#hnatask

Part I: The Basics

01. What is your full name? Viviana Regina Thorne 02. Date and location of birth? February 2nd, Ever After General Hospital 03. Who are/were your parents? (Names, occupations, etc.)

Father: Frederick Thorne. A deadbeat. I don’t know if the drugs or the booze have killed him yet, and I don’t care. Mother: Regina Thorne. I don’t know if my father has killed her yet. I care for her as much as she cared for me.

Adoptive mother/Guardian/Protector: Claire Dearing. She took me in ... she loved me as if I was her own flesh and blood. She passed away when I was sixteen, the doctors say it was of old age, but she got sick and they couldn’t do anything to save her.

04. Do you have any siblings? No. 05. Where do you live now, and with whom? In the big old house that became the first place I ever called home, the one true place where I was ever welcomed, now its just a pile of problems and bills that I don’t have the money for. I live alone.  06. Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks. I’m 5’6″/168cm. As if I’m telling you how much I weigh. I have fair skin, black hair, blue eyes. No tattoos, a few scars, no marks. 07. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? I’m allergic to people prying into my life. 08. Are you right- or left-handed? Right handed. 09. What does your voice sound like? Like a voice. I don’t know ... uhh normal?  10. What do you have in your pockets? Keys, lighter, lint.

Part II: Growing Up

11. Did you enjoy school? Yeah 12. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? The ballet studio Claire enrolled me in, school, nowadays from the girls at the club. 13. Did you have any role models? Claire... she was a good person.  14. What did you want to be when you grew up? A ballerina.  15. When and with whom was your first kiss? A long time ago with a boy whose name I already forgot. I’m not sentimental. 

Part III: Past Influences

16. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? Running away from my parents home. 17. Who has had the most influence on you? In a way my parents. Claire, maybe even Faye. 18. Do you have a criminal record of any kind? No. 19. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? When some jackass drove through a puddle and splashed me with muddy water.  20. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? I- ... I don’t know... maybe trying to get Claire to the doctor sooner... I- I don’t know. The doctors said there was nothing they could do, but it’s not like we could get a second opinion.

Part IV: Beliefs And Opinions

21. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic? Realistic.  22. What are your views on sex? It’s part of life. And it should be fun.  23. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable? I don’t think I could kill ... I want to believe I wouldn’t kill. But I know that sometimes things happen, and deep down we all are capable of killing... never say never. 24. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? Love is for children. 25. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? The only person I’ll die for is already dead. I- I don’t know... maybe for the girls, for Faye, Henry, Lumen... they are the only sort of family I have left... I don’t necessary tell them... they don’t necessary know that I would... that I care... but I- ... I think for them... for them I’ll do it.

Part V: Relationships With Others

26. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? Have you met me? 27. In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how? Let’s just say I’m not exactly a people person... I try to keep my distance. And I don’t like to be bothered. People talking to me usually bothers me so... 28. Who is the most important person in your life, and why? Myself. I have no one else. 29. Do you have a spouse or significant other? No. 30. Have you ever been in love? There was a time I thought I was in love, but it turned out I was just hungry.  31. What do you look for in a potential lover? Not much, as long as they are cute. Zero emotional attachments, or drama. I don’t do drama. 32. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help? Faye, the girls, maybe Henry and Lumen... the people who work at the club I guess. 33. If you died or went missing, who would miss you? No one. 34. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict? I tend to avoid people, but I won’t stay silent if something bothers me. 35. Do you care what others think of you? Not really. 

Part VI: Likes And Dislikes

36. What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes? Sleeping. Surviving for another day. 37. What is your most treasured possession? A music box with a ballerina inside. 38. What, if anything, do you like to read? Whatever I find around. 39. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)? sunbathing, relaxing in the woods, taking a long nap. 40. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? I drink if people buy me drinks, and I smoke. I wish I could quit smoking, it’s a expensive habit.  41. How do you spend a typical Saturday night? Dancing or waitressing. Some of us don’t have the luxury of having weekends off.  42. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? I’m too tired all the time to have insomnia, but I guess I’ll go to the woods.  43. How do you deal with stress? Smoking. Dancing when no one is watching. Practicing...  44. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? I don’t really care. 45. What are your pet peeves? Condescending people, spoiled brats. Ungratefulness. 

Part VII: Self Images And Etc.

46. Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted? Get up, eat breakfast, figure out if there’s enough money to pay the bill, go to work, wait tables, dance, go back home, sleep. It hardly ever gets disrupted so I don’t really know. 47. What is your greatest strength as a person? I don’t know... I- I’m a grateful person. I value what I have.  48. What is your greatest weakness? Claire taught me to care for those I love, but I know that loving someone is weakness. So I don’t show them how much I actually care.  49. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Caring less. 50. Are you generally introverted or extroverted? I don’t know and I don’t care. 51. Are you generally organized or messy? Neither, both, whatever.  52. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. Dancing, dealing with rude customers, avoiding people. Grammar, being honest with myself, telling people I- ... never mind, I’m good at everything.  53. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime? Become a classic ballet dancer. 54. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? In this same godforsaken town.  55. If you could choose, how would you want to die? For something that matters.  56. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. Leave town, buy a pair of ballet slippers, dance until I die. 57. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? I survived 58. What three words best describe your personality? Survivor, honest, loyal. 59. What three words would others probably use to describe you? Bitchy, jealous, grouchy.  60. Do you like yourself? Of course. I’m a delight. 

Optional/for the player:

“Are you really going to nap through lit class?”

Clyde lifted his head from where he had been resting it in the ring of his arms, propping his chin up on the heel of his palm.

“Depends on if I hear anything different.  I’ve already read this book.  I’m surprised you even noticed.”

His eyes flicked over to the front of the class where Clinton was sitting on a desk and charming some of the prettier members of their class.  For his part, Clyde was sitting in the back corner of the room.  Frankly, it was perfect placement because Joe Kosz dwarfed him in size, even when Clyde sat ramrod straight.  It was next to impossible to see the board from where Clyde was, so he had taken advantage of it and used time where it was most useful.  Namely, napping.

The girl--Carol Rochte, if memory served him correctly--took took the empty chair next to Clyde and leaned in closer.

“You’ve got some of the highest marks in this class.  And every time I look over at you, you’re dozing.  What’s your secret, Jenner?”

“Everyone assumes just because I’m ugly, I’m stupid too.”

She winced at that, and for reasons Clyde could not comprehend, she was looking at him like she was sorry for him.

“I don’t think you look that bad.  You’ve got nice eyes.  Maybe if you dressed a little nicer--”

“Like my brother?” Clyde raised an eyebrow at that.  Yet another person comparing him and Clinton.

“No.  No, you’d have to be your own person,” She smiled at him, and it was like a bullet to the heart, “You just have to find your own way is all.”

-

He kept seeing her everywhere, after that.  Was she really in all those places and he hadn’t noticed?  It was entirely possible.  After years of being shunned and called ugly, he’d gotten the memo that he was practically poison to the opposite sex.  They were to be seen but never touched.  Clyde was sitting in the school courtyard, brown paper bag of lunch resting nearby on the stone wall he was perched on.  Inside, his schoolmates were lunching happily, chattering away like little birds, complaining about teachers and gossiping about each other.  Carol was in there, and she had seen Clyde from where he was and waved at him.  He looked away, feeling a little heat rise to his cheeks.  He turned his body away and was prepared to bury his awkward face in a sandwich when he was rudely and unceremoniously interrupted by his twin.

“Hey, bro,” Clinton threw an arm around Clyde’s shoulder, handsome face beaming like an obnoxious ray of sunshine, “Whatcha lookin’ at.”

“Nothing.” Clyde said too quickly.

Clinton’s eyes made a calculating sweep, and much to Clyde’s chagrin, zoomed directly in on Carol.

“She’s pretty.”

“...yeah.”

“She’s smiling at you.  You should ask her out.”

“Yeah, no.”

“Oh come on!  What have you got to lose, besides your loner card?  Live a little, sour puss.”

Clyde glared back at his brother.  It was easy for Clint to say.  He was handsome, and had always had girls interested in him.  Even if he was rejected by a girl, there was always another who would take him up on his offers and date him.  Clyde had been alone all his life.  He worked well with others and he was good at school work, but people only liked him for how useful he was.  Beyond that, no one wanted to be near him.  They were all smiles and cheer to his face, but when they thought he was out of earshot, he heard every cruel and ugly thing they muttered about him.  He knew the mock pity they showed towards the ugly twin.  Not one of them was genuine with him.  Except….except Carol.

“Fuck it.  My dignity went down the toilet years ago.”

-

Clyde couldn’t remember being happier in his life.  Being with Carol was like living a holiday every day.  When he wanted to talk, whether it was about things that made him sad or laugh, she was always willing to listen.  She always knew when he was bothered, and would give sweet kisses to ward off his loneliness.  In return, she shared with him her hopes and dreams of travelling outside of Ever After and becoming a famous singer, fingering the locket around her neck all the while.  When he asked about it, she smiled and said that she put the thing most important to her inside.  She opened it to show him, and he squinted at her in confusion, seeing as it was empty.

“I put my dreams inside,” she laughed, “And no one knows them except me.  And now you.”

He shared with her his dream of becoming a poet.  In his free time during lessons, he’d write couplets to her eyes, stanza after stanza about her hair and smile.  Poem after poem, ignoring the wads of paper thrown his way by other students.  He still had the presence of mind to dodge the spitballs.  After school, when she managed to sneak away from her friends and Clinton had gone off with his own set of friends, they would walk into the woods and he would share with her the latest bit of poetry.

Calm and endless as the sea,

Adventurous and brave as can be,

Regal and noble as any Court lady,

Only girl to make me believe,

Life has some kindness for someone like me.

While it wasn’t his best work, it always brought a smile to her face.  He told her about his Uncle who left Ever After to go after his future wife who was also a singer, and she laughed and asked if he would do the same for her.  Clyde laughed it off, but in his heart, he knew that the answer was yes.  He would follow this girl to the ends of the earth, if she wanted him to.

Some small, petty part of Clyde was also happy about the fact that Carol always did her best to avoid Clinton.  When Clyde asked about it, she held his face in her hands and solemnly said,

“Why would I care what he does?  It’s you that I want to be with.”  And then she kissed him deep, and by the end of the kiss they were both laughing and panting for breath, troubles forgotten.

Much to Clyde and Carol’s surprise, they discovered he was very much a cuddler, although, once Clyde parsed it out, it made sense in its own way.  His parents had never been generous with physical affection when it came to Clyde.  As a child, he would get the occasional pat on the shoulder or the rare peck on the cheek, but otherwise he just wasn’t touched.  It was an odd contrast to Clinton, who had been generously given affection and in return, gave it freely.  But even Clinton generally avoided actual contact with his own twin.  “Touch starved.” Carol had murmured thoughtfully, and she kissed him on the forehead and held him close.

They always seemed to hide from the sight of others.  At school, Carol would shoot thoughtful glances at Clyde, but she never left her group of friends.  Clyde was alone as always, save for the occasional time when Clinton deigned to acknowledge his existence.  Perhaps, a more jealous boy would have been angry, would have wanted to Carol to prove that what they had mattered as much to her as it did to him, but Clyde was different.  She needed her time amongst her own people.  And he wasn’t going to force her to drop down in their school pecking order over someone like him.  Sometimes, they would pass each other in the halls, and she would brush her hand against his, ghosting her fingertips over the back of his hand or against his calloused digits as she went by.  In public, they were so very subtle that no one would have thought anything had changed except that Clyde had a soft glow of happiness about his person.  Classmates talked, snickering to themselves and snidely saying that Clyde must found a stash of happy pills, but he didn’t care.  He wasn’t alone anymore.

If I should die within a year,

I’d welcome death with little fear,

Because you came into my life,

And chased the shadows with your light.

-

When Queen Margaret rose to the throne and made an example out of every courtier who would not bow to her will, everyone had been shaken to the core.  After leaving the seeing too many executions, Clinton tugged at Clyde’s sleeve and the boys slipped quietly away and ducked into an alley.  Clyde’s twin’s face was pale, bordering on sickly green.  Clyde grimaced in sympathy.  Clinton had always hated blood.  Despite the needs of their family, when it came time to being taught hunting, Clinton had flat out refused.  Clyde had never minded, taking peace in the patience and the skill.  But that-

“That was a massacre.  Slaughter.  A blood bath.” Clyde said breathlessly, tears prickling in his eyes as the horror of it all came crashing down.  Clinton gagged and retched, spilling out the morning’s breakfast.

“I need a drink.” Clinton groaned once he’d spat the taste from his mouth, “Some affirmation of life.”

Before Clyde could quibble the wisdom of turning to alcohol, Clinton strode away and left him behind.  He watched his brother’s back and rubbed at the ache at the base of his skull.  He could use a cigarette.  His parents frowned upon it as a disgusting habit, but at least it didn’t turn him into an idiot.  Clyde had just put a cigarette to his lips and dug out his book of matches when a familiar face leaned into his view at the entrance of the alley.

“Carol?  What’s wrong?”

She walked swiftly towards him and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.  

He held her close, as much to comfort her as to ward away the feelings of dread and horror as the sound of horrified screams reached the alley.

“Let’s get out of here.”

-

They had executed Carol’s grandfather.  She told it to him like a confession as he ran his calloused fingertips along the bare curve of her waist.  He felt her murmur it into the cooling sweat of his bare chest as they rested in her bed, sheets around them.

“They just pulled him from the crowd.  My mother grabbed his hand and they just wrenched him away.  He was so scared.  He must have said something and a guard overheard him.  Why else would they have done that?  Why?”

He held her face in his hands and shifted to kiss away her tears.

“Do you want me to go?”

She shook her head, one delicate hand clinging to his wrist.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

And no one understands the need to ward off loneliness better than you.

She rose up and straddled his hips, leaning forward until her hair tickled at his face, curtaining his senses in the scent and feel of her.  They could pretend, at the edge of the precipice, that everything was alright; that they would wake up to the new day and smile at how it was no different from the familiar peace of all the days that came before it.  They could make-believe that blood wasn’t running into the gutters of the streets and that their world was falling apart around them as they claimed a small piece of piece of perfection for themselves.

At the end of it, when they both were too exhausted to continue, Carol leaned over Clyde to reach down to the door at the base of her night stand, whipping out a camera with a flourish.  Clyde smiled up at the lens, worn out and aching and pliant and just so very happy.  She could have put eyeshadow and lipstick on him and he wouldn’t have cared.  Once she’d had her fill of snapping pictures of his dopey, happy face, she placed the camera on the night stand and leaned down to trap him in a loving, tender kiss.

-

Clyde didn’t dare walk into the Woods without his rifle.  Gone were the days of peaceful strolling and aimless wandering.  The place seemed darker and more sinister, and Clyde did not trust the things that hid beyond the trees.  But there were still pockets of serenity in the woods, and thankfully, the secret place he shared with Carol was one of them.  He took Carol’s hand, smiling happily as he led the way.  They had recovered from the shakiness that overtook everyone who had witnessed the Red Queen’s massacre, and at last they were able to breathe the air of Ever After with a feeling that maybe not today, but tomorrow would be better.  Clyde’s heart raced in his chest and more than once he thanked his stars that the wasn’t prone to clammy palms.  In his pocket was a ring, simple in design and not even worth a small fortune in its value.  But it wouldn’t matter.  People in love had chosen the symbolism for what it was, and the price tag wouldn’t be what registered in the eyes of the heart.

They had snuck away, as they always had, and no one had even batted an eye.  Unusual behavior happened right and left and it just made it all the easier for them to sneak away and seek comfort in each other.

By the time they reached the circle of trees that surrounded the little patch of sunlit green, the two of them were laughing and teasing and kissing and it was all they could do to maintain their balance, drunk off of each other.

“Wait wait,” Clyde huffed breathlessly between kisses, “Just-just stand right there, alright?”

She tilted her head at him, curious and exasperated at the same time, as he took a few short steps back and took a deep breath.  He wanted to remember this image of her, young and beautiful and smiling just for him and because of him.  He felt warmth and an aching tightness in his chest that almost made him want to cry from the pain of pure, untainted happiness.  She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, mock impatiently.  He went down on one knee, pulling out the simple, silver ring he had used his meager savings to buy,

“Will you marry me?” He dropped his gaze from her face because there would be no way he could say the rest otherwise, “I know we’re young and I don’t have much to offer you, but I know that you make me happier than anything else in this entire world.  And I want to do that for you.  I want to make you smile and bring you tea in bed and pick out ripe bananas because you like them for breakfast.  I want to comfort you when you’re hurt, they way you’ve comforted me this year.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you and grow old with you.  I-” this was it.  This was the moment, “I….I love you.”  When the ground held no answers to him for why she hadn’t said anything, with great effort, he looked up into her face.  Her beautiful eyes were shining with unshed tears and she looked down at him like he had taken a hammer to her heart and shattered it into a million pieces.  Before he even pieced together the words to ask her what was wrong, the sound of a slow clap broke the stillness between them.  Clyde got to his feet swiftly and whirled, rifle ready, towards the source of the sound.  He lowered it as soon as he saw that all too familiar face.

“Clint?”

“Who knew you were such a sap, Clyde.  I mean, first the poetry and then this?  I couldn’t believe you actually had a tender heart in there but now that I see it for myself, my,” Clinton smirked, “does it beat.”

Clinton circled them like a predator, finally coming to a stop just behind Carol.  He reached out a hand and pulled her hair all to one side, running his smooth fingertips along the nape of her neck.  Her eyes closed at the movement, although the pain in her expression had not dissipated.

“Good job, babe.  You really had him going there.  But let’s not be cruel to my brother.  The game has gone on long enough.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder, and Clyde recognized the familiar way she leaned back into his brother’s body for what it was

“How long?”

“The whole time, bro.  You never did pay attention when I told you about girls, did you.  I thought it would be fun to get you out of your shell a bit.  And Carol thought it was harmless sport.  Hold hands with you, kiss you a little.  But then you just started spilling your heart out to her.”

Maybe there wasn’t an actual, physical sound to be heard, but Clyde could feel it in his bones and vibrating through his core.  Like the tree that fell in the forest with no one to hear, Clyde felt a rumble hum itself through his bones in time to the shattering of his heart.  As his brother smirked and Carol looked away, Clyde felt part of himself die in that moment.  Carol’s eyes darted from Clint to Clyde and widened, open and clear with concern.  She reached tentatively out,

“Clyde--”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” his voice croaked as he jerked away.  Clinton smirked and put an arm around Carol’s shoulder, drawing her close.  Her hand dropped down to her side, and Clyde could almost think that she was sorry for what she had done.

“Lighten up, Clyde.  It was just a joke.  A harmless prank, that’s all.  You’ll get over it.  And then we’ll all laugh about it ten years from now.” Clyde looked from Clinton to Carol, traitor to traitor, as a pained smile spread across his face.  Get over it.  It was all a joke.  It was all a lie.  They were laughing at him the entire time.  It was all a lie.  An unbearable sound filled his mind and Clyde could only conclude that it was every cell of his being screaming in agony.  He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and bring back the calm that always came to him in the Woods.  The high pitched scream faded into a calm, dead silence, and in that silence he knew what he had to do.  Clyde reached down and took off his rifle’s safety.

“You’re right, bro.  I’ll get over it,” Quicker than it took for either of the two to realize what was going on, Clyde put his rifle to his shoulder and put a bullet in Carol’s heart and one in his fucking brother’s throat, “But who’s laughing now?”

Clyde walked over to his brother and gazed down at the face that had taunted him all his life.  Clinton was gasping desperately for breath, hands trying to cover the wound that went through his neck, blood spurting out.  Cooly, Clyde raised his rifle again, took careful aim, and shot Clinton in the heart.

He lowered his rifle, body stiff and tense, ready for a fight.  He was aware of the smoke from the gunpowder, the feel of the ground beneath his boots, the crows that flew off when they were startled by the noise.  He couldn’t get a bead on where to focus.  The edges of his vision became a foggy haze as he became more and more aware of the sound of his own breath.  When his mind finally attuned itself to his surroundings once more, he dropped his rifle and fell to his knees, cradling his head in his hands, dry sobs heaving from his chest.  It took him far too long to realize that the pained sounds he heard were coming from him, and by the time he had calmed, a chill prickled on his skin.  He leaned back from where he knelt, face turned up toward the sky.  The moon hung, pale and remorseless, against the clear blue sky.  Too tired to cry anymore and too tired to be angry, Clyde returned his attention to the bodies of the two people he had placed on pedestals.

“I should leave you here.  Let the creatures here tear you both apart like you deserve.”

He sniffled and wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall again.  Now was not the time for tears.  Not too far away was an abandoned little cabin with a wood shed.  There was bound to be a shovel inside.  Clyde dragged Carol and Clinton’s bodies to the bigger trees and broke off branches from some of the underbrush to hide them from the eyes of those passing by.  He was going to be gone for just a moment, but he didn’t need to take that risk.

He dug a grave big enough for two.  It was the practical thing, he told himself.  He knelt over the bodies and took out his pocket knife.  He had made his kills and it was only right that he take his trophy from each.  He took hold of a lock of his brother’s hair and sawed it off with the knife.  He would the soft brown lock around his finger before turning his attention to Carol.  He took a hold of a golden lock of hair and did the same.  He was going to just leave it at that and bury them when it occurred to him that there was a prize that was still left.  Far more gently than he thought he was still capable of doing, he lifted Carol’s head to slip the golden chain from off of her neck, the locket dangling down and stained with the blood from her heart.  He pressed the clasp and looked down impassively as it clicked open.  It wasn’t empty like the time Carol had shown him.  Instead, there was a picture of him inside.  It was from that day when he had made love to her although for her it was surely just sex.  He scrutinized the happy, foolish face inside the locket and covered it with the locks of hair he collected.  Then, without further ado, he rolled the bodies into their final resting place.

“Here lies Clinton Jenner and Carol Rochte.  Together in death as you were in life.”

-

There is no reason to panic, Dad is here and everyone one loves Her Majesty, she thought but the words felt bitter and strange on her tongue, even as they remained unsaid. Instead, Keita and her sister Guinevere told their father about all that they had done while he was away. Of the people they had helped, of the fun they had had, of the court events they had attended. Everything they had done they told him, and for some reason, Keita couldn‘t help but feel like something just wasn‘t right. She didn‘t know what it was that made the whole situation with her family make her feel so uneasy, she just knew something about it felt off, something felt wrong.

Keita pushed away the feeling, instead glowing with happiness as Guinevere even told their father that she was having yet another child, her third. Keita loved her two little nephews Jacob and Gordan, but she expressed how much she would love to have a niece this time to her sister, a little girl to teach everything she had learned to, someone to show around the court and watch grow up into a beautiful young woman who was beloved by all in the court.

“I would love a daughter, she would be such a delight in our lives,” Gwen said, smiling down at her stomach as she laid a hand on her stomach that bulged slightly because of her unborn child.“What would you name her?” Keita asked her twin. Even at nearly thirty, Keita and her husband had only had one child, a son as well whom Keita adored immensely, named Kenneth. He was nearly ten, and growing up so fast in her eyes. Sometimes Keita had a hard time the boy was hers, even after having him for these ten, wonderful years. Sometimes knowing that her husband was hers was just as exhilarating as the day they wed, just twelve years ago.

“I don’t know, but something beautiful and sweet. Melody perhaps, or even Adeline,” Gwen told them. The smile her sister had was so soft and loving that it made Keita melt a little. Gwen’s love was unconditional, unlike her own which was so selective. Gwen had only known about her new child just a couple of weeks, yet the love she already had for the baby was enough for everyone in this room. Loving Kenneth had taken time, but Keita loved her son fiercely, and had always made sure that he had everything he truly needed and nothing less.

“I’m sure she will be just as lovely as her mother, and her aunt,” their mother said, touching Gwen’s shoulder lightly and winking at Keita. Gwen smiled at their mother, and the sight of the smile so similar to her own sparked an ache in her chest. It was a foreign feeling, was it not? Why did it feel so familiar then? Why did the sight of her family, so happy and proud, make her feel so sad and upset? Keita knew she loved her family; she loved them deeply with everything she had. She loved each one of them so much that she would protect them with everything she had. So how could she be sad about them then?

“I’m going to go and get something to drink, do you want something?” Keita asked them suddenly. She needed to get away for just a moment to clear her head from this twisted panic she was feeling. Still, the thought of leaving them for just a moment made her feel just a little more panicked, strangely enough. She shoved it away though; there was no need for her to be afraid, especially not about her family. They were safe, and nothing would ever happen to any of them.

With a yes from each, and a request for what they wanted Keita left her parents sitting room for their kitchen to make their drinks. She could hear the chatter from her little sister while she was in the kitchen making their drinks. She and her sister had wanted their fathers’ first night back to stay just between the four of them. He was so patient and loving, Keita knew she could not have asked for a better father than the one she had. Her mother too, so caring and fun, always encouraging both of them to pursue their dreams no matter how often they had changed over the years. Keita had wanted to be the head advisor to the White Queen when her father stepped down for the last several years, and she was working hard to become Her Majesty’s head advisor.

Years of hard work had lead her here, but the passion she felt for caring for the people of the kingdom sometimes even surprised her mother and sister. Keita may have had only one child herself, but she had taken in several of the orphans of the kingdom, to give them a loving home and people who cared about them. Yet she did not just foster some of them, she spent her time at the orphanage spending time with every orphan there, showing them love and attention. Showing them that someone cared about them and their wellbeing. The five she had taken in were like children of her own, even if only one of them remained now. Her foster daughter, Emmeline. She was proud of her, seeing her succeed in school as well as she did. She would be gone soon though, with only a year left before she could go to the university. Keita would miss her, but like all the others, she knew Emmeline would come by and see the family that had loved her and cared for her for so long.

Keita became aware of a strange humming noise in her ear and she looked away from the now finished drinks to look around, and then it clicked. It was far too quite in her parents’ suite of the castle for anyone to be here. Where could they have gone? Why would they have gone anywhere? It was so unlike her family to just disappear without telling her they were going somewhere, they were so close and protective of one another even here in the beautiful kingdom of Ever After.

Leaving the drinks on the counter she went back into the sitting room only to be met with the sight of her family no longer sitting in the chairs in the far corner of the room. It was so strange, where would they have gone while she was making drinks? She would have heard the doors close if they had left unless their father had closed it. Her sister had the bad habit of closing every door a little loudly if she was not paying attention.

“Mom? Dad? Gwen?” She called out, moving towards the chairs. A brush of wind from behind made her turn, and suddenly she was looking at a room that wasn’t bright and cheery. It was dark, filled with shadows and cobwebs. Broken furniture lay before her, broken like the day she had lost her father. Broken because of her rage and her pain.

Lost my dad? How absurd, Dad is…he is alive. He must be I just saw him! Not even just a few minutes ago, I was talking to Gwen and my parents. Dad is alive. Mom is alive. Gwen is alive. Gwen…Gwen is pregnant for goodness sake. Why would I think any of my beloved family is dead?

Keita could feel herself shaking, the pieces of memories flinting through her mind. Her mother, dead soon after she was born. Gwen, dead before she was born. Her father, murdered by the Red Queen. Keita felt herself shaking more, and she began whispering no repeatedly, her pitching going higher as she turned, throwing her arm out on purpose to catch a lamp with the back of her hand to knock it of its stand, screaming no just once.

Her breath came fast, the anger pulsed through her veins but the fear locked her in place. She could see the memories of her family just moments ago, everyone happy. Now everything was torn from her, gone in the blink of an eye.

Keita flung her arms up, blinking as she sat up, the blankets tangled between her legs as the dream, no, the nightmare fled to the corners of her mind leaving just whispers of what it had been about as her heart pounded fiercely in her chest. She reached over to the other side of her bed out of reflex to shake awake the man who lay with her, only to feel the cold sheets where she expected to touch a warm body. She snatched hand back, pulling it close to her as if she had been shocked. He’s dead, she remembered suddenly, her heart now quivering and pounding in her chest. Executed on charges of treason and murder just a mere three years ago. Her only beloved, the only man she had ever loved. The man she had come so close to marrying, just a few hours away from their wedding.

Her beloved Paul, a nobleman who she had known while she was growing up and had been close to as well. The man she had fallen in love with so suddenly it had scared her when she was nineteen and he was twenty-two. The man who courted her with patience and joy from the time she turned twenty, until she accepted his proposal and even into their engagement. Her heart felt like it was being constricted, her lungs felt like she could not get enough air in to breath properly. Her chest, her body, her soul hurt, as it did so often when she thought of Paul. Of the family she could have had. Of the family she had almost had with him.

Keita pulled her duvet around her and she laid down once more, her pillow wet with the tears she had split while she slept, and now with the tears she shed while she laid there curled up. She wept for the family she had lost, both as a child and as an adult. She wept for the love she craved, for she had lost the loves that had filled that craving.

"Did you not see what that brat just did?" the knight raised his volume once again, as Isabelle followed his hands, they were motioning at her to look at his ruined boots. “It was an accident, that’s what kids do, they just play around” she repeated her initial argument, “Belle, drop it” she heard one of her friends say while tugging lightly at her elbow, “NO!” Isabelle said in a firm tone looking at her friends. She disentangled herself from the grip her friend had on her “They can’t just bully people around” Belle said scanning the crowd that had formed, surely people agreed with her "It was a mistake, the kid didn’t mean it” she finished by looking straight at the knight.

They were causing quite the scene, two guards approached them, obviously concerned about the knight’s safety, as if he was in any real danger, Belle thought bitterly, please it was just a bunch of girls and a innocent kid, but when the guards finally made their way to the group the little kid made a run for the nearby alley. All Isabelle could do was step between the guards and the kid, a quick hand gesture from the knight was enough to make the guards hold their ground and not pursue the child, a sigh of relief escaped her, the little kid had managed to get away, it had been worth speaking up. “Well it seems like since we don’t have an opportunity to teach the kid a lesson anymore, we are going to have to teach you a lesson”, it took her a while to understand what was happening, but when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her she knew she would probably never make it home again. 

“Wh- what? What are you doing?! Let… me… go!” she tried to wrestle herself out of the lock the guard had on her. “Citizens of Ever After” the knight said addressing the crowd, “you are witness of the behavior of this girl” he said pointed at Belle, “you saw her defy my authority, you heard her challenge my power...” he made a pause, Isabelle continued to resist arrest, “and challenging a knight is challenging the crown, and the Queen herself...” Belle could not believe what she was hearing, for the first time since she had decided to do something to help the child, she began to wonder if she was in trouble, it seemed like the knight was going to blow this out of proportion. She had done wrong. “And so she must pay the price for such crime...” the knight finished before turning and starting to walk. 

Crime? Belle could not believe was she was hearing, this was wrong, this couldn’t be true. “You can’t do this” she screamed looking at the crowd, “they can’t do this, don’t let th-” she continued to wrestle out of the hold, “this isn’t fair...” she continued to scream and kick and fight, “we can’t let this happen, this is unfair, everything they do is unfair...” Belle finally gave up when she saw her friends just stand there, looking everywhere but at her, letting her being taken away, doing everything except trying to help her. She finally gave up when not a single person in the crowd made a sound, when no one raised their voice. She felt herself go limp against the guard. 

As they were halfway through the way to the castle it started to rain. It began as a light rain just as they had started to walk away from the crowd, the more the walked the more intense the rain got. Isabelle was wet and angry, but above all that she was disappointed, no one had dare speak a word, they had let the guards take her away. Now she was being half-dragged half-carried to the castle, she had stopped fighting them until lighting illuminated and the thunder that followed gave her courage to open her mouth again. “You should have your knighthood removed” she said in a bitter tone, the knight motioned the guards to a halt, he approached her and moved her head to face him rather forcefully, “What was that?" he asked squeezing her cheeks. Belle tried to escape his grip, she felt his fingers dig into her skin, they were cold because of the rain, or maybe because he doesn’t have a soul, she thought, and when he finally let her go she said, “knights are supposed to protect, to serve” there was venom in her voice now, she had been quiet for too long, “knights are supposed to help and look out for those who can’t do it for themselves, it seems to me like you didn’t exactly did that today” she finished while holding his gaze. She was drenched, she was trembling and she knew it wasn’t because of the cold rain, she was angry, no, she was furious.

The next thing she saw was a flash of silver; a stinging pain and the taste of metal in her mouth told her that the had been wearing his gauntlet even before she shifted her gaze from the ground to face the man who had just struck her. The guard still had a firm hold on her, otherwise she would’ve had hit the floor, she wasn’t even granted a moment to wipe off the blood from her face, ”You really need to learn how to shut your mouth“ the knight said in a mocking tone, and even if every cell in her body screamed at her to shut up, Belle said, “You are so brave, so powerful” she spat at him, a mix of blood and rain water, and tears, she was crying, not because of fear not even pain, she was crying because she knew there was nothing she could do to change this. “Is this what they teach you before becoming a knight, to hit defenseless girls?” she felt herself being pulled, the guards tried a better hold of her, the rain was making it hard for them and their heavy armors. “You are not powerful, you are not a real knight, you are not even a real man, you are just a pathetic excuse of a person who preys on the weak” the next strike was so hard it almost caused her to black out. Her vision became blurry, she didn’t know if the blood was coming from her lip, her nose, or some other part of her face. The knight yanked her head up by the hair, “you do not get to talk to me like that, you are going to regret...” the knight said before he resumed their walk. Belle felt like she already was. In what world does a full armored knight hit a girl? A girl who is being held up by two men twice her size? Only in Ever After.

Upon arriving at the castle she heard the knight tell the guards “Throw her in a cell, she is to receive trial in the morning” then he looked her in the eye and said, “you think that your little show at the town-square was to be ignored? Uh? If an insolent little girl can say that to knight and not be punished… what do you think the citizens might attempt?“ he made a tsk sound before grabbing her face once again he said, “we can’t let them think they can do as they please.” He let her go and gave her a smirk before walking away, the next second she was being dragged through a steel door, “NO! Please… please no!” she heard herself yell, “kill me now! please just kill me now and be done with it!” she told the guards while trying to get out of the hold, tears running down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that hadn’t stopped, she was shaking, and she wasn’t sure if it was the cold of her drenched clothes, or the rage she still felt in her heart. “I don’t want a trial! I won’t be paraded in front of the whole court!” she was furious now, she had heard how these trials usually went, and almost every single one ended with the accused being sentenced to death, trials only served two purposes in her opinion, entertaining the court and giving the prisoners false hope. She would rather die with her dignity, “please just kill me now” Isabelle told the guards as they opened one of the cells, she was thrown inside, and as she collided with the floor one of the guards told her, “I’ve seen many wishes come true inside these cells, so don’t wish too hard or you might just get what you want” he gave her a slight nod and slammed the door shut. 

Darkness, all around her only darkness. And the cold. The room was so cold. Isabelle sat on the floor hugging her knees, pulling them close to her chest to keep herself warm, she felt the tears hot against the cold of her skin, it was also probably the blood, she rip a little piece of her skirt and tried to clean herself, she didn’t even know why, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She had always known that crying never fixed anything, all her life, crying and praying, and all she ever got was loss after loss. Isabelle wished she could stop crying, what good was that now? After a while or what seemed like an eternity to her, her body was sore and she was tired, sleep took over her. Belle, she heard the soft whisper in the dark, she must be dreaming, she had to be dreaming, it couldn’t be possible. And then she heard it again, a voice full of sweet melody, Belle, and she couldn’t help herself, she had to answer back. “Mother?” she whispered, and someone whispered back my child, what have you gotten yourself into? Oh Belle! my sweet little girl Was her mother really there? How could it be? Was she just making it up because she needed comfort? She frantically looked around trying to locate the source of the voice, she tried to reach out for her mother.

"Mom,” she called out like she used to do when she was little, when she was afraid of the monsters under the be, “Mom where are you?” she was about to cry again “Mom I’m going to die” she said in a small voice, somewhere along the night she had accepted her fate, she should be scared but she knew that what she did was right, she was going in peace. Exactly, you are going to die! Belle you were supposed to be a good girl! Why did you do it Belle? Isabelle slowly raised herself from her position on the floor, “Mother? Why are you telling me those things?” she felt as if someone was sucking the air around her, wasn’t her mother supposed to be proud, to give her strength, to wait for her with open arms? Because it’s your fault, it always is. Everything always happens because of you, Isabelle felt a small breeze caressing her hair. I didn’t die for you to receive some hero’s death and be turned into a martyr? Belle was sobbing now, for a moment she had hoped that it was some sort of hallucination but even so, the words hurt her more than anything in the world. Was it true? Was she the one responsible for her mother’s death? She had been so young, she didn’t remember anything at all, and yet even her father never knew what caused her mother’s death. 

Isabelle was desperately trying to make sense of what was happening, she keep looking around but all she could see was darkness, and when lighting illuminated the cell she was all alone, and yet she could hear as clear as if there was someone standing next to her, You ungrateful girl, I gave up my life for you! I left your father all alone because of you Isabelle! I gave my life to save yours! You should’ve thought about it before trying to play rebel, before throwing your life away because you wanted to be a hero. There was no doubt, the voice was unmistakable, so it must be true, Belle thought with resignation. “Mom I’m sorry” it was all she could say, what else could she say? She had always wondered what had happened, she had always wanted to know, the words of the guards echoed in her ears, her wish had come true. 

“I’m sorry … I’m sorry … I’m sorry” she repeated until her voice was raw. 

The light hurt her eyes, Isabelle tried to shield herself but there were a pair of arms pulling her to her feet, this is it, she thought, I’m going to die. She wanted to ask if she was going to have to sit through a trial or if they were kind enough to just kill her without all the show, but her voice failed her. They are probably going to do a public execution, to make an example of her, that’s what the knight had said, she thought, maybe people will finally open their eyes, mayb- she had tried to give herself hope before remembering last night. She had tried to be brave, to stand up for something and now she was going to die, she should’ve never spoke up, her mother was angry at her, her mother was disappointed. With closed eyes she awaited whatever fate life might bring her, but she never anticipated being thrown out of the castle into the morning light. She turned to ask what had happened but the guards were already retreating, the castle gates closing and all she could do was stand there wondering why they had decided to spare her life. People had died for so much less, people had been condemn for less, families torn and lives ruined for so much less… it wasn’t fair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and even if she knew the way home, she felt more lost than ever.

The rebels had just lost Sid a few days ago, maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. But it was because of that, because how unexpected everything had been, that he had to do this. Besides he didn’t care about a big party, unless Faye wanted to have one, all he needed was knowing that they would be together forever. Walking to the nightstand he grabbed the little velvet box and flicked it open, the ring sitting inside reflecting the sun coming through the window, Finn outdid himself, Rob thought before shutting the box close and putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He had made reservations at Louis’, everything carefully planned, he only hoped Faye didn’t suspect anything, at least he had to have this first. He smiled at the memories, Faye always one step ahead of him.

He had barely made it to the sidewalk when he spotted John walking towards him, he knew what he must do, he followed the boy’s lead and met up with him in the nearby alley. “Johnny” he said greeting the boy, not for long, he remind himself, John was growing up to be a well respected man. Everything happened so fast, for a moment Rob felt like he was the one spinning and world had just stopped, the words coming out of John’s mouth ringing on his ears. “It’s been three days...” Rob said incredulous and glanced at his watch, he was going to have to come in late to the bank, he had a spotless record, he could come up with something to justify it, an silent signal passed between him and John, the two started to make their way to HQ. 

When they got there it was chaos, Tanner was trying his best to keep them under control, Finn seemed to be the one causing most of the trouble. Every face turned to look at Rob and John coming in through the door, the older rebels only had to look at each other to know there were things to be discussed in private, away from the new recruits, from the kids who had been taken in by Sid to be raised as soldiers. We just buried him, Rob kept thinking, John had informed that they had agreed to vote on a new leader. The boys made their way into their makeshift conference room, Veronica and Portia were already there, waiting for them. Rob looked around the room, there weren’t many options for who would take over, Veronica, John, and Portia were too young, but their vote was valuable, they had been part of this group for years, their opinions mattered a lot to the rest. Rob believed that the right thing to do was to make Tanner the leader, he had been raised by Sid, the legacy had to pass to him. But Rob could not be more wrong. He didn’t even know what was happening, but in the end they all agreed that Rob should take over the group.

It was a lot to take in, they made compelling arguments, and all Rob could do was bring his hand to the place where the ring rested, Faye was going to kill him. He was scared, but she had always encouraged him when he talked about the rebellion, with her support he could do it, they were going to have to be extra careful, she was her revolution. She was the reason why he had joined, to make sure she lived in a safe town, to keep their family safe. He found himself nodding, the rebels congratulating him with pats on the back. Then Finn was announcing their decision to the rebels waiting in the living room. A smile appeared in Rob’s face, these people believed in him, truly believed in him. He was going to make sure they did more good that bad, things had to change, these soldiers had to be signs of hope, they had to be symbols for the people, they were going to change the world.

With plans for the future Rob left HQ and headed for work. Turns out he wasn’t that late for work, for a bank noon was a very reasonable time to get to work. The first thing Rob did was pick up the phone and call Faye, she told him that she had agreed to close the club tonight and asked him to stop by, he agreed and told her he needed to talk to her. Perhaps it was best if they talked in private, he wanted to talk to her about the rebellion and ask if she was sure she wanted to be with him. He still wanted to propose tonight, only they were going to get into a more complicated commitment, did Faye actually wanted to be a rebellion wife? He shook those thoughts away, it was going to be okay, they were going to be alright. 

He couldn’t have been working for more than two hours when there was a soft knock on his door, Rob found himself staring at two members of the Queensguard. His heart started to beat frantically against his chest, his mind racing faster than ever before, how had they found out so quickly? Well he must have been the worst leader in the history of civilian resistance. Was he supposed to try and scape? Was the position of HQ compromised? Had the other’s being apprehended yet? Rob had a thousand questions floating in his mind, not more than a few seconds had passed, the guards asked him to please follow them outside, he was to be taken to the castle. This is it, he thought, they are going to kill me, or worse. Torture him to get information, he would never gave them anything, he would rather die. But then his hand flew instinctively to his pocket, the little velvet box pressing against his hand, if he was to searched upon arrival, they would figure out that there was someone out there for whom Rob would do anything, how could he had been so stupid, thinking she was going to be safe. What if they tracked her down? Rob felt his world crashing down. 

The ride to the castle was short, he was escorted to one of the many rooms, asked to take a seat and wait. He could feel himself trying to make sense of what was happening, trying to come up with a plan, if he managed to escape he was going to go pick up Faye and leave this town behind. What about the rebellion? his mind screamed at him, the beating of his heart blocked everything out. Perhaps it didn’t matter anymore, he had messed up, even if he hadn’t had the ring on him, people knew about him and Faye, she was his everything and he had risked her life by being careless. There was movement outside the door, he braced himself for what was to come. He never imagined the Queen walking through the door, a smile on her face, he didn’t know what to do, was she going to kill him personally, he never thought he was worth that much. You are the leader now, his mind reminded him, what does she want?

                                                royal tax collector

       congratulations

                                        a great honor

                                                                welcome to the royal service

Rob’s head was a confused mess, the words swirling around him, he could barely command himself to smile and nod. The Queen informed him that he was to start working for the crown immediately, he was to take over the position of royal tax collector, she even mentioned his father, who had held the position in the past. Rob tried his best to collect himself, to push all his fears and nightmares and realizations behind, he was pleasant and smiley. He gave praises and thanks, asked for details and kept telling the Queen how this had always been his dream, he even told her that this would surely make his father proud, she agreed. But there was a part of him that was uneasy, that remained vigilant, a part that kept saying, it was close, it had been so close. The Queen took her leave and the previous collector walked into the room, he began to explain to Rob what he was supposed to do, walking him through the duties and responsibilities, Rob only heard half of what he said. By the time they were done it was late, and he was glad his plans with Faye had changed, he would’ve never made it to their reservation. Not that any of that mattered anymore.

The same car that had brought Rob into the castle returned him to his apartment. He knew he had to talk to Faye, but the words he had to say were going to have to be the opposite of the ones he had prepared for weeks. How had he not realize this before? That by being with her he was putting her life in danger… had he really have been that selfish? He knew he loved her more than life, that he needed her by his side, and for that same reason he had to push her away. Rob had to make sure he was out of her life, he understood right there and then that he had to make her hate him, people had to believe he never cared for her, if he was to walk this road, it had to be alone. In those excruciating moments when he had been riding to the castle he had understood, there had never been a future for them, he had only being kidding himself. Oh how life had changed, all it took was one day, he blinked and his whole world was gone. He had to do this now, there was no point in delaying it. If he was to play double agent he couldn’t have any ties, he couldn’t gave them any reason to hurt those he loved.

With a deep breath Rob walked outside and started to make his way to Fire & Ice. He saw people returning to their homes, the club beginning to quiet down, and when he spotted her his heart began to race. The words were getting caught in his throat, but willing himself to go through with this he spoke in a serious tone, “Faye we need to talk”. It was cold and uninviting, enough to make sure she didn’t try to get close, to kiss him or touch him. He was sure he would never be able to say the words if her skin touched his, “in private” he said looking around. They made their way to her father’s office, Rob was careful to keep his distance, his face a mask, his tone dry and serious, his mind screaming, his heart breaking. “This can’t continue…” he started, “we had great moments, but I- … we can’t see each other anymore…” what else could he say? Was that enough? To make her hate him, to make her never want to speak to him again, what if she had questions, was she going to ask for an explanation? He wished she would punch him, or shoot him, but most of all he wished he didn’t have to say any of it. He wished he could grab her hand, to caress her cheek, to say I’m sorry, I love you, remember you are my revolution, my first and my last but instead he said "I- umm... I think it’s time we go our separate ways" 

Part I: The Basics

01. What is your full name?

Clyde Emmanuel Jenner

02. Date and location of birth?

November 15, Ever After Hospital

03. Who are/were your parents? (Names, occupations, etc.)

Bernard Jenner (Royal Manservant for the White Queen)

Sherina Barrow Jenner (seamstress)

04. Do you have any siblings?

I had a twin.  Clinton.  He disappeared years ago.

05. Where do you live now, and with whom?

I live in the castle barracks with the rest of the Queen’s Guard.

06. Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

I’m 5’10’’.  I have blue eyes and was once told they were icey.  My hair is a dull brown.  After all that time outdoors almost constantly, my hands and feet are very calloused and my skin’s gotten leathery.  I am not and have never been a handsome man.

07. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

I had a case of bronchitis when I was 18.  My parents were too busy mourning Clinton to even notice.  I recovered, but now every once in a while I have bad coughing fits and difficulty breathing.

08. Are you right- or left-handed?

Right handed.  Clinton was left handed.

09. What does your voice sound like?

Deep and resonant.

10. What do you have in your pockets?

 Bullets.  I also have some sugar cubes for the royal horses that behave.  And some crackers for birds.

Part II: Growing Up

11. Did you enjoy school?

The work wasn’t all that bad.  I enjoyed literature.  The people in it were what made it distinctly unpleasant.  I wasn’t well liked.

12. Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

 I learned to hunt from all those trips into the woods with my father and Clinton.  Hunting was the only thing that I did better than Clint, so I kept practicing.  Everything else has mostly been self taught or learned in basic training with the other Queen’s Guard.

3. Did you have any role models?

My father taught me to be a man.  Literary figures were also good role models.  Clinton shaped me more than anyone else.

4. What did you want to be when you grew up?

I never really had an idea.  I knew I wanted to work with animals and that was about it.

15. When and with whom was your first kiss?

I don’t want to talk about it. (Carol.  He was 18.)

Part III: Past Influences

16. What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

The day my brother disappeared.

17. Who has had the most influence on you?

...I hate to say it, but Clinton.

18. Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

I got authorities called on me for loitering, but that’s just about it.

19. What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

I can only think of one thing, and it’s never pleasant to talk about.  So let’s let sleeping dogs lie, hmm?

20. If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

I wish I hadn’t I hadn’t opened my heart to lying bastards and heartless bitches.

Part IV: Beliefs And Opinions

21. Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

Well, I always look forward to tomorrow.  I suppose that makes me an optimist.

22. What are your views on sex?

No one ever died from not having it.

23. Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

Are you kidding.  Of course I’m able to kill.  I’m in the Queen’s Guard.  It’s acceptable to kill someone when I’ve been ordered to kill them.  Revenge is not a good reason, but it’s valid.

24. Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

Pfft!  Please.

25. Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

My family.  The people I care about most.  A child.

Part V: Relationships With Others

26. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

There is no one in this world who gives a damn about the “real” me.  Why waste time in sharing it?

27. In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

I’m rude to people who are rude to me.  If they are bothersome, I’ll be annoyed.  Otherwise, I keep everyone as far away from me as I can.

28. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

Me.  No one else will look out for me, after all.

29. Do you have a spouse or significant other?

No spouse.  I’m courting Jane Porter, at the moment.  Her prospects are mildly better than mine, but despite that, I’m her only suitor.

30. Have you ever been in love?

Once.  It ended badly for both of us.

31. What do you look for in a potential lover?

Trustworthiness.  Strength of will.  An interesting personality.

32. Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

Probably Graham Warren.  We have an understanding, of sorts.  

33. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

Absolutely no one.  And that’s how I like it.

34. Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

I will argue when provoked.  Otherwise, people

35. Do you care what others think of you?

I used to.  And then I realized that no matter what I did, people are shallow and their opinion of me never changes.  So I stopped caring.

Part VI: Likes And Dislikes

36. What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?

I like being in the woods.  It’s very calming.  I’m more at home there than I am anywhere else.  I like being surrounded by the sounds of living things, raising my rifle to my shoulder, and pulling my trigger and bringing something down.

37. What is your most treasured possession?

My uncle sent a machete to my family from one of his travels.  I took it for my own.  It’s very useful.

38. What, if anything, do you like to read?

I used to enjoy poetry.

39. What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?

Hunting.

40. Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

I drink to forget every once in a while.  I’ll smoke a cigarette to calm down sometimes.  I’m not one for drugs, really.

41. How do you spend a typical Saturday night?

Hunting in the woods.

42. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

I’d go on patrol.  There’s always one going around town.

43. How do you deal with stress?

I’m not stressed, actually.  I’m a very calm, collected individual.

44. Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

I prefer to have a set plan, but I can be adaptable.

45. What are your pet peeves?

The rude people.  Anyone who underestimates me.  Anyone who thinks they know me just from looking at me.

Part VII: Self Images And Etc.

46. Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

I wake up at the crack of dawn with the rest of the guards, and we all go for a morning run to get the blood pumping.  After that, we’re let out into the mess hall and then we go to our assigned posts for the day.  If I have a day off, I go visit my parents for the most part.  In my breaks, I just spend my time around the castle.  If I’m not working or taking care of business, I go hunt in the hundred acre woods.  I’m not too thrown off if there’s a shift in routine.  I wouldn’t be happy about it, but I’d get the job done.

47. What is your greatest strength as a person?

My focus.

48. What is your greatest weakness?

My anger.

49. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I wish I hadn’t been such a fool when I was a teenager.

50. Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

Introverted.

51. Are you generally organized or messy?

Despite all appearances, I’m very organized.

52. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

Good:

Precision exercises.  I am very good with my rifle.

Tracking.

Animal training.  They fear me too much to disobey.

Bad:

Connecting to people.  People in general don’t like me to begin with.

Controlling my temper.  I don’t often get angry, but when I do it’s explosive.

I’m very bad at being sympathetic to people’s troubles.  I’ve had so many through out my life that I just wonder why they can’t just stick up their chin and continue onward.

53. What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

I’d like to travel outside of Ever After.  It’s a pipe dream, though.

54. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Married wealthily.  Still working in the Guard.

55. If you could choose, how would you want to die?

Quickly.

56. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

I’d quit the Queen’s guard and go just spend my time hunting everything in sight in the Woods.  I might as well die doing something I enjoy.

57. What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

Being deadly.

58. What three words best describe your personality?

Unpredictable.  Obedient.  Loyal.

59. What three words would others probably use to describe you?

I frequently hear arrogant, heartless, and ugly.

60. Do you like yourself?

Not really.  But I don’t have much choice.  We don’t choose the lives we were born into.

Optional/for the player: