so most of his journey would rely on touch alone - this would not be difficult, seeing as he had made this path hundreds of times.

It was a well-trodden, packed earthen road behind the home he shared with his William for decades now, and it was one of the only walks he elected to take in his old, old age. At long last, he crested the hill; a once short walk that now reduced him to heaving for breath, sweat beading in the white scraggly strands of his long beard. He reached out in front of him, right where he knew it would be: about twenty years ago, his talented carver created a loving gift - a solid block of oak carved into a smooth, beautiful bench that ivy loved to grow up on. With surprising dexterity and speed, he waved his wrinkled fingers over the bench, catching at wispy new vines to be pulled away. Finally, he heaved himself onto the comforting wooden seat, sighing deeply as his hip gave one more deep pop.

He paused for a moment, enjoying the feeling of restful peace after the struggle of walking such a way; he felt as if he were melting into a formless pile of colorful fabric, wires and wrinkled skin. Maybe he were, he thought with a chuckle - one goes stark raving blind just at the right time in old age, just when one no longer cares about appearances. With a deep breath, Mani began fishing around on his chest for just the right bottle. He had many glittering, clinking vials around his neck, hung on cords for easy reach - and he could recognize by touch exactly which potion he were grabbing. Finally, his fingers grasped a delicately thin bottle with a curious globe shaped top, and after uncorking it, he drank the liquid inside with relish. He always loved this particular creation, he had been buying it at Helena's Brews for almost forty years - first by the young and hopeful Alchemist that moved there, and then by her daughter and now her granddaughter.

With brilliant splendor, it was as if a sleeping man had opened his eyes to the bright sunlight after a midday nap. The hilltop came into sharp (almost painful) focus, the rays of morning sun illuminating the network of pathways below linked cheerily between patches of flowers, berry brambles, and structures. As if he had suddenly been pulled from a very deep pool, the weight of old age and his own bones were lifted; instead of walking through syrup pressing against him at all sides, it became as easy as gliding as he stood to his feet at once and took an easy jog down the slope of the hill.

Mani!" She was a little thing, maybe six years old with big, hopeful brown eyes. Her black curly hair had been carefully pulled into tight braids which clinked cheerfully against each other, hand-carved wooden beads creating music with every motion she made. He loved her as he would love his own, and with only a little effort, he bent low to scoop her into his arms.

Lottie." he said affectionately, brushing away a striking smear of white ash from her cheek with his thumb. She seemed pleased with herself for the mess she had made of her dress, as she were holding a charcoaled bit of log.

I read the lines, Mani! Just like you showed me!" She chirped proudly, holding the log up to his eyes. He couldn't help himself as he read the splits in the bark, breaking from the center and outward in a pleasing pattern.

Oh yes?" he said patiently, reading quite distinctly that he were going to have terrible heartburn that night. "And what do you see?

A pretty flower!" she said, looking at the deeply lined wood in awe.

Ah...yes, well, keep practicing." Mani encouraged, putting the girl to her feet. She was beaming, positively radiating energy and joy. "You've done a fantastic job.

Really?" she gasped, looking into his eyes with astonishment. "I think I've seen those flowers before, you know!

Mani looked up at the man approaching him, recognizing the deep furrow of fatherly disapproval. William stopped about a dozen feet away before he crossed his muscular arms, his woodcarving tools swinging at his hip as he tapped his foot impatiently. With a sheepish grin, Mani patted Lottie's head, sending small poofs of white ash into the air as he did so. That was the last straw, as William crossed the space between them and Lottie got the hint.

Imma go find them!" she jilted quickly as she turned tail to run into the nearby forest, her precious scrying log forgotten as it clunked against the dirt. William had opened his mouth to call after her, but Mani pressed his finger against his lips until the sounds of the little girl hauling through the brush faded to silence.

What one earth are you teaching this girl?" William sighed, more exhausted than angry as he watched after her. "You do realize her life is very different in our world than for you in your world. They're going to think she's...she's not right.

Mani stared at the man in front of him, unable to prevent the tears from gathering in his eyes. He wasn't sure where the tears were coming from, but they didn't seem to bother William as he finally focused on the witch in front of him. He looked full of life, the morning light casting a golden hue onto his healthy skin and clear golden brown eyes. His concern came from love and nothing more, and Mani understood completely. Yes, it was a hard life ahead of her should she continue to play pretend. But the thing was, the thing that William struggled to understand - the girl was not playing pretend at all.

A bubbling in his gut pulled Mani from the tender moment, and he frowned. No, it was premature - it wasn't time yet. A ripple distorted William's face as if an intense heat had erupted between the two of them, and Mani watched as William's face had grown soft, the furrows of his brows released. "Mani...you know, Lottie hasn't been this happy since her mother..." his voice wavered a bit, and although the heat waves continued to grow in intensity, Mani knew he were the only one that could see them. He reached his hand out and touched William's cheek, round and soft as ever, the heat of his body causing goosebumps to raise on Mani's skin. "I'm happy I found you again, Mani." said William, opening his eyes one more time, filled with beauty, filled with strength.

I am too. I always am." Mani repeated the lines as he always did, knowing what to say next. The image in front of him began to grow misty, jittering from side to side in great heaves as the image faded. From the forest, however, his attention had been torn.

Mani!" Lottie called, running through the trees once again. "Mani! I have them...

Lottie?" Mani asked, squinting now against the haze. He couldn't see much anymore...deep green giving way to the dark brown of her skin. A flash of purple, as well? His spine felt it first, a deep weight settled over him as his eyes fluttered against the focus.

Mani." Lottie said kindly, her hands scooping his into them. Her hands were delicate and soft, although beginning to wrinkle just around her knuckles. He felt of them gingerly, and realized with a start that she had indeed found that flower she took off for. A burning in his chest indicated to Mani that they had both been right - and with sudden speed, the seemingly sleepy old man snatched up the flower and shoved it gratefully into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowing the slimy secretions in great gulps to extinguish the dry heat in his throat. The woman in front of him had a frown in her voice. "You know that memory potion gives you heartburn every time!" she didn't sound at all concerned, as Mani might be old and blind but still a sage nonetheless. "Why do you come up here and drink that old stuff? Daddy's been looking for you for half an hour!

Mani just chuckled, heaving himself up to a standing position with great difficulty, leaning on his walking stick and the shoulder of his adopted daughter. His hip however, had stopped it's clicking - and although he wobbled from his own weight, the pain had disappeared. "That potion is good for other things, you know." he warbled good-naturedly, knowing that her gentle hands would lead him down the path to present day thoughts, present day William and maybe a pleasant brunch with any luck.

You old fool." she laughed with a familiar smile in her voice. "Which memory was it this time?

The stories he told of the memory trips he took always required the entire length of the path back home, and Mani was grateful for the patience Lottie showed him as he rambled. By the time he had embellished the simple memory to include a grand battle and a romantic interlude, they appeared on the back porch of his own home. The sounds of William clinking around in the kitchen and the smells of frying bacon greeted him, and his simple wants of a quiet family meal were sure to become a reality. All around him from down the street, the sounds of unfamiliar people and bustling activity reached his ears, but his sight had gone years before he caught glimpses of how the world had been changing around him.

There you are! Mani - if I have told you a thousand times -" William began, but with the press of a wrinkled finger, Mani shushed him. He felt of his face, the plump firmness of youth given way to the soft, almost deflated feeling of old skin. It was beauty beyond compare no matter what age he felt with him, and with a glad toothless smile, Mani showed his emotion rather than saying it. Not everyone has the grand honor of achieving a great age - but of all the things this man had seen and done, it was his proudest achievement.

[characteresque]

It was so exciting working on the character workshop!!! After lots of time and work, I finished with the 'exalted' familiar. How exciting! The prompt for this little drawing was "a selfie style picture", and I took the meaning quite literally. Alex would be the type of character that would really enjoy taking selfies, if they existed in her world. So, I had some fun with it!

Also, here is a more formal draw up of Alex, including her wires this time....her wires are paramount to her transfer of energy, but they're so intricate to draw that I had never made a proper reference picture for her. Also, her hair!!!!

[characteresque]

Writing Exercise: Ehuang

Ehuang awoke to a burning cold prickling her skin, the tell-tale feeling that one gets when a stinging insect's poison floods over their consciousness. She curled up in her bed, doubling over in pain as the pinpricks of discomfort washed over her, starting from her toes and finally cresting up over her head before starting to grow at her toes again. No, this was no kind of insects...thousands of them, maybe, but not just one.

What...on earth?" She stumbled out of bed, the sound of her body hitting the wooden slats below waking her temple attendants. The young man bounded up the stairs quickly before helping Ehuang straighten to her feet, and his eyes were filled with alarm.

Madam, you're soaked!" he commented with worry, pressing his flat palm against her clammy arm. She just nodded unhappily, another wave of pain hitting her as she shuttered miserably. "I will get the doctor. Just...just sit here!" he demanded before taking flight down the stairs once more.

She wished he hadn't have left her. She groaned, reaching for her nightstand to steady herself. The least that idiot could have done was lay her down again! After what seemed like an eternity, a kindly old woman finally made her way into her room - gratefully, she had the common sense to lay Ehuang out before examining her. Sheepishly, her attendant went downstairs to hopefully alert the neighbors.

The doctor made sounds here and there of displeasure, and that only deepened Ehuang's worry. "Oh dear." She said at last, tipping a seashell brimming with disgusting liquid down Ehuang's throat. At this point, in so much discomfort, she would have gladly drank anything. Almost at once, while her stomach had begun to churn, the pain her bones and her skin began to fall away.

Thank you, m'lady. What on earth happened?" Ehuang's usually fiery tone had been somewhat extinguished by the ordeal. "Am I ill?

No..." said the kind woman as she began mixing and crushing mysterious herbs (and to Ehuang's disgust, a full dead fish...bones and all). "I'm afraid...something's happened to the Xiang.

The shock of what she said hit Ehuang like a frozen blanket thrown from the ceiling at her, physically freezing her limbs in place. Her stomach had stopped churning simply for the fact that it had sunk within her. "Something happened to my river?" She said, her voice first filled with concern - although now, a hardened edge had begun to creep in. Pounding on the stairs below signified that another set of feet had begun to rush someone upward, and it were exactly who Ehuang had hoped it would be as the door to her room flung open.

Shui! she cried out, the anger she had been threatening to pull down within herself giving way to relief and fear. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she reached out for her twin brother, who had been clearly roused from sleep in the temple just next door. "Shui it's horrible...something...something must have happened to River Xiang!

She pulled her face from her brother's tunic to see a puzzling -disallowed_word- evidently) filling in and pinching off the flow of River Xiang in order to build a new set of lofts. The image illuminated by the moonlight burned into Ehuang's eyes, enraging her.

A swell had begun to build in the river, the banks suddenly becoming soggy as the sloshing sounds of unexpected water rolled in. She thought about the people she had so generously allowed to build on her banks, pollute her waters, take from her body. A firm hand on her shoulder made her spin around, meeting the eyes of her brother. No, there was no mistaking it in the moonlight - they glinted with a hint of coldness she had seen before on occasion.

Don't you see that this is just progress?" he pressed. "Eventually, they will move beyond the cities. They will build buildings, roads and bridges even over you. You are not special, Ehuang. They have to do this to grow and to develop. I know what you believe to be true...

Believe to be true?" she spat. It wasn't on accident that the river had begun to swell deeper, the trickling banks becoming louder. "What is this believe to be true, brother? Are you not my twin? Is this not our river?

Shui just stared ahead at the river that had begun to swell, and Ehuang forced the river to grow and to rage. She felt dizzy and sick, the pain from before and the disgust she felt for her own brother clouded her judgement. Water roared as just-laid soil, shoveled from somewhere else and then dumped right into the bank, began to sweep downriver toward the sea. Her attendants looked at one another and then at the two in alarm, and activity had broken out in the housing complex on the banks. People began to scramble, faces pressed against the glass of the windows to watch the newly laid concrete and thousands of dollars of man hours get swept away. Finally breaking his stoic reprieve, Shui grabbed his sister's shoulders and shook her roughly.

Stop it!" he demanded, watching the banks of the river erode closer and closer to the foundation of the complex.

I'm sorry." She said coldly, her face twisted in concentration. "Is this what I believe to be in control of?

Ehuang!" Shui looked alarmed at the river as it swept ever faster. "Please...these people don't deserve this.

Ehuang pushed past his brother, stepping roughly into her litter and signaling for her attendants to hoist her up without her brother in tow. "No...I suppose they don't deserve to be put underwater." she admitted, although the river did not slow. Her attendants rose to their feet, as she perched on their shoulders. "However, I will not stop it. You will have to admit to yourself what you are and what you can do if you want that to happen.

The newspaper article the next day covered all of the damages done to the building that night due to freak flooding of the Xiang river, although the engineers swore they would return to work the following week to re-evaluate the costly expansion. It was a shame what happened to the complex, swept away like that, but at least no one was hurt. Someone claimed that a man wearing old fashioned clothes ran inside to warn the inhabitants of certain doom - although no one got his name. Despite himself, despite all the running he tried to do - Shui would never outrun his rights, and Ehuang would never outrun her own anger, both of the twins despite themselves.

[characteresque]

Character Lookup: Miseria

Miseria's Lookup on Characteresque

Miseria's Lookup on Neopets

There are worlds where lines are drawn not in the sand, but in stone - each person is either good or bad, with not an in between. Miseria grew up in this world; one of many sons branching from a prominent figure in the world’s oldest Light Coven family. He is a Van Yorke - and with the name came great strength and pride. Like all Van Yorke children, he was expected to begin cultivating his basic Light abilities far younger than any other child from other families; and then to begin creating new and dangerous new powers before his debut.

The debut of a new Van Yorke teenager brought attention from the entire coven, including lesser families who were in awe of the old bloodline. This day, should the young man or woman bring pleasure to the eldest of their family lineage, a young Van Yorke would expect to walk out of the meeting with the key to a new abode and a partner from which to start their own families with. Miseria was no exception of the excitement and hope of an excellent debut - and at the end of that afternoon, after a wild and vicious display of his special abilities granted to him by sacrifice and hard work; he walked to his new home knowing who he would be sleeping next to that night.

Miseria would spend the next few years of his life abiding by every single dark desire of his family. Being powerful and feared, now even more so when paired with his mate whom flaunted a strange control of his powers, he earned quite a reputation of being a "fixer" - someone sent about to repair any perceived slights against a family likely to gain notoriety. One day, he received the orders to retrieve his rogue half-brother that had fled the family in disgrace, and now spent his time gallivanting about covens and spreading lies about dearly kept Van Yorke secrets.

Once out in the world for the first time, Miseria was faced with the harsh realization that his suspicions about his family and his life were true. He wasn’t stupid, of course, he knew what the Van Yorkes were and what set them apart from all other witches. After all, for all these generations since the discovery of magic, the Van Yorke coven had only grown in power and wealth solely because of these less than savory traits. They were, as his mother put it to him one rainy afternoon, the sacrifice they must all make in order to be the most powerful family in the world. Of course, she had tried to drown him in the family fountain just hours prior to that conversation, but she had her own cross to bear. No, Miseria met with his half brother Moros - and when the time came that unfolded the perfect opportunity to kill the man that had struck such confused turmoil in his perfectly ordinary life…he turned the tides of the battle and fled with him instead.

[characteresque]

Miseria's Character Page

It was far better than he expected. A very practiced look of delicately raised eyebrows and narrowed eyelids washed over him. His sharp eyes wandered to his half-sister, who mirrored his look of absolute scandal.

"You want us to find Moros? There must be someone far more expendable-" she began.

"Not says your grandfather." Their father looked right through them. "You leave tomorrow."

Miseria lead his sister out of the sitting room. The situation had been decided after all - clearly, there is no argument. When he finally released her hand, her touch had left bright red indentations in his palms that made him feel lightheaded.

"Oh, honestly, stop your crying." he droned, unlocking their home's front door. The idea of tracking down Moros (his half brother) filled him with delight and fear. The excitement of leaving the Van Yorke coven made his heart throb in his chest, screaming for release.

When he turned back to her, she stood inches from his face - pupils narrowed to pinholes, almost unfocused. He could feel his body react to the familiar look by habit; she drew out of him a deep electric hum, the feeling of his energy seeping into the soil all around him as she flaunted her absolute control over his powers.

"If I didn't know any better." she whispered, her breath hot and far too close. "I would think you're excited to leave."

With his face utterly expressionless in the wake of her insanity, Miseria said the words he so knew she desperately wanted to hear. "Why on earth would I want to leave, if it meant leaving you behind?"