forum We Are The Forgotten | CLOSED FOR JOINING |
Started by @ConstanceAtticus
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@ConstanceAtticus

No, of course, you can steal from it. I'm a poetic essay writer, I write fantasy for fun so I'll probably never use it. Just keep me posted on what you do with it because I'd love to hear all about it! ;)

@Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

(Will do! Knowing us, a lot of our other characters will get dragged into it, and a few of them will wreck face. We tend to take characters from s bunch of fandoms, twist them, and add our own. Torture and fluff. SO MANY OF THEM!! We got to counting once, and stopped at over 150 OC's, and over 75 twisted characters from fandoms)

@ConstanceAtticus

Part of being an Earth Witch, and the part that I found to be my favorite, was The Hum. The Hum was the sound and the vibrations the Earth made if you listened close enough. Every chance I got, I would lie down in the grass that made up my home and dig my fingers into the rich soil that made me, and I would just listen. To me, it was the most beautiful music. There was nothing better than the feeling of the sun on your face, the Earth beneath you, and all of its wonderful beauty around you.

@ConstanceAtticus

At this point, I was just procrastinating going home. This pond was my favorite place, between two worlds- and somehow, more peaceful than both of them. My black motorcycle was parked about a two-minute walk across the far hill on my left, and it was going to be a ten minute drive through the Orchard to get to my cabin in the forest. If I timed it right, I could drive right when the actual bright sun was out of my sight, but the watercolor sunset it left behind still played on the sky.

@Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

(I don't know if that's impressive or terrifying)

(I think the answer is yes, and that was the minimum, we make new characters and storylines weekly, and plot holes run abundant, but that's okay! Our first was Tari, and our second was Amber/Ember(multi-personalities). Tari is a tortured soul in more ways than one, and Amber and Ember are in the same body, but have different minds and appearances.)

@ConstanceAtticus

Name: Sebastien (Bash) Valor
Complexion: Jet black hair, messy, falling somewhat into his light grey eyes. He has fair skin and a splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He's tall, but not so much broad and built as lean and agile. He drives a motorcycle around that he salvaged and fixed up from the Outside World, and spends a lot of time alone.
Sexuality: Straight
Age: 17
Magic: Earth Magic, and a little bit of healer
Personality: Loner, sarcastic, but kind to people he doesn't know. It'll take an army to make him hate you, but he has a great eye for fake people and liars and will be fully prepared to stay away from them in the first place. Grew up to be a fighter for the resistance in the human world, is a war veteran, and brought to Salem after winning six medals of valor and honor and bravery in his deployment. Has tendencies toward silence, and only really smiles when he means it.
Bio: Works as a hunter with his falcon in the woods. Meat is a rare resource, so you have to have a special license. It's a great excuse to get away.

@ConstanceAtticus

FLASHBACK
"Bash! Get the hell out of here!"

Vines sprout out of the red cracked dirt and bullets surge like waves around us. We were immortal, we didn't age, but that didn't mean we couldn't die. My comrades fell around me like angels from heaven, and I already felt the waves of hot rage and burning grief pitting a hole in my stomach. It was enough. It was enough to elevate my powers to a point where I could take out militias with the flick of my fingers. I felt my lifeless grey eyes start to burn their stark white, and I felt my hands start to shake. It was enough. It was enough.

"Bash! You're going to kill them!"

It was enough. They'd wiped out almost a third of our population in the first year of the endless war alone, and we'd been dwindling ever since. But our kind was peaceful. Or at least we used to be.

@Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

(This is really cool! I love your style, I don't normally let myself do that sort of thing, because I always feel like people lose interest, even if my partner says she likes when I do it and when I semi-monologue)

@ConstanceAtticus

(This is really cool! I love your style, I don't normally let myself do that sort of thing, because I always feel like people lose interest, even if my partner says she likes when I do it and when I semi-monologue)

(HAhahaha I do love my monologing lol. I just love writing. Letting it all go. I guess it's just like 3 more people get to see it and share it and imprve it this way lol)

@Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

(Thanks!! How do you bold??)

Name: Orion "Ori" Parran
Complexion: Russet hair, blue eyes that change with his mood, light for fear and happiness, dark for anger and hatred, and burn red in a rage, black means run
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: 19
Magic: Dark and Blood magics, music
Personality: Sweet, even with the stereotype of his magic. Unlike many, he does not fear his powers, knowing that they are him as much as he is them. Caring for those around him, and will always do his best to help those weaker than him. Carries a soft spot for children.
Bio: Works in the gardens, and sometimes as a hunter if a tracker is needed. Is sometimes a scout for missions into the rest of the world for supplies.

@ConstanceAtticus

I jump at the sudden noise and my grey eyes snap open, catching the light in pale sparks.
"Jesus Christ andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer), don't sneak up on a lady like that." I breathe, pulling myself out of the grass with a slightly damp shirt thanks to the lush grass.
He chuckles, helping me to my feet. "Noted. Come on, go get your badassmobile. We have things to do." He ushers me forward, and I toddle after him on tired legs. andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer) was a 21-year-old Water Witch, with an excitable personality and a tendency to drag me on adventures. As far as he was concerned, there was never a dull moment.

@ConstanceAtticus

We walk together down the far hill, where I find his yellow jeep parked next to my bike. On the back windshield of his car, I'd left my mark in the form of makeshift stickers made from carpenter's tape and sharpie marker. My personal favorite announced to all of Salem that aliens did, in fact, exist. I even drew a little cartoon alien head and a flying saucer that looked more like a turtle.

@ConstanceAtticus

I rev the engine on the bike, and I tail him on his jeep into the Dusties. Where he was dragging me, I had no idea. But the promise of running into strangers and finding trouble was almost definite.

@Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

Ori was walking along the familiar garden paths, familiar to him anyway. Smiling to himself, as even a hedge witch could get lost in a hedge maze like this. Almost as if you could wander the planted paths forever. A headache came on, suddenly, like lightning, and he tried to make it under a tree, somewhere he wouldn't be as vulnerable.

FLASHBACK
"ORI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Eyes blue walking into the madness of war, he barely heard Cor behind him. He can't stop. Falling. Falling. Falling away from him. Has to keep moving. A bullet tearing through his shoulder. Beautiful arc of blood behind him. Time slowing as the taste of it hits his tongue. As he hears the soft patter of it fall behind him.

Another shout behind him. Turning to look. Eyes red. "ORI! STOP!! ORI? WHY ARE YOUR EYES RED? WHY ARE YOU SMILING?" Keep walking. Keep moving. Reaching the first, the red stains his blades. Only adds to his bloodlust. Moving. Killing. A bullet. Point blank. A single thought surfaces in his mind. Huh. That Hurt. Killing. Bloodlust. When had he summoned claws? When had his hands stained red? When had his clothes? When had his mouth? Has to keep killing. Has to keep moving. Comrades falling like card houses. Rage. Rage. Rage.

Someone shaking his shoulders. Reacting. Turning. Killing. Watches the body fall like a bag of sand. Emblem doesn't register. Symbol doesn't register. Sigil registers. Cor. Cor bleeding. Cor torn open. Hands stained with blue blood, and red. Staring. Half his face torn away by a bullet. Eyes BLACK. Laughter. Healing. Blood. Rage. Only Rage. Only Hatred. Only Fear.
END FLASHBACK

Shivering, he stood, walking ever deeper into the garden paths. Trying to escape his own memories, his own mind.

@ConstanceAtticus

The humans called it PTSD, but around here we called our veterans Ghosts. They'd seen death, brought it on, gotten close enough to it to see the empty chaos of it. When I got here, I was a Ghost. I still am. Blank-faced, blank minded, and pale like death on the brightest days. I'd won six medals of honor in the Witch's army, and I'd killed about twenty people on separate missions for each of them. That was over one hundred people in graves for nothing but hatred, nothing but fear. That was over one hundred human beings in graves at my hands. I don't know about the humans, but here, we call that murder. We call that sin. We call that punishable by death. And around here, when you're a Ghost like me, we call that Casualties.