#dabiyyahwrites

@pluttskutt tagged me, you little devil you.

The Rules:

Post 8 facts about your character!

Tag 8 other characters, list their names and their creators!

Tag-backs for additional OCs are fine!

Any fandom, fleshed-out secondary canon characters, or original works welcome!

I tag @dottyteay @dabiyyahwrites @pluttskutt and yeh, I don’t know other writers or their blogs, sorry! This is Ken asking, by the way!

Robin

She has an adoptive brother Oliver. The two of them met early in their childhood in the orphanage they ended up in. She has become very protective of him since he spent time with her when no one else did.

She has an ability to sense people nearby, their signature and their general mood. This is very useful in her work.

Her alternate personality is Cecil, a masked mafioso. He doesn’t give any information away and has remained an enigma.

His partner is Charles, a man so done with Cecil, he can’t believe he hasn’t killed the man yet.

Cecil prefers to let Charles deal with the combat but he carries a knife and gun, though he prefers silent weapons that allow him to go unnoticed.

Robin was once Erin, a young girl adopted by a mafia boss. She couldn’t take being under Callahan’s thumb for long and ran away with Oliver, changing her name to Robin.

Robin lets Oliver do the cooking so when he’s at his school for the week, she cooks as little as she can. Oliver is not amused by this.

Thanks for the tag, @elizzawrites! And thanks for inventing the whole tag.

1) What’s the title of your novel? Earhart & Noonan’s Last Grand Adventure.

2) Is this a new project or an old project? This is an older project.

3) What genres does your story fall under? Historical fiction! Also maybe alternate history? Is Robinsonade a genre???

4) Describe your plot in one sentence. Amelia Earhart and her navigator struggle to survive on a deserted island.

5) What’s the protagonist’s name? I just told ya, silly!

6) Describe them in three words: adventurous, bookish, impulsive

7) What book is your story similar to? I am The Worst with remembering books, so no comment.

8) Which one of the story’s characters do you want to meet most in real life? Fred Noonan. Maybe if I met him, he’d be easier to write.

9) What are your plans for this novel? I want to query agents and publishers because most people I’ve talked to have shown interest in the story. If that fails, I’ll self-publish.

10) On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you for your book? Solid 10.

On the edge of Idalo, there is a strange sort of neighbourhood. It’s where the minotaurs and dragons, rakshasas and golems, zombies and banshees live. Their homes are set apart for the safety of the humans, elves, dwarves, and other beings who live in Idalo--and to keep them safe from the rest of Idalo as well.

In their neighbourhood they can roar and scream, fly and run, fight and play without worrying about who might be nearby. It’s a haven for beings normally hunted because of their fearsome (or misunderstood) nature. Though they might not be welcome in the rest of Idalo, they are welcome there.

Ivekan, a young dragon who’d barely lost his milk teeth, loved to wander the neighbourhood. Away from his cozy mountainside cave, there were many kinds of beings that he’d never met before. He played with the manticore’s children, and wrestled with a chimera. He met beings he had no name for (and was too embarrassed to ask what they were), and roamed further and further.

Everyone he met, whether they had sharp teeth and claws, poisonous touch, or a deadly stare, were pleasant. Ivekan wondered why the “humanoids” didn’t like them. He wondered why the Idalo neighbourhood was necessary. Shouldn’t they be able to live wherever they want, without worrying that a band of “heroes” would storm into their living room, kill them, and steal their stuff?

Ivekan’s parents agreed that it would be nice, but it was just the way the world was. They said he should be happy that there was even a safe haven, otherwise his egg might have been stolen and kept cold and he might have never hatched.

This wasn’t a very satisfactory answer, but it was the only one he got (even when he asked his grandparents, the grumpy yeti next door, and his weepy friend the squonk).

So he roamed further, meeting more “monsters” and learning all about them. He commented one night that he hadn’t met an unpleasant creature in all his (twenty-three) years.

“You haven’t met Yeneak yet,” his father grumbled. “He’s a crotchy old bastard. Snaps at anybody who tries to enter his cave.”

“Who’s Yeneak? I’ve never heard of him?” Ivekan asked.

“That’s good. Don’t go looking for him. He almost ripped the wings off your uncle the last time anyone tried to talk to him,” his mother warned.

Ivekan promised he wouldn’t look for Yeneak.

He looked for Yeneak anyway.

It was hard to get directions. If he asked directly, he was warned away with more tales of injury and ill-temper. Slowly, over the course of several months, he narrowed down the part of the neighbourhood that Yeneak lived in. (He briefly wondered if there were some sort of magic at play--when he flew over the neighbourhood it was a modest size, but when he explored the streets it seemed unending)

The part of the neighbourhood Yeneak lived in was in a deplorable state. Houses leaned against each other, where they hadn’t completely fallen over. Piles of rubble were fitted with doors. Cave entrances riddled the low cliff wall that ringed this corner of the neighbourhood. And a wide pipe (certainly more than wide enough for Ivekan to walk through) pierced the ground at a steep angle.

At the back of the tunnel, there was a faintly-seen flickering light.

Ivekan watched the denizens of this part of the neighbourhood for several days. They were almost all small, or injured, or different in some way. Not a single one of them would go anywhere near the tunnel. And that distant light continued to flicker.

Surely that would be the home of Yeneak.

Ivekan screwed up his courage and entered the tunnel. Though he almost had enough room to stretch out his wings, he felt like the tunnel was a tight squeeze. He crept forward, inching closer and closer to the light.

His eyesight was good, but he still couldn’t make out the source of the light.

“STOP!” a loud voice trembled the tunnel, rattling Ivekan’s teeth in his mouth.

“Yeneak?” Ivekan asked.

“I DO NOT LIKE VISITORS. LEAVE NOW, OR I WILL MAKE YOU LEAVE!”

Ivekan quivered. He took a small step forward. “My name is Ivekan,” he offered.

“LEAVE!”

“I like meeting people. I’ve met practically everyone, but you.”

“I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE.”

“You’ll like me,” Ivekan promised brightly. “Everyone likes me.”

Yeneak was silent for so long that Ivekan wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“THIS BETTER NOT BE A TRICK,” Yeneak rumbled.

“Why would I try and trick you?”

“I HAVE NOT PAID MY TAXES IN FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS.”

**

Sorry... I got nothin’ :( 

It’s green, duh.

Did you forget your science classes? Where they taught us that the sky is green because it’s alive?Remember, the sky is made up of living organisms that work like plants and therefore they photosynthesize to create oxygen for us and due to that, it appears green.