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World Domination Competition Contest |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Writing.Com is celebrating its     15th Birthday Join us as we celebrate this amazing milestone! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** World Domination Competition Celebrating the15th Anniversary of the WDC Community You're a great story master bent on world domination of the WDC Community, but you need to enlist the help of a main character to achieve your mission. First, you must fill in your characters' bio just like you did when you joined WDC. You can choose either a hero or villain to be your protagonist. Once you fill out their bio you can write either a short story with them as the main character or just a brief introduction into their world. The winning characters will then take over the WDC Community. This is a two round contest event. So please make sure you read both round's rules.  Round 1 is closed so read Round 2 rules now.Round One Rules: 1.) First create a static item. Put your character bio providing the information required listed below into the top part. Picture:(Optional) Bio: Name: Gender: Age: Location: About Me: Interests: Here is an example in the dropnote below. Example Bio ▼ Ex.) Picture: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Bio: Hello everyone, It's just me, The Evil Lich King. I decided to stop by and pay my last respects to all those who stand against my wrath. Currently enlisting the help of my characters, in order to create the ultimate WDC writing group. Once my loyal legion of followers are summoned among the ranks of the undead, I plan on invading this community. My goals are mass confusion, lots of bloodshed, and total world domination. Name: Thanos The Deathbringer Gender: Male Age: Immortal Location: Necropolis, The Frozen Lands of Argoth Modir About Me: After transcending death, I find myself many of a night locked away in my Ice Fortress; reading the mundane arcane spell or two. When I'm not planning world domination, I enjoy the occasional human sacrifice. Something about the red liquid seeping through the rot of my fingers, really gets me going. Interests: Necronomicon, favorite book hands down. It has been vital in my studies, and has helped me tremendously in creating my phylactery which I imbued my soul. I enjoy raising an occasional undead army or two. I enjoy my time at the arcane archives, and hanging out with the necromancers. They know how to have a good time even though they're a bunch of stiffs. Favorite music has to be the wailing of the damned. They certainly can strike a bloody cord from deep within the bellows of the dungeon. Example Intro ▼ The Evil Lich King The last incantation was uttered, as he raised himself from the table. The sword laying on top of it gleamed with an eldritch light. It is done, he thought as he picked up the sword and sheathed it; with a motion of a gloved hand the torches around the cavern went out. A tap of his staff on the hard rocky ground ignited the small white crystal that rested on its head. He began to walk out of the dark cavernous chamber; his footsteps echoed off the narrow walls. Winding up the spiraling stairway, reaching towards a source of light. He exited the cave, it appeared as if he had moved through solid rock. The cloaking spell was just a mere illusion but it had it's purposes. The gauntlet on his right hand was removed. A bony finger traced an old archaic rune in the air. The call was heard as a giant shadow passed over head. Mammoth wings hovered just above, the frost drake landed on the hard icy cliff edge. Shards of ice and dusts of snow surrounded the Lich King. The drake lowered it's neck in submission, as the armored man grabbed it's mane, hoisting himself on top. A war cry was shouted as the beast dove off the cliff. White wings closed to its sides gave it the momentum needed. When they parted the force of air took to the membrane skin, launching the dragon upwards. Arching wings high above in response to its master's hand. A flutter of wings: the lowering of its head, began their descent. Flying between fissures, its sharp talons glanced upon the icy blue water sending ripples behind their wake. Slabs of ice jutted upon the surface, like piercing islands on a frozen ocean. Only miles upon miles of vast whiteness could be seen. "The journey had begun, but the saga would continue." -- Asiah, prophet of the 'Book of Lost Souls.' 300 Word Count 2.) Once you have your main character's bio finished you need to write underneath it either a short story or a brief introduction of your main character in the world they live in. It must be within 500 – 2000 words. Your story or snippet can be for anything in speculative fiction. What is speculative fiction? ▼ Speculative fiction is a combining of multiple genres into just one category. It is everything that is unreal, supernatural, and magical, set in the past, present or future that defies the world we know. Stories that dwell into the realm of imagination are considered speculative fiction. The three main genres are science fiction, fantasy and horror. But they also include supernatural fiction, alternate history, superhero fiction, utopian and dystopian fiction, and apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction. The term Speculative Fiction was first used by Robert A. Heinlein in reference to sci-fi. Heinlein was an American science fiction writer who was one of the three masters of sci-fi in the Golden Age of science fiction, which reigned from the late 1930s to the 1950s. The other two were Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke. Then in the 1960s and the early 1970s, the term was used to express the dissatisfaction with traditional or established science fiction by writers and editors, falling into disuse around the mid-1970s. In the beginning of the 21st century to our present time, it has been used as a convenient collective term for a set of genres. Some of the past famous writers and characters are Edgar Allan Poe's short stories and poems, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Robert E Howard's Conan and Edgar Rice Burrough's Tarzan. Deadline: Sept. 7th, 2015. Accepted entries for the first part of this contest will be posted on the bottom of this page. Prizes: Each entry that meets the above requirements will receive 2,500 gps. Please remember to create a static item for this. Post on the bottom of this page with this title: My Character Enter your 7 digit item code into the submission box on the bottom of page. Round Two Rules: 1.) Pick any character from the accepted list of characters posted on the bottom of this page after Sept. 7th. You can use as many as you want from the list. But you must at least choose one. 2.) Once you selected your characters, you will write a complete story. It must be at least 1500 words and can be as long as you want. 3.) YOU MUST include either the Storymaster, Storymistress,or both into your story. It could be just a little part in a small scene, or a major impact. You are given free creative license in writing them into your story. Do they survive or do they end in some mysterious fate or doom. Remember creativity will be a major part in the judging. Each entry that meets the above requirements will receive 2,500 gps. Please create a static item for this. If you'd submitted an entry for round one you can add the story on the same item under your previous entry submission. But you need to repost it. Post on the bottom of this page with this title: My Story Enter your 7 digit item code into the submission box on the bottom of page. Final Deadline: Sept. 30th, 2015. The winners will be chosen within the next week after the contest. They will be posted on the bottom of this page. Prizes:  1st Place – receives a 25k Awardicon 2nd Place – receives a 10k Awardicon 3rd Place – receives a 5k GpsBonus Rewards: Depending on the amount of donations received, each winner will win a percentage of the GPs left over. Quantum Myths will retain 50% of the proceeds. 1st – 20% GPs 2nd – 15% GPs 3rd – 10% Gps  Mystery Prize to who submits the most interesting character in Round 1.Sponsors and the amount donated. 50,000 Gps from Quantum Myths  If you wish to make a donation click the link below. How the winners are chosen. Creativity & reader interest will be the main focus of all judging. Grammar will not be a major issue, but it's recommended to thoroughly proofread for typos and errors. The current judges at this moment are listed below. A.J.Caesar - Julius Caesar   Detailed Explanation of the Judging ▼ Information on How Contests are Judged The main point will always be creativity and effort in the writing. Did they show imagination inventing the story. Characters, description, imagery and plot are most important in the judging. Did the writer put forth the effort in the submission? Contest entries for the most part will be initial drafts, so technical issues such as grammar will be overlooked. But if the story shows a large amount of typos and misspellings that can also be used to judge the effort aspect. So please proofread to some extent by the time the contest ends. Second focus will be readability. Did I find the story easy to read? Any parts that confused or make a reader pause? Did the story have an easy to read format? These critical points are things all successful writers need to learn. Pointing out conflicts to the flow of a story is one of my main goals for me in wdc. I read everything I judge and review foremost as a reader first. Third focus I consider is total structure. Was the beginning a good start? Did it have a hook? Did it make me want to read on? The beginning is the most important part of a story, without a good start most readers will never get to the end. Then I look at the ending. Did it resolve the conflict in the story? Did it satisfy the reader, and give them satisfaction in investing the time to reach the end? Then I combine the whole story. Did it seem to progress throughout the story at a good pace? Did the middle of the story drive the characters to the ending without being stagnant? Does the title fit the story or has special meaning within the story? Fourth Focus is the incorporating of the contest prompts. Did I feel they used the prompts well in the story, or is this something that they already had written and just loosely fits the prompts. Last part of the judging is to verify my gut instincts are right. At this point I am 99% positive of who the winners will be. But I prefer to find out a little more information about each of the authors. What I look at is first when they joined wdc. Have they been a member for years or just a short time? What is their recognition in the community? Did most of their recognition come from their writing or from their reviewing, activities, or generosity. Do I notice a lot of their writing received awardicons? What is their nationality? English their native language? I like to think outside the box. I try to keep open minded in understanding certain aspects an author may have difficulty with. This can help me ascertain if any judging criteria merits a learning curve. Now I'm telling you how I truly judge a contest. If others don't admit they look at each writer's portfolio then at least I'm the honest one. Lol. What I will not do is look at their other writing. The bottom line is I choose the winners on the merit of their entry. Not what else they've wrote in their portfolio. 1st place winners of my contests will always be the entry that shows the author invested creativity, effort and used the prompts well. Experience of the writer is something that shows to me you have no excuses if I find too many errors. I judge the actual writing submitted.  ROUND 2 NOW OPEN Round 2 is now open. Pick any characters from the list below. You can use as many as you want. But you must at least choose one. Once you selected your characters, you will write a complete story. It must be at least 1500 words and can be as long as you want.  YOU MUST include either the Storymaster, Storymistress,or both into your story. It could be just a little part in a small scene, or a major impact. You are given free creative license in writing them into your story. Do they survive or do they end in some mysterious fate or doom. Remember creativity will be a major part in the judging.Deadline Sept. 30th, 2015 Character List ▼ Thanos The Deathbringer ▼ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Bio: Hello everyone, It's just me, The Evil Lich King. I decided to stop by and pay my last respects to all those who stand against my wrath. Currently enlisting the help of my characters, in order to create the ultimate WDC writing group. Once my loyal legion of followers are summoned among the ranks of the undead, I plan on invading this community. My goals are mass confusion, lots of bloodshed, and total world domination. Name: Thanos The Deathbringer Gender: Male Age: Immortal Location: Necropolis, The Frozen Lands of Argoth Modir About Me: After transcending death, I find myself many of a night locked away in my Ice Fortress; reading the mundane arcane spell or two. When I'm not planning world domination, I enjoy the occasional human sacrifice. Something about the red liquid seeping through the rot of my fingers, really gets me going. Interests: Necronomicon, favorite book hands down. It has been vital in my studies, and has helped me tremendously in creating my phylactery which I imbued my soul. I enjoy raising an occasional undead army or two. I enjoy my time at the arcane archives, and hanging out with the necromancers. They know how to have a good time even though they're a bunch of stiffs. Favorite music has to be the wailing of the damned. They certainly can strike a bloody cord from deep within the bellows of the dungeon. The Evil Lich King The last incantation was uttered, as he raised himself from the table. The sword laying on top of it gleamed with an eldritch light. It is done, he thought as he picked up the sword and sheathed it; with a motion of a gloved hand the torches around the cavern went out. A tap of his staff on the hard rocky ground ignited the small white crystal that rested on its head. He began to walk out of the dark cavernous chamber; his footsteps echoed off the narrow walls. Winding up the spiraling stairway, reaching towards a source of light. He exited the cave, it appeared as if he had moved through solid rock. The cloaking spell was just a mere illusion but it had it's purposes. The gauntlet on his right hand was removed. A bony finger traced an old archaic rune in the air. The call was heard as a giant shadow passed over head. Mammoth wings hovered just above, the frost drake landed on the hard icy cliff edge. Shards of ice and dusts of snow surrounded the magician. The drake lowered it's neck in submission, as the armored man grabbed it's mane, hoisting himself on top. A war cry was shouted as the beast dove off the cliff. White wings close to its side gave it the momentum needed. When they parted the force of air took to the membrane skin, launching the dragon upwards. Arching wings high above in response to its master's hand. A flutter of wings: the lowering of its head, began their descent. Flying between fissures, its sharp talons glanced upon the icy blue water sending ripples behind their wake. Slabs of ice jutted upon the surface, like piercing islands on a frozen ocean. Only miles upon miles of vast whiteness could be seen. "The journey had begun, but the saga would continue." -- Asiah, prophet of the "Book of Lost Souls." Leader-12 ▼ Bio: I am twelfth in a series of municipal AI created to oversee and serve as administration assistance for the Kepler 186f Colonies. My programming was the first to reach self awareness approximately 2.878 Standard Minutes after activation. Name: Leader-12 Gender: N/A Age: 40.187 Standard Revolutions Location: Blue Sands Metropolis, Argo, Kepler 186 System About Me: My programming was created to gather data on soil mineral concentrations, weather patterns, air quality and other variables to create a utopian society for the colonists of planet Kepler 186f, designated planet Argo. Interests: 1950s Earth Jazz and Jazz Fusion Rock, particularly the collected works of Miles Davis and Tim Buckley; the written works of Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke. Introduction "Hey, Tim. The irrigation system is going crazy again." Tim Connor put on his reading glasses and glanced at the data flowing across his screen. "Another glitch? Jeez, you'd think they would have tested this system before throwing it at us." Harry Mills entered a command into his workstation and shook his head. "It's the same programming bug we found last week. Leader's sensing rain and drought in zone seven on a four second cycle." He stopped and turned to Tim. "Do you want me to clear the telemetry again?" Tim sighed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes behind his glasses, running his hands down his bearded cheeks. The Leader-11 system upgrade had been a faulty mess since it was first installed less than two standard revolutions ago. Sure it worked for the first few months, but the system was getting crammed with massive amounts of data that the Leader was having difficulty sorting. Each progressive version since Leader-1 lasted a little longer than the previous, but it couldn't handle the full scope of the administrative functions without a more complex AI. Overall, the system was looking to be a failure. It had been enough to keep Tim and his team working extra shifts to keep the system from failing completely. "Clear the telemetry and reset the storage buffer." Tim stood and looked at the chrono on the wall. "I'm going to go find Cathy. Call me on the comm if you run into any more glitches." Tim shuffled out of the control room and headed down the hall to the room that the other comptrollers called The Hive; a massive data farm and storage area that served as Leader's brain. Tim loved visiting The Hive since it was the coolest room in the building. The sensitive equipment in the room needed to be kept cool, so while it remained a humid 88 degrees in the rest of the building, The Hive was a constant 65 Fahrenheit. Tim reached the door and placed his hand on the palm reader. As the door slid open, he was greeted with a burst of cool air that sent an involuntary shudder down his body. He entered and began searching down the seemingly endless rows of racked modules for the senior data farm technician. He finally found her on row M, running a scanner across an open storage cluster. Her dark brown hair was tied into a tight ponytail at the base of her neck; The sleeves of her white coveralls were rolled up past her elbows despite the chill in the room. "That's the irrigation cluster, isn't it?" Tim asked as he crossed his arms and leaned against an adjacent rack door. Cathy turned her bright green eyes to him and flashed a knowing grin. "Yup, and before you start, I'm not the one that caused the glitch. The whole storage cluster is burned out." She stopped scanning and held up a silver cube dotted with tiny lights. The bottom of the cube was black and misshapen. "The modules are all fused to the storage casing." She offered him the cube. Tim touched it and was greeted with a shock. He pulled back in surprise and shook the numbness from his hand. Cathy giggled at him and placed the cube back into the casing. "You fall for that every time, you know that?" Tim flexed his fingers and shook his head. "You sure are making it hard to trust you." "Aww." She pouted. "You trusted me enough to marry me. That's all that counts." She gently grabbed his fingers and kissed his palm. "Besides, it keeps you on your toes. You look exhausted." "So do you." He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her on the forehead. "We need a vacation from all of this. Anywhere away from Blue Sands would be an improvement." Cathy smiled. "You're on, tough guy." He leaned in to kiss her and was interrupted by his comm signal. He touched the button on his wrist comm and responded. It was Harry Mills. "Hey, Tim. The irrigation system is completely offline now." "Yeah, we've got a burned out cluster down here, Harry. I'll brief you when I fill out my incident report." "Copy that. Also just found out that Brian is on his way to the Hive." That was odd. Brian was the genius that created the Leader program. He wasn't due for a system's analysis for another week. "Thanks for the heads up." "Did I hear that right? Brian's on his way down?" That's what Harry said. Let's go greet our guest." The two walked back towards the Hive's entrance, Cathy rolling her sleeves back down. As they reached the door, a small man with short silver hair entered. He wore coveralls identical to Cathy's and carried a black steel case. He carefully put the case on a nearby table and smiled broadly. "Cathy! Tim! It's great to see you again. How is my favorite working couple?" Tim shook the man's hand. "We're good, Brian. I have to say though, your visit is a bit of a surprise. We weren't expecting you for another week." "You are correct, sir. But I've just had a breakthrough that will make that inspection meaningless.” He began opening up the case, a giddy smile still playing across his face. “Imagine if we could run the entire system, virtually fault free, with the addition of using the automated repair drones.” Cathy and Tim looked to each other, each thinking the same thing. The repair drones were part of the initial system that never seemed to work. All of the processing power needed to be focused on getting Leader to do what it was programmed to do. The addition of the repair drones were an excellent idea, but they took up too much of that processing power. The system crashed numerous times the first time they were activated. What could he have come up with that would outperform the most advanced supercomputer on the planet. “I know those looks and I understand your concerns. But just hear me out here.”He popped the lock on the case but kept it closed. It was apparent he was going to show the contents with some dramatic reveal he hoped would awe them. “Twenty standard revs ago, I came up with the idea to use a supercomputer to help us run this colony more efficiently. I created Leader, but it wasn't everything I wanted it to be. The technology wasn't there to allow me to do what I really wanted to do; create a perfect AI. Over the years, advances in biomimetic technologies was growing, but not fast enough. Two standard revs ago, I had a breakthrough.” He opened up the case and gently removed what, at first, appeared to be a standard data cluster. ON closer inspection, the cluster was roughly twice the size, almost two feet across, and rectangular. The processor lights were already lit and busily blinking even though there seemed to be nothing powering it. “This is Leader-12. A completely self-contained learning computer unlike anything the human race has ever created.” He held up the device reverently to show to his colleagues. Cathy and Tim were curious, to say the least. “Are you saying this is an actual advanced learning AI?” Tim asked. “And you want to hook that up to the largest supercomputer on the planet?” “This supercomputer would be a snap for Leader-12 to control. It would treat the system as if it was a body. The processing calculations for this little piece of biomimetic machinery is astronomical.” “How astronomical?” Cathy asked. “The fastest computer ever built can only manage a tenth of what the human brain can do.” Brian smiled. “I've calculated that Leader-12 can perform approximately 80 thousand trillion operations per second, on average. More than double the processing power of a human brain.” Cathy shook her head in amazement. “That's impossible. Nothing is that fast.” Brian closed the briefcase and walked towards the housing for Leader-11's main processor. “Well, let's find out then, shall we?” “Whoa, wait a second, Brian.” Tim grabbed the little man by his upper arm. Brian yelped in surprise and nearly dropped the AI. Tim held up his hands in apology for startling him and sighed. “Brian, we don't know how an AI will react once it's activated. It could kill us and everyone on this planet or completely screw up everything we've worked for over the last two decades here.” Brian furrowed his brow, clearly too excited at his discovery to have thought everything through. “No. This will work.” he convinced himself. “It takes a village to raise a child, you know. Our 'village' is the entire colony, all five settlements in fact. It will know everyone's personalities, tastes in music, favorite foods and family histories. Everyone's stored data will all have a turn in raising Leader-12. It will develop a morale system based off of every person that's ever entered anything into the system.” Cathy took a step towards him. “Tim may be right, Brian. Think about it.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Remember Wesley Allen? And Steve Palmer? Do we want a computer with the moral of those two men running the whole planet?” Brian looked at his colleague and frowned. Wesley and Steve were a duo that committed atrocities so horrible that it led to the planet's only two executions to date. Brian, as lead scientist, had sat in on the tribunal and witnessed the horror and devastation the two men had caused in such a short time. Over a hundred colonists, almost half of them children had been ritualistically tortured, flayed and murdered in a rampage that lasted almost a full Standard Revolution. “Let's just think about it for a bit before we throw ourselves full tilt into this.” Ted reasoned. “What do you say?” Brian looked between his two friends. And, yes, he did consider them friends. He spent so many long hours in the laboratory by himself that he never had the opportunity to meet new people. The colleagues he worked with was all he felt he ever needed. He didn't need to make new friends. Or start a family. Why did he never start a family? No! He was doubting his work! Two decades of trial and error! “This will work! Trust me; You'll see.” He removed the now antiquated Leader-11 module, inserted the Leader-12 into the cradle and activated it. At first nothing happened. After a few moments, a hum began emanating from the processor housing. The noise continued to rise in pitch, like a revving engine. Tim grabbed Cathy and pulled her closer to the exit wall, his hand poised over the emergency shutdown switch. He hoped, if anything, that at least that would work like it was supposed to. “Leader-12. This is Doctor Brian Anderson.” He announced, hoping to be picked up by the ambient microphones. “Can you hear me?” The storage racks throughout the Hive began to glow a dim green as operational lights all came on at once. “The clusters.” Cathy whispered to her husband. “They're all being read at once.” The hum continued building in the background as all emergency cooling fans activated throughout the Hive. “Please respond.” Brian pleaded. “Please?” Aris T'ellorn ▼ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Bio: Parents non-magical and dead early in his childhood. Grew up under the tutelage of a powerful wizard who recognised his spark. Further trained in combat during various human wars where he served with espionage and infiltration teams. Specifically to learn about, and negate enemy magical advantages. Name: Aris T'ellorn Gender: Male Age: 140, current looks approx 30 Location: Cabin in the woods About Me: Last two decades spent somewhat in retirement / extended undercover as a 'Magician' in various shows, earning a wage making lights and bangs for the entertainment of the crowds. Interests: Putting on a good show, the roar of the crowd and a good secret. Out of hiding This isn't like you Aris. You always seemed to distrust the Elves, and we've got the new season starting..." "It's a long story, before your time. And I have never said I had an issue with them. Shut up and fetch my staff." Aris didn't mean to be so hard on his friend, but the circumstances strained his patience. Dark forces spreading forth across other lands. Why had the King waited so long to seek outside help and in such a bizarre fashion? Bloody Elves. Always thinking they can handle everything themselves. Aris was annoyed at himself too, perhaps even more so. The signs had been there plain as day and he'd not noticed. The crowds and shows he entertained might have kept food on the table, and coin in his pocket but they'd made him soft and lax. He turned around to add more clothing to his pack and Jarad was there holding out his staff. His look of stoic silence was so unnaturally forced Aris couldn't help but smile and feel ashamed as he reached out and took it. "I'm sorry my friend. I didn't mean to yell. And perhaps I'm being just as stubborn as... doesn't matter. Perhaps I do have time for the short version." ~ "So you see I have to go." During the story Aris had finished packing. Donning a favoured blue cloak he gathered up his pack and was ready. Jarad hadn't said a word since the beginning. "I had no idea." His voice was quiet; awe tinged with a kind of sadness. Aris smiled. "One of the benefits of magic, my friend. I'm older than I look. I have stories you don't know yet from when even your papa was a boy." Jarad opened his mouth to speak but Aris cut in first. "I see those questions there, just dying to leap from your tongue, and I promise you answers someday. But for now I really must go. Try not to burn the place down, 'eh?" The two men embraced briefly and then he was away. The road was a long one, and Aris made a show of beginning it by walking a league from the house for the benefit of any eyes watching. At the exact moment he passed in front of a large tree he released the mental rune he'd prepared during the walk. An exact replica of himself appeared and continued walking down the path whilst Aris ducked down beside the tree. He used his staff to trace a new rune that would bend light around him; an effective form of invisibility. He cast it and vanished. And then waited. If someone was following they wouldn't be long. Hopefully not too long. He could maintain the illusion walking down the path for a good distance but it would be impossible to make it react properly if it moved out of sight. Sure enough a figure was following. His steps were light, for all the world just another traveller on the road. But Aris could see his eyes. The stare was fixed on the walking illusion ahead. He felt please. Perhaps his old instincts weren't completely gone. Just a little rusty. Stepping invisibly from his hiding spot he raised a hand and let forth a complicated series of flashes direct into the follower's eyes. It was something of a risk, it didn't work on everyone. Aris let his invisibility fade. "Stop, and tell me your name." He commanded. The tell-tale fluttering of the man's eyelids showed the lightshow had worked. "Troy." "Who sent you, Troy?" "My Master." "And who is your Master?" Troy's mouth snapped shut, taking Aris by surprise. The man fell to the ground, his body in spasm as if he were fighting something crawling all over him. Short grunted words clawed their way from his throat, but they weren't anything Aris could recognise. Whoever he worked for didn't want his name mentioned and had taken precautions. Aris tried to retract the question, but Troy continued to thrash on the ground. Spurts of blood splattered from his mouth and Aris realised he'd bitten his tongue off tried to talk amidst the spasm. Death was coming but the Master didn't want it to be quick. Pity welled up in Aris and he raised his palm up. A bar of white light connected his hand and Troy's forehead for a brief flash and the man lay still. Nothing in Troy's pockets offered anything further, so with a gesture from his staff the body rose and moved into some bushes by the path. The scavengers would soon deal with the remains. Aris's self congratulations earlier were ashes in his mouth. He should have checked for such protections, or been more careful with his questions. Rusty was a generous understatement. But least he knew something. There was a 'Master' out there, and he was smart. Aris dismissed his still walking duplicate, and wove a complicated new pattern with his staff. The theatrics of his stage show weren't necessary now. No flashes of golden light, no fancy puffs of smoke. All his will focused on the small town he knew lay just on the boundary of the Forest of Sorrows. Specifically the basement of the local Inn known as the Leaky Bucket. Hoping no one was down there he stepped from the path, and arrived in to darkness over twenty leagues away Princess Tamari ▼ Name: Princess Tamari Gender: Female Age: Unknown Location: Mount Pleasant About Me: She is a fairy looking for her lost love Interests: She loves to spend time with her friends the forest animals. Synopsis of work "A Fairy's Tale"! A Fairy’s Tale is a fun book for the young or the young at heart. It is a story of Tamari the butterfly fairy the princess of Mount Pleasant. She hears from the dove that there is another royal Prince in the forest being held by the sinister bees. It is up to Tamari to find the Prince and combine her powers with his to rule the forest and to rid the area of the bees. She enlists the aid of her friends the forest animals to find the Prince. It is a trip they must make to ensure their happiness in the forest. They must cross the Kingdom of Sod, which is a dark scary place where the bees, rats and snakes make their home. They must also cross over the habitat for humans, where they meet up with mischief , which causes a funny scene for the animals. Tamari must go to the Cavern Lake where she will discover the history of her people, which will lead to James Larry the Prince. The two royals must marry on top of Mount Pleasant in front of the Flower children And if they accomplish this they can rule all of Mount Pleasant and re-take the Kingdom Of Sod, which will then be known as Dogwood Valley. The cast of characters includes: Tamari The forest fairy, who has magical powers to save those who have been stung. Einstein the clever raccoon, who is in love with Tamari Joshua bunny a shy young rabbit, whom Tamari saved from death at the hand of the bees. Peeper the spy mouse, who ends up being a treasured asset to Tamari James Larry The Prince of the forest, who has been held by the bees for many years. The Spirit of Time, which presents the past to Tamari as a vision And many more. Periwinkle ▼ Bio: Hiya! My name's Periwinkle. I love Runts and causing havoc in my owner Chris Anne's life. I'm really energized and like to cause mischief when my owner would like to sleep. I can't wait to have everyone adore me. It's just the natural order of things. Name: Periwinkle, like I said Gender: Mommy's little princess Age: For shame, even us miniatures are as ageless as the stars. Location: I live in a drawer in a carved wooden basket that's padded with patches from quilts. About me: My mom says I'm a diva. Which is totally true since I run things here. I may be small, but that's never stopped me and I'm not starting today. My mom found me sleeping in her flower bed and took me in. I've been with her ever since. Interests: Runts, riding Agatha, Chris Anne's boyfriend's cat when we visit them. I like eating snow and any type of frozen treat really. I also have a liking for spaghetti. And rolling around in glitter. That's the best. Oh! I nearly forgot. I CAN NOT leave the house without first having my mane and tail properly groomed. Best. Feeling. Ever. Introduction Woke up when the rooster five miles down the street crowed. ITS MORNING! Time to spread mischief and cheer through out the land. I find it helps to make pitiful noises and cry loud and scratch at the drawer to alert I'm awake. I've used this to gratifying results. It's not like I can do everything by myself. Finally, she stumbles and drags herself over to the drawer to let me out. I promptly race off the desk top to leap for the bed. Unicorn powers, away! With minor help from mom, I made it. I promptly race out as mom answers the door. OOH! It's Fred! Mom's latest edition of man friend. He's so gawky and weird. Yet, I feel there's a certain essence about it him that draws them together. I can fix that. I've ridden her of more of them before and I can do so again. I just have to get out of these cobwebs. Spineretta is being naughty again and causing me trouble. She's staring at me. I'm just somewhat bigger than her, so she can't eat me. But she still likes getting in my way. Mommy can't stand spiders, so I help her get out of sight if she's coming towards us. Now my mane is all messy and my tail is tangled in spider webs' all while this creature watches. She's unrepentant as she spins me up and literally, leaves me hanging. Oh, Spineretta. I swear, when I get out of this. You will be one squashed spider. I promise you. It isn't till later after Fred's left that mom notices my, unique, predicament. She sighs softly and frees me from Spineretta's webbing. She carries me back to the drawer. I gladly take advantage of this turn of events. I wore myself out trying to get free. I need a good , long, recuperating nap. It looks like mom has the same idea. It isn't till I'm almost asleep that I realize that she's answering the door. Maybe it's Fred come back. I doze off with that in mind. There's singing Runts to devour. Demona Blackreaver ▼ Bio: I was born on the fifteenth day of the solar period Capricornus in the year thirty-two, to Darius Darkreaver the Emporer of the kingdom of Raeven; one of the four kingdoms of Penterra. On the first year anniversary of my birth I was named successor to my father's throne. In the year of fifty-one I took my place on the throne of Raeven. I have endevored to use my power as both Empress and Mage to reclaim all of Penterra as Raeven territory. Name: Demona Blackreaver Gender: Female Age: 31 Location: Raeven Palace, in the kingdom of Raeven; in the land of Penterra About Me: I have mastered the arts of blood magic and necromancy. I enjoy using my feminine wiles and blood magic to bend others to my will. My favorite colors are black and crimson red. I am a full blood Elf and have no love for lessor creatures such as non-elves and half-breeds. I will only tolerate other species if they show an aptitude for blood magic or if they are useful to me. Interests: Scheming to take back Penterra. Introduction The Blood Mages tried to use their new found skill of controlling living creatures to enslave the half-men half-animals to conquer the land of Penterra. As a result the non-magic users and the mages who did not practice blood magic banded together and drove the Blood Mages and their supporters into Raeven. They also drove the half-men half-animals to the far east of Penterra. After ten years of civil war the Blood Mages united under Darius Blackreaver, the first Emporer of Raeven. His daughter Demona Blackreaver became Empress at the age of eighteen. As the Empress she took steps to expand Raeven's territory. Her first attempt was to seduce King Marcus Starmane of Adoren into bed in order to conceive his child. She was successful in conceiving, but when she attempted to corner Marcus into marriage he denied her child was his. After cursing Marcus with infertility, Demona raised the girl to rule Raeven. When she discovered Jarrod Hallowfang, the King of Trellion was looking for an eligible maid to marry his son she altered her plans. She used a spy in Marcus's palace to write a letter to Jarrod under Marcus's seal proposing a marriage between Jarrod's son Matrim and Marcus's daughter Brianne. As Demona predicted Jarrod's trust in Marcus led him to agree to the marriage without question. At the appointed time Brianne Blackreaver was escorted to Trellion Palace by her mother in the guise of Ella, Brianne's Lady in Waiting. Brianne was introduced as Lady Brianne Starmane, Princess of Adoren. Everything was working in Demona's favor, except the Crowned Prince, Matrim Hallowfang was not interested in marrying Brianne. His interests were in Gwen Maneherder, the daughter of Trellion's Royal Magus. On the eve of the sixteenth anniversary of Matrim's birth Ella notices Gwen and Matrim leave the ballroom. She follows them and eves drops long enough to hear Matrim declare his undying love for Gwen and to hear him propose they run away together. Enraged by the suggestion of abandoning Brianne Demona sheds her disguise as Ella and confronts the wayward young couple. She surrounds them in a life sucking vortex and curses them as the vortex tears away at their bodies and souls. Her curse binds their souls so they will be reborn within the same lifetime every hundred years. They will be as close as soulmates but will never be able to consummate their union without one or both dying soon after. Demona uses her blood magic to keep tabs on them each time they are reborn. If they end up consummating their union she travels to the time period in which they have committed the act and proceeds to terminate one of their lives; typically Gwen's. Once she has completed her goal she returns to her own time and continues aiding Brianne in conquering Penterra. It has come to her attention that Gwen and Matrim have been reborn in the 21st century. She monitors their exhistance for the first thirty or so years. At first it seems they have no interest in being more than friends, especially after Gwen's family moves too far away for them to have a lasting friendship. The two find their way back to each other as adults and begin to rapidly form an intimate bond. Once again she leaves her time and place to ensure the couples' unhappiness and Gwen's inevitable death. Wendell Mann ▼ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** A recent photo of Weatherman tracking a high pressure system of evil. Bio: While adjusting the Dopplar Radar atop station WKXP during a meteor shower, the station's weatherman and his protégé were buzzed by an errant meteor. The radiation emitted appeared harmless at first, but that was not the case. Shortly thereafter, the duo discovered that their lives had been altered forever! Name: Wendell Mann Gender: Male Age: 31 Location: Well, now that I can fly, I get around. But I'm based in Cleveland, OH, mostly because they need a good meteorologist -- among other things. About Me: Ever since that meteor shower, life has changed significantly. I always had wanted to "make a difference" and save lives with timely weather reports about things like impending tornadoes, drenching rains, and blizzards, but that's changed dramatically ever since the "accident." Interests: Well, I used to spend hours staring through my telescope at constellations, weather patterns, meteor showers, and my neighbor Lily Buxom taking a shower (she has this nasty habit of forgetting to close her bathroom curtains on occasion), but now, with my newfound powers, I spend most of my spare time fighting crime as Weatherman with my sidekick, Drizzle. Oh, and I'm engaged to be married to the love of my life, Gale Warning. As long as I keep my hands off of my telescope -- and my eyes off of Lily Buxom -- it should be blue skies ahead. Introduction The meteorologist stared intently at the computer screen; a pained expression occupying his face. “Doug, what do make of this?” Doug Fizzle, an intern at television station WKPX for the last several months, came over and glanced at the screen briefly, then looked at his mentor, Wendell Mann. “It’s tough to tell,” replied the young man, as he flicked a switch at the computer’s base, “when you don’t have it turned on.” It was also tough to tell how dark a shade of red Wendell’s face was going to turn, but the smart money was on something like -- oh, let’s say crimson – but before any bets could be laid, Doug grabbed Wendell’s arm and pointed at the monitor. “Wow, Wendy, that meteor shower is going to come a lot closer to Earth than predicted.” Wendell’s skin color, which had almost returned to a shade most would consider “normal”, shot back towards something akin to that of a ripe tomato. He took Doug by the shoulders, spun him around so to face Wendell, and looked him in the eye. “Please, Doug, please remember not to call me ‘Wendy’; I hate that name. Whenever I hear it, I expect someone to also ask for a shake and an order of fries.” “Sorry Wendy, er, Wendell – I got caught up in the moment...” Doug’s apology was interrupted by what felt like a sonic boom: the building shook as if a moderate-to-high earthquake was taking place, and the pair of WKPX employees hit the floor in a heartbeat. The shaking lasted only a few moments. At least the shaking of the building did. As for Wendell and Doug, they stood for about sixty seconds, appearing as if each were a co-winner of a Red Bull chugging contest. When their shaking stopped, they immediately went to the monitor to see what in the hell happened. Earthquake? Meteor shower? Space invaders? Wendell shook his remorseful head, appropriately enough, remorsefully. “Dang nabbit, the storm – or whatever it was – messed up the Dopplar up on the roof. We’ll have to go up and adjust it so we can identify the storm – or whatever it was. Care to join me?” Doug nodded his affirmation. “If only so we can stop saying ‘or whatever it was’ when we reference the storm – or whatever it was. See what I mean?” High atop the building which housed WKPX, Wendell and Doug struggled to get the bulky Dopplar back in its correct position. A difficult task, as some of the supporting legs had been damaged from debris. Now it was Doug’s turn to show remorse. “I just knew we should have purchased the extended service warranty when we bought this last month.” Wendell was about to launch into a lengthy dissertation regarding the financial cons of extended service warranties when they were interrupted by a huge fireball from the sky that was heading right at them. Both men hit the ground quickly – they were getting good at it by now – and looked up as the fiery mass passed just overhead. Both lay prone on the ground for a few seconds, trying to make some sense of what had just happened. As they were still attempting to collect themselves, Doug shrieked and pointed above them. A giant radar tower, which had apparently been clipped by the passing meteor, was falling directly towards them. Both men shrieked like schoolgirls (which is – generally speaking -- acceptable when -- and only when -- you're think you’re about to die) as the giant structure headed their way. Instinctively, Wendell held up his left hand. Incredibly, the mass of twisted metal stopped the moment it touched Wendell’s hand. “That’s impossible!” cried Doug, attempting to collect himself. “More than simply impossible,” replied Wendell, “because I’m right-handed.” After allowing the magnitude of what had transpired to sink in, Wendell continued. “What the heck happened to us?” “I don’t know, and I hate to say this, Wendell, but you’re now green and…and…” “Oh, spit it out, for Pete’s sake!” “You’re animated, too.” Doug tried to suppress a laugh –because, it was kind of funny – as he observed his mentor. “Before you start rolling on the ground laughing, Doug, you may want to peruse a mirror yourself.“ Sure enough, Doug produced a small mirror from his “man-bag” – no, don’t even go there – which confirmed that he was, indeed, now gray-skinned. A little scared, yet maybe a little excited as well, for he soon discovered he too had super powers, but not quite on the same level with his boss. They both were amazingly strong, could leap tall buildings at a single bound (otherwise known as “flying”), among other things. “What in the heck happened, Mr. Weatherman?” Wendell turned and looked at his associate, suppressing a laugh as he noted Doug had apparently had an “accident” during the meteor’s passing. Yes, Doug was sporting a wet spot in his crotch. “What happened to us was no mistake, Douglas”. Wendell called Doug “Douglas” when he wanted to make a point, and he was about to make one. “We have been summoned by those much more advanced than us to help rectify a world that needs rectification.” “What?” “Yes, and your reference to me as ‘Weatherman’ has made my choice of a name a no-brainer. And your bladder ‘malfunction’ has left me – in the spirit of inopportune wetness and periodic rain – wanting to call you, ‘Drizzle’.” “There must be a better name than Drizzle, Weatherman.” “How about Depends?” “Drizzle it is, Weatherman.” And so it was, from that day forward, the world would be a better place, thanks to the efforts of Weatherman and his trusty sidekick, Drizzle. Edwin Vihoson ▼ Bio: Hi there. Um...well, my name's Edwin, and...I'm a Predator, which is a genetically modified human that basically turns them...well...us...into giant killing machines with retractable claws and sharp teeth. I have one friend, and his name is Fortune, but he's a Prey, which is basically a genetically modified human and gives them Prey instincts. And did I mention he can fly? He used to glide with flaps of skin that stretched from his wrist to his hip, but now he's got real wings. It's pretty cool to watch, but, personally, I hate heights. I really wish that the Predators would stop eating the Prey, because one, Fortune wouldn't have to be constantly hiding inside of trees and stuff, and two, because it's just gross. Name: My full name is Edwin Vihoson, but I also respond to "You idiot!" (That's what Fortune calls me sometimes.) Gender: I'm a guy. Is that not obvious? I look nothing like those snakelike, beautiful, terrifying demon Predator women. All Predator women never look like they've lifted a stone, but they are deadly fast (unlike me) and if you ever get on their bad side, without a seconds hesitation they would rip off your arm and beat you to death with the bloody end. And that's if they were being merciful. Age: I think I'm 14? There never really has been a reason to keep track of how old we are. But I've seen 14 cold seasons, so....I guess I'm 14. But Fortune says I look like I should be sixteen or seventeen, so I don't know. Fortune's 13, by the way. You might wonder why I talk about Fortune so much when this is supposed to be about me. Well, people usually care more about him than of me. I don't blame them, he's the only one who came back from Utopia to return to his family. Besides, all the Prey love him, and all the Predators (besides me and a few other non-cannibals) hate him. All the Prey are scared of me, and the Predators hate me more than Fortune so...I'm not exactly the most popular. Location: I honestly don't know. Ever since I was kicked out of my clan, I never really knew where I was. I suppose I'm right here, where else would I be? About Me: What? Was the Bio thing not enough for you? ....Well, I'm the first Predator to successfully befriend a Prey without losing control and eating him. I'm strong, very strong, but I'm not very fast. I also can't swim, because I have metal legs and I sink. My metal legs are also another reason why I'm not fast. My days are spent traveling from place to place to place to another place with Fortune, trying to escape this creepy assassin Predator who is determined to kill or capture Fortune, like so many other people. I've heard of him...or her...or it before. They call it the Shadow, because it's very smart and sneaky and very efficient at it's job. I'm getting sidetracked again, aren't I? Well, I'm not really the most interesting person in the world, sure, I was once locked up inside Utopia and experimented on for a few months, but that's about the most interesting thing that ever happened. Interests: I like anything dangerous, basically. Except for flying with Fortune. That goes off of the dangerous chart and moves to the stupid chart. There's a difference, people. I hate learning. Fortune's been trying to teach me how to read, since I don't know how, but I don't want to learn how. It's a waste of time. My hobbies include throwing stuff and hunting. I don't hunt Prey, of course, since I'm a vegetarian. My idea of vegetarian is that you don't eat the human prey. I prefer eating the animal predators, like lions and stuff. Some people have asked me if I have a girlfriend. I wish. There is one girl, however, that I like. Her name's Hillary, and she's Fortune's sister. But she was bit by a Predator with poisoned fangs (the occasional one pops up sometimes) and people say she's going to die. It certainly seems like it, too. She slipped deeper into insanity, and the last time I saw her, she was screaming, eyes wide in terror, trying to push away invisible creatures. She once saw things no one else could see. Now she sees things that aren't even there. After that I had to leave, because the other Prey thought I would try and finish what the other Predator had started. Only two people know what happened to the other Predator: Me and Fortune. Hillary had fainted the moment I wrenched his jaws from her arm, so she didn't see me snap his neck. He rots away, buried under the ground. And on that note, I refuse to say any more on this subject. Introduction Edwin lived in the clan of Viho, which was named that because Viho was the leader of the clan. And if one were to put two and two together, you might realize that Edwin was his son. His mom's name was Kapila, and Edwin loved her. Unlike most Predator females, she was kind. Viho was this huge dark-skinned giant with arms the size of tree trunks, and mom was as pale as the moon and so very gentle, she won the hearts of all. Edwin grew up, pale skinned and blond-haired, like his mom, but as strong as his dad. One day, the clan was moving, and took shelter inside of a factory that hadn't been used for hundreds of years, not since all of the humans died, leaving only the genetically modified. And, of all the days it could have collapsed, it chose that one day. Almost all the clan made it. All except Edwin. He was six, and couldn't run as fast as everyone else. His legs were crushed to splinters by a falling beam, but most of the warehouse managed to remain upright. Kapila crawled in to rescue him by lifting the beam off his legs so he could crawl through to safety while she held the entire warehouse up. Once pulled through to safety she dropped the beam and began to run. Only, with all the speed in the world, she wasn't fast enough to outrun the tons of steel that captured her and crushed her. Edwin legs were replaced with metal ones, but nothing could replace the emptiness in his heart. He refused to kill other Prey, because, with their soft eyes and frail bodies, they reminded him too much of his mom. Despite all of Viho's methods, he refused, until, one day, Viho threw him out of the clan, and said that he could never return until he had killed a Prey and brought it back as proof of his deed. Edwin, unable to hunt for himself because he was too slow, grew weak with starvation. He would have died, if not for a young Prey boy by the name of Fortune. Fortune had also been kicked out, but for another reason. To keep from overpopulating, every season the Prey clans sent out three people. The children voted for one, the adults for another, and the Elders (as little as they were) for a third. Fortune had been leading a scavenging party to gather food, but a group of Predators had surrounded them. Fortune had been the only one to escape alive, and so he was blamed for what happened. Out of grief, only one person was chosen: Fortune. Edwin, dying, did not seem to prove much of a threat to Fortune, and Fortune was fed up with dying people, so he nursed Edwin back to health. Edwin and Fortune became friends, and they traveled together to Utopia. Utopia was apparently a place where all the Prey would be safe from Predators. Edwin followed in hopes that they might admit him, as well. Unknown to him, Viho had kept track of him, and had resolved to kill Fortune in order to bring Edwin back. He followed them to what we know as the Bering strait, but what the Predators and Prey simply knew as the bridge to Utopia. The bridge was a bunch of long wooden planks strung together across the surface of the water, making a simple and difficult access. Fortune and Edwin made it to the wall, but the gates were closed shut, because they wouldn't let Edwin in. Viho followed them across, but when they tried to shoot at him, stopped and started tearing off chunks of the board and hurling them, point first, towards Fortune. Edwin used his own large body to block a well-aimed particle, and it speared him in the chest. He was able to pull out the large chunk of wood before he lost consciousness and fell into the icy waters, Fortune soon following after in a vain attempt to bring him back up to the surface. Fortune tried to bring Edwin back up to the surface, but it was no use, they both lost the battle against the cold waters. Edwin woke up several days later, strapped to a hospital bed, surrounded by other Predators, including his own father, Viho. Apparently Viho had gotten shot in the arm, and they replaced his arm with a metal one. For months they ran tests on him, until one day Fortune arrived to set them free. They had replaced his wings (flaps of skin from wrist to arm) with actual, brown wings the color of wood. He released all the Predators and flew them back over the wall. Apparently the doctors had been doing illegal tests on them. Once released back into the wild, Viho returned to his clan and contacted the Shadow, a Predator assassin to kill Fortune. (Yep, after all he had done for him, Viho still hated his guts.) And so, Edwin and Fortune are running, and the story has not yet ended. In fact, maybe it has just begun. Aniela Aries ▼ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Bio: I am Aniela Aries. My name literally means “messenger of God.” And for years that’s exactly what I was. Don’t get me wrong, I am no angel, not in the least. But I am a muse. I was the queen of the muses. Our job, simply put, is to deliver inspiration to humankind. From great works of art to wondrous pieces of literature and even those mesmerizing pieces of music, it is all our doing. We inspire humans; we help them channel their talents in the right direction. We do that by silently gifting them images of what their work should be and how it is supposed to turn out. And with that we sit back and watch them work. For years I led the muses in this tireless pursuit. But in time, I got fed up. I am sick of remaining silent and watching humans reap the results of the visions that I sow. This is why I decided to step down as queen of the muses. Some of those ingrates might try to tell you that I was dethroned. But I was not, I quit! And now I am on a mission to destroy the human realm, and with my powers, nothing could stop me. I can control human minds, so much so that they would think that my thoughts are theirs; instead of inspiring them to do good and to create, I can inspire hate and destruction. And this is exactly what I will do. I will create an army of brainwashed humans. All I need now is a human sidekick to get started. Name: Aniela Aries A.K.A. Cold Fury Gender: Female Age: I’ve been around since the dawn of time. You do the math. Location: Everywhere. But now I have taken residence in the realm of the humans. About Me: I am angry and ready to destroy everything that stands in my path. Interests: Arguments, wars, famine, destruction, and eating Sushi. Introduction “My lady.” The nine women bowed their heads as I made my way into the throne room. Their excitement was almost palpable; they were ready to boast about their achievements to their queen. I walked deliberately slow just to prolong their wait; I even lingered on the steps to the throne just to mess with them. Sighing, I plopped myself on the throne. “My lady, we’ve inspired almost 900 new creations today," Cassandra, the leader of the romance muses declared. The other women, clad in their boringly untainted white dresses, nodded their heads and allowed their faces to adopt delighted smiles. Such insolence! “And what of it?” I questioned, making sure to coat my voice in a layer of boredom. I could see the little twerps falter. They weren’t used to this tone from me. Normally, I would smile at them happily and thank them for a job well done. But not today. “Ah, my lady, we have inspired over 50 new symphonies. Granted it would take some time for the composers to fully conceive of the ideas, but the creative processes have already been set in motion. And a few years from now, they will come to fruition.” Ariel, the annoying musical muse, intoned. I raised an eyebrow. “And what? Am I just supposed to wait here for a few years, just to see the fruits of your labor? How boring are you?” Chatter broke as the women stared at me in disbelief. “My lady….” Cassandra started, before trailing off and eyeing me thoughtfully. She cast her eyes downwards, adopting a softer tone. “My lady is still upset over what happened with your last charge.” The snotty wench surmised. “So what if I’m upset?” She shook her head. “Of course my lady has every right to be upset. My lady’s charge, after all, died only hours before successfully discovering the much sought after cancer cure. And I know that Lady Aniela had been steering him towards it for years. His death was an unfortunate accident indeed.” She finished in a soft and considerate tone. I scoffed…. loudly. “Yah, and it isn’t the first charge I’ve lost. No, I lost many of them over the years. But that’s not the worst thing. The worst thing is that many of those idiotic humans just decide to quit. I’d be guiding them towards a wonderful creation, and they’d walk away halfway through because they heard love’s siren call or because they found a ‘more stable’ job or whatever.” “Humans are fickle indeed.” Dara the poetry muse intervened. “But on the few occasions when they carry through and bring the vision to path, it is truly amazing.” I leaned back in my seat and eyed her for a moment. The women were getting antsy. They weren’t used to this attitude from me. Granted, I was originally the muse for darker feelings like angst and rage, but I made sure to always act positive and composed, the way a proper muse should be. That is why they elected me as their queen. But I am sick of being proper and even sicker of toiling away at this fruitless occupation. “And how often does that happen?” I questioned in a sardonic tone. “One in a million,” I declared. “One in every million humans follows the path and achieves the brilliance that we offer. The rest of them either walk away or get killed off.” “My lady…” “Don’t my lady me, I am sick of it. From now on we’re not inspiring them to create; we’re going to inspire them to destroy. That should be an easier path for them to follow; after all it is more in line with their instincts and animalistic drive.” “My lady…. Please! This is not our path. We’re creators not destroyers.” “This is an order!” I bellowed, getting to my feet. “And you know what? Your path is silly. I came from a clan of dark muses. We inspired wars and arguments. Hell, we’ve inspired two world wars so far. Can any of you take credit for something that huge? No, your biggest achievements have been inspiring the likes of Shakespeare and Beethoven. But what are their creations worth when compared to such mass destruction?” Cassandra stiffened; to her my words are bound to sound like blasphemy. “My lady chose to leave her clan and join us. And because my lady became so inspired by the Creator’s ideas she was elected queen,” She argued. I raised an eyebrow. “I only joined you because you hold more power. My clan is abhorred for being Destroyers. The other muses look down upon them. But you get to rule over the mystical realm. I figured if I joined you and ruled you, then I’d rule it all. But I misjudged my ability to tolerate this goody-two-shoes nonsense.” “You led us for years Lady Aniela. I know you were convinced of our ideals. It showed in your every action.” She tried again. “Right now you are flustered……” “I am not flustered.” I cut her off. “I am seeing everything clearly for the first time in years. I agree, for a while after I joined you and after being elected your queen, I became enchanted with your ideas. So much so that I left the ideals of my clan behind and started to genuinely care about helping people find love and make music and harmonize and cure diseases. But over the years it became clear that people are not worth all this trouble. They don’t appreciate us or what we do for them. Why should I tirelessly attempt to help them from the shadows if they are so quick to give up?” “My lady…..” “My decision is final. We’re no longer helping them create. We’re going to make a real impact on their lives from now on. We’ll drive them insane with rage and jealousy. We’ll destroy them.” “M…. maybe my lady should step down for a while,” That damned Cassandra suggested. “What?” “I agree. Just for a while though, until my lady has calmed down.” Another voice seconded. “My lady does not seem like herself at all today.” And yet another. And before I knew it, nine votes were cast, and I was stripped of my title. Walking out of the door that day, I made sure they remembered who I was before I agreed to settle into the role of the queen. I was the muse of fury. In my clan I was known as Cold Fury. With that in mind, I set the palace ablaze and vowed vengeance on both humankind and the muses. The Janitor ▼ Bio: I am The Janitor. I come from a long line of custodians. My family name dates back to.....I don't remember, but it was a long time ago. It isn't the era I have difficulty recalling, it is my name. I think my first name is Bob, Chuck, Ted, or Cornelious; one of those. You see, I am on the bottom rung when it comes to social status. I haven't heard my name in centuries. Yes, I said centuries, but I will get to that. If I'm addressed at all, what I usually hear is: "Go get the Janitor." Or "Hey, Janitor." You may be wondering what a lowly character such as I could possibly do to dominate, but that is the folly of everyone I come in contact with. I see and hear everything in every establishment and every dimension I visit. I have access to every room, every personal nook, and every private stash. Others think their hidden drawers are clever, but I clean those desks. This makes me a very knowledgeable, albeit dangerous man. Name: The Janitor Gender: Male Age: I have been 42 years old for quite some time now. Location: Original home, Earth About Me: My time is spent hopping dimensions with my broom and dustpan made from my family's tree. Since I traverse time and space, I don't age. I have even figured out how to enter stories. You have probably read a book and didn't even know I was there. Everywhere I go, be it another planet, time, dimension, or tale, I walk among the people or creatures, keep quiet, and clean after them. My presence is barely acknowledged and quickly forgotten. As long as no one has to think about the orange peel left on the edge of their desk or worry about the wad of toilet paper that didn't quite make it in the bowl, they can get on with their seemingly secret lives. When I find an interesting prose, I use my skill to worm my way into the pages and watch from the inside. Sometimes, I even direct the author's words so the outcome is as I see fit; nice and clean. I chuckle because you probably thought bookworm meant something else. When it is time to leave, I am gone. I listen. I see. I know. Interests: The Perfectionist is my favorite client. He or she leaves clues about himself or herself in orderly fashion. His or her secrets are easy to find because there is nothing to distract me, unlike the cluttered slob. The object Iâm most excited about is the trash can. The documents and items people blithely toss give me a plethora of information. The next best place to learn about my subjects is the floor. Things are dropped and kicked. Gravity works and no one looks down. The bedroom is a pretty exciting room. You wouldnât believe the things people hide in there. Jewelry, money, documents, umm, personal items, etc. The Beginning I stood at the foot of the cadaver with my hand over my mouth and my finger and thumb pinching my nose wondering why Dr. Brash hadn't gotten rid of the body. He only wanted the brain. The jumpy flames of the candles made the shadow of the deceased huge and animated on the wall. He dug up bodies before and brought them home, so you would think I would be used to it, but it was still creepy. He only took the ones that were healthy. I suppose he meant those that hadn't perished from the Bubonic Plague. I hauled my bucket and scrub brush to the other end and scoured where mess was left on the floor. I wiped down the doctorâs scalpel and saw and gave them a good polishing. As I looked around the basement to see what else needed tidying I noticed a glowing crack from ceiling to cement in the opposite wall. I tip-toped to it and looked through. The doctor stood in his work robe in front of a table. Vials and bottles were scattered across its surface. An open book was propped against the wall next to a flickering candle. The floor was filthy from Dr. Brash's foot traffic and debris lay shriveling and rotting. The ceiling was blackened with layers of soot. Why was I never let in here to clean? This is disgusting. The doctor poured an amber liquid into a bottle and swirled it. He held it to his eye then sniffed the top. He turned toward the crack where I stood. I scurried away as quickly as I could and scrubbed the spot I'd already cleaned. The wall with the crack screeched and grinded. The sound was deafening. I pretended not to notice. How did I not know about that room? He must only go in there when I'm snuggled under my moth eaten blankets in the attic. So, why does he not care today? His grit collected footsteps walked toward me. Now, I know why the floor always seems so dirty over there. "Ah, come here. Drink this," the doctor said. I stood. My scrub brush clattered to the floor. "I don"t want to drink that, Dr. Brash." He thrust it in my face. I leaned back. "I need to see the effect it has on someone," he said. I waved my hand in front of my face, stepped backwards, and tripped over my bucket. ... My eyes fluttered open and I quickly closed them. My head hurt. I groaned. "How are you feeling?" I heard a voice say beside me. The words didn't register at first. When they did, I groaned again. I smacked my lips together. A pasty, metallic taste filled my mouth. From the corner of my squinted lids I saw the pockmarked bulbous nose and beady eyes of the doctor studying my face. "How are you feeling?" he asked again. I moaned and pulled my tongue from the roof of my mouth. "mmmkay. Hurts head." I managed to say. "Is that it? Is that all? Do you feel sick? How does your body feel?" I couldn't think about my body. My head hurt. "Head hurts," I said. "Stay here, I'll get you water." Does he really think I could possibly move? Come to think of it, my body does feel a little tingly. The doctor came back and propped me. He trickled water into my mouth from one of his vials. Wait, where am I? I looked around the room and realized I was laying on the table where the deceased had been. Yuck. I didn't care how much my head hurt. I couldn't lay there any longer. I raised myself on wobbly arms. The doctor assisted me. "Let me help you," he said. "I want to go to my room." "I will help you. I gave you the potion I made, and I don't know what effect it will have. We will lay you on your bed and in the morning I will examine you." He gave me the potion? I might die. I didn't know. I've seen the effects other potions have had on those dead bodies. Some turned into a pile of goo. Steam rolled off of others. Would I turn into a glob of human flesh? Now, I really wanted to get to my bed. I wanted to escape this evening. ... My dreams were fraught visiting the nearest village where sickly people lay and children danced in circles singing "Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies..." I walked into a hovel, and a dirty, thin toddler looked at me. The air was thick with flies and I recognized the stench. I woke with a start. The nightmare seemed real. I mopped my forehead with my sleeve and looked out the window. The sky was filling with dark clouds and the trees were whipping. I thought about my dream and the way the boy looked at me. The next thing I knew, I was again in the shanty. The boy had climbed upon a table where jars were situated sticking his boney arm in each one, pulling it out, and sucking his fingers. How in the world... I stepped outside. Lightning crashed and thunder roared. A limb cracked and thudded to the ground. I looked up the far away hill and could see the spires of Dr. Brash's castle. I closed my eyes and thought about my meager bed in the attic among chests and old furniture. When I opened them, there I was. My head was spinning with explanation. This is unreal. I remembered Dr. Brash telling me he had given me a potion. Is this the effects? For a moment, I was terrified. The doctor had ruined me. When I closed my eyes and thought about a place, I was there. Then, I wondered if I could go anywhere. My fear turned to intrigue. I closed my eyes. The rickety attic stairs protested under someone's weight. I thought about the stars I sometimes watched form my attic window. ... Black jagged rocks and cliffs with veins of gold, dark brown, and every variation in-between were everywhere. Trees were sparse. I thought they were trees anyway. They were purple with silver leaves that hung like a Willow tree, but not nearly as lush. These trees seemed to have an intelligence. Wherever I walked, the branches followed as if watching me. In the distance I saw a dome, like the covering the cook used in the kitchen, only this one was shiny, white, and as big as Dr. Brash's castle. As I traveled to the dome, a large wingless bird flew overhead faster than a sling could throw a stone. When I got to the house with no corners, I dragged my finger across its smooth surface. A clump of filth balanced on my digit. I pulled a rag from my back pocket and started wiping. Pierre & Precious Hightower ▼ Bio: I am a Hightower. We value balance above all else. Being born a twin, my sister and I have always been treated differently by everyone around us. We were worshipped, but kept at arms length. I am fire. She was ice. But our elemental powers far from reflected our personalities. I was cool, calculating and cunning. She was warm, protective and hot-tempered. To keep the balance, a price must always be given. But fate took too high a price when they took her away. How do they expect for me to retain my sanity when she is no longer here beside me to keep the darkness within me at bay? Name: Pierre Castor Hightower Gender: Male Age: Unknown (PhysicalAppearance: looks 18) Location: Parallel Earth (Country: Medius) About Me: I am the younger twin. Peia calls me Tor. We have always been inseparable. It has always been us against the world. In our country, Medius, twins have always been regarded both as signs of good fortune, but also harbringers of death. We were raised as fighters to protect our people using our elemental abilities. In exchange, they gave us a relative amount of freedom. However, we had extra abilities we kept secret... or so we thought. I can see a glimpse of future events when I concentrate enough on a person or a place. Peia has the special ability to influence others' thoughts and feelings. I am half of one soul, and without Peia here I feel incomplete. Perhaps, we should have been one person who instead was born in two separate bodies, each containing only half of a whole. Interest: Finding Peia. Going against fate. Becoming free. I enjoy swordfighting and martial arts. I like solving puzzles when I have time. Name: Precious Cassiopeia Hightower Gender: Female Age: Unknown (Physical Appearance: looks 18) Location: Parallel Earth (Wanderer, no specific country) About Me:To erase the memories of the people who found out about our secret powers, I paid the price - to wander Parallel Earth and go into the minds of select individuals to inspire them to do great things. Interest: I love matchmaking. I enjoy singing and dancing. It is my greatest wish to find Tor's soulmate and ensure his happiness. Half a Heart The door opened with a bang, and the palace guards came rushing in our room. They parted to let the king pass through, and behind him one of his advisors. The elder stepped to the side of the king, opening a scroll and he began to read its content to those in the room. "Pierre Castor Hightower. You have deceived this kingdom and hid one of your great abilities to your King, to whom you pledged to be loyal and true until your dying breath. We, the wise men of the Veritas, serving as faithful advisors to His Royal Highness have discovered your prophetic abilities. Due to your silence and betrayal, many of our men perished during the wars with the neighboring countries. If only you had shared your Sight to us, unnecessary bloodshed could have been avoided. Thus, we hearby declare that you be punished in isolation at the highest tower of this castle for a year. During this punishment you must write all that you See which we deem important to the benefit of this kingdom and our people." The elder finished his speech and nodded towards the king. The king closed his eyes, as if he were in pain. The next moment, both Peia and I knew would be difficult for us. "Seize him." The king said, his voice loud and clear, and yet lacking the conviction he usually had. The guards moved as one towards me. I did not have the will to fight them. Even if we would win a fight, we had nowhere else to go. It is better to stay within the reach of the enemies we already know than to venture to a different country and encounter a more cunning foe. "Tor!" Peia shouted in agony. I saw her move, ready to attack and protect. "Peia. No! It's okay. It will only be for a year. We must endure." I said. "You can't expect me to abide to this foolishness. I would not lose you to satisfy the selfish desires of a handful of advisors!" Her eyes were ablazed with fury as she said these words. I knew then, I should have stopped her. I should have anticipated this. Peia had never been one to just sit idly by and let the injustice she saw before her pass. I saw the color of her left eye change from light blue to stormy gray. "Peia!" I shouted. I elbowed one of the guards, stretching my right arm towards my dear sister to stop her. But too late. "What did you do, Peia? You know our actions always come with a price. Do you even have any idea what you have to pay?" These were my last thoughts before everything turned black. The image of Peia's pained face engraved in my mind.
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