for this ask game o3o

★  mickey is a raging theater kid who is slowly getting the rest of the office hooked on broadway music. kawai is the only one able to resist.

★ eli’s ex-husband got a couple bunnies for his daughters and now they have a billion and his daughters have named them all after superheroes. eli didn’t want to deal with this (especially because he is now divorced) but now he is a Certified Bunny Breeder because heck if he’s gonna treat them badly.

★ i haven’t ever written this yet and it probably isn’t canon but one time while they’re hunting bandits, banner gets turned into a dog by a mage and he still ends up being the best commanding officer for his soldiers. 

★ keo made a bloodoath with a childhood friend he was in love with, but then she disappeared. he’s still bound by it but she somehow found a way to break it without dying.

@haphazardlyparked said:BEFORE THE BEGINNING!!!

@rrrawrf said:Before the beginning

BEFORE THE BEGINNINGThe princess’s fiance is murdered, one of the king’s best knights is executed for treason, the war ends, and the princess disappears. A few years later, Asher joins a rebellion focused on overthrowing the king, which gets him and his brother arrested. Before their execution, they manage to escape to an alternate world. 

2 is eli and 6 is arvio, and i cannot honestly come up with a way to shove them together in the same place, so i am going to write a quick little thing for each one and just be happy with that (hopefully). we’re gonna start with arvio bc i have a clearer idea for him. @knowledgeispowerandimcorrupt, for this prompt thing.

ARVIO

Arvio’s hands itched to run over the sleek frames of the machines arrayed before him, to pry off their covers and peek inside. He wanted to see if their guts were as well-designed and put together as their outsides, but before he could take more than a few steps forward, he felt a warning squeeze around his ribs.

The mechamancer shot an irritated look over his shoulder. Mock hung between one large man’s thickly-gloved hands, and the only thing that showed the machine was still alive was the occasional, irritated twitch of Mock’s metal tail, like a frustrated feline. Mock was still only about the size of a housecat; six months since its resurrection hadn’t been enough for it to get any larger. Of course, this time, it was for the better - it was impossible for Arvio and Mock to go unremarked, not when one was a mechamancer who should have died decades ago, and the walking, sentient, cat-like machine he called a familiar. The man holding Mock squeezed it again, and Arvio felt a corresponding pressure around his sides.

“Stop that,” he said quietly, stepping back. They couldn’t really hurt Mock just by shaking the little thing around, but Arvio still felt irritated and anxious that they had his familiar, and he did not. “I just wanted a look.”

“We’re not that stupid,” Clara said, and gestured with two of her fingers. Two of her soldiers, a man and a woman, moved up to take Arvio’s arms. For all that he was supposed to be the rebel Straxians’ one last hope at restoring the country to a monarchy, he felt more like a prisoner than the king they decided he had to become.

Arvio didn’t resist, even as the man’s grip on his right arm was tight enough to bruise. Clara stepped past Arvio, her boots clacking against the floor as she looked up at the enormous machines of war ranged around them. “They are beautiful, are they not?”

They were, in a frightening, fascinating way, Arvio agreed. “Who designed them?”

“Lux,” Clara said enviously. “We found these blueprints in his lair, once you had - disposed of him. I couldn’t find a team of engineers up to the task of building them properly… but you can fix any of their mistakes, I’m sure.”

If Lux designed them, then Arvio’s suspicions were confirmed. These were machines of war. He closed his eyes, and Mock gave a low, ear-grating noise that made its holder give it another shake.

“Quit that,” Arvio snapped, trying to pull out of his captors’ hands. He almost freed himself from the woman, but then she kicked the back of his legs and they forced him to kneel. 

“It wouldn’t be necessary, if you would just tell me that you’ll join us,” Clara said. Arvio rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in exasperation. “We know how to destroy a familiar, Arvio, even one so - bizarre as that one. Help us, and you - and Mock - will have your very own throne.”

Clara was wrong. She was that stupid. Arvio could see every one of these machines she wanted so badly for him to bring to life, and that was all he needed. Fine. She’d get her wish.

“In all honesty,” Arvio said, as engines clattered and roared to life all around them, “I’d rather see the world end.”

ELI

Playing a game of ‘would you rather’ with a supervillain was not the way Eli thought he’d spend his Friday evening. It had gotten him out of another three hours of listening to Daniel expound on his list of reasons they shouldn’t sever the knot, though, which was a blessing of sorts. Of course, if one of the questions had been ‘would you rather be here, or at home with your daughters and your rabbits,’ Eli would pick the second option.

Instead of asking that, though, the young man wiped his mouth on his sleeve and passed Eli the bottle. It was a little tricky to drink when one arm was in a makeshift sling and the other was handcuffed to a metal staircase railing, but Eli managed. He wasn’t supposed to be drinking on the job, but in this case, Eli felt it was better to just go along with what Spook wanted, which meant sharing a bottle of whiskey and playing the sort of game college-aged Mormons still thought was a fun way to pass the time, instead of clubbing or tagging trains with graffiti or some other properly risque behavior better befitting eighteen-to-twenty-nine-year-old unmarried adults.

(Eli wouldn’t know, but one of his younger siblings had been hanging around with some Mormon YSAs, whatever that meant, and had all sorts of hilarious stories of how they spent their time.)

He’d stumbled on the idea that Spook might have been raised Mormon quite by accident, but Eli couldn’t be sure; his sister might’ve converted, but Eli still knew very little about that church. On the other hand, Spook was engaging in underage drinking, which was definitely not a very Mormon activity, as well as supervillainy (which might very well be a very Mormon activity. Eli didn’t want to make assumptions about someone’s religion.)

“Would you rather,” Spook asked finally, his words slurring only a tiny bit even though they had already gone through one bottle, “set a bomb where no one would die, or go to prison for twenty years?”

This whole conversation had gone in a similar fashion. Eli considered Spook a little sadly. It was obvious something was wrong with the poor kid’s head, but it was also obvious that he had picked the bomb option. He had very nearly crushed half of Eli’s team last week, when they were all supposed to be working for Spook.

Javed had pulled them off the contract the second it became clear the kid was going off the rails, but it hadn’t been in time for Eli to get out. He had been stuck here for five days, now, wondering what was going on up above them. Spook had finally shown up a couple hours ago, miserable and bleeding from a cut on the side of his face, and for all that he’d nearly died because of the would-be villain, Eli couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Depends,” Eli said, settling back as easily as he could. “Would anyone still get hurt by the bomb?” He didn’t hand the bottle back, because he still felt vaguely responsible for making sure Spook drank as little as possible. The kid was only taller than him at the moment because he slumped over his knees several steps above him; Eli was on the landing. His shoulder and arm ached terribly from the awkward position of being cuffed to the wall, his other arm had a sharp pain that flared whenever he moved, and he seriously needed to use the restroom.

Spook wrapped his skinny arms around his equally skinny legs and rocked back and forth, shoulders hunched. Throughout the game, Eli had teased out what had happened - not only to the city above them, but in Spook’s private life. People didn’t just wake up and decide to terrorize a city with bombs and arson and weird riddles. Something had pointed Spook in that direction.

“Ten people would end up in the hospital,” Spook mumbled into his knees, “maybe - maybe including some friends.”

Eli closed his eyes. Dammit. Spook would be lucky if he ended up with just twenty years in prison, and not have Mercury Independent baying for blood. “Prison,” he said heavily, and watched Spook cringe, as if Eli had condemned him.

It was his turn. Eli took another drink when he noticed Spook reaching for the bottle. A little disappointed, Spook sat back. Eli tipped his head against the cold concrete wall and thought. “Would you rather apologize for hurting someone, or put more people in danger?”

It was as close as he could come to asking Spook what he was going to do - or what he had already done. Eli kept the alcohol close to his chest so that Spook wouldn’t try for it again. The kid let out a sudden wail and buried his face in his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I’m so, so sorry, I can’t - I can’t stop now, they’ll - they’ll kill me -”

Eli stared, then sighed. Enough was enough. His arm changed from flesh to the same metal that the stair railing was composed of. When Eli broke the handcuffs with a sharp jerk, Spook barely twitched from his fetal position.

The change swept over the rest of Eli’s body; he already knew better than to come at Spook when he was merely skin and bone. Spook flinched when Eli touched him, and Eli tensed in turn - but instead of hurting him, Spook relaxed as Eli gathered him into a hug, ignoring the stab of pain in his broken arm when Spook jostled it.

“It’s too late,” Spook mumbled, letting Eli cradle him like a child. “It’s too late - I-I’m so sorry, I ruined everything, and - and now they’re gonna kill me if I stop now.”

“It’s not too late,” Eli said soothingly, and hoped desperately that he wasn’t lying. “It never is, Alma.”

Spook flinched at his real name, and Eli just held him a little tighter. After a long, long moment of Alma sobbing into Eli’s chest, he pushed the bigger man away, and then fumbled something out of his jacket, and into Eli’s hand.

A chill ran down Eli’s spine as he saw what it was.

“Would,” Alma started, choking down a sob and staring at the floor. “Would you rather - would you rather kill one person and save the world, or - or watch it all end?”

Alma still held the barrel of the handgun, keeping it pointed at his chest as he forced out the words. Eli stared, cold down to his very core. Flinching the entire time, he brought his other, broken arm out of its sling, and forced Alma to let go of the gun he’d shoved into Eli’s hand.

It took a moment, but Eli finally unchambered the pistol, gritting the teeth against the pain, and threw the now unloaded gun behind him, further down the stairs.

this is from this ask game!

already answered 7 here!

9: How would you describe your writing style?

i didn’t start writing seriously until i was around 13 and discovered roleplaying on neopets. the forums there have a character limit on their posts, which meant that it got very annoying, very quickly, if you were the kind of roleplayer who posted 20,000 words a reply. as a result, my writing style has become rather concise. i tend to use adverbs a bit too liberally for literally everyone who has ever critiqued my work on scribophile, and i almost always refuse to take one out, because i’m spiteful like that. i write more outward action than inward introspection, because i Don’t Understand Emotions, but i like writing fight scenes A Lot. i tend to alternate between very pragmatic and very archaic phrasing, which has been pointed out to me, so i’m trying to fix it and get a consistent tone for each character.

20: Post a brief excerpt.

i answered this one in the link above, too, but i’ll give y’all something else o3o

(this is before i made the switch from using keo’s last name so k’lohei = keo)

“Just hurry up and keep me posted.” With that, the line went dead. Sully scooped the phone off the counter, then briefly disappeared beneath it.

He emerged with a heavy duffel, and set it on the bartop with a thump. Eager to leave Greenhurst - K’lohei knew a better town where he could spend the night - he grabbed the handle, and frowned when Sully didn’t let go.

“Nanoni… would this be Nanoni Neokoi?” Sully asked idly. K’lohei paused, realized that name-dropping here might not have been the best idea, then jerked his shoulders in a shrug.

“No. There’s a lot of Nanonis,” he hedged, and gave the duffel bag a firm tug. Sully let go after another moment, propping his elbows on the counter. He looked past K’lohei to one of his cronies.

“Yeah, well, I’m asking about the Neokois.”

K’lohei snorted. “What, you really think I’d know those ones just ‘cause I’m Kamean?”

“Not a lot of murderous island women in our kinda work.”

“There’s more than you think,” volunteered Prince Tarquin. K’lohei turned to look at him, then froze; behind him, Sully swore.

The man in the chair no longer looked like Prince Tarquin. His hair was black, his eyes hazel, his nose - famously broken by his third wife - straight. His skin was a shade or two darker than the pale beige it had been. Blood ran from a cut across the bridge of his nose, where he had hit the edge of the table when Trev slammed him into the table, and it made his smile look one step short of gruesome.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep up the illusion until backup came, KK,” he said apologetically, “but it’s hard to practice magic when you have a concussion.”

y’all seem dead set on putting talzee (1) and banner (5) together, this is like the third time and i switch up the lists every reblog. they are destined to be best world-hopping friends forever i guess!!!

Banner didn’t hesitate when Talzee told him she found another door. He was still wearing the jeans and the button-down shirt she had given him a day ago (she would be dismayed to find out he hadn’t showered while she was gone), and automatically pulled on his leather armor. He had had to receive the message secondhand from her neighbor, a sleepy-looking man with brown skin and vivid tattoos, because even after a month of living in this hellworld, Banner still couldn’t figure out how to use those things she called ‘phones.’

“Good luck, or whatever,” the neighbor said with a yawn, slouching back to his apartment as Banner gingerly stuck the phone in his pocket and clattered down the stairs. He still wasn’t sure he believed the phones weren’t actually magic, but Talzee had gone to great lengths to try and explain the concept of electronics to him. He had finally accepted the stupid thing just to get her to shut up.

She was waiting for him several blocks down, and Banner frowned when he realized it wasn’t the same place he had come through. It looked like another eating-place, but after a moment of puzzling through the signs plastered on the front door, Banner figured out that it must have been shut down a long time ago.

“Hey, Banner, around here!” Talzee called. “Did Keo show you how to use the GPS?”

Banner just gave her a blank look as he walked around the edge of the building, readjusting the way his sword hung from his belt. Nothing fit right over these clothes - they weren’t thick enough, and now his armor was just a touch too loose. “He told me the way.”

“Close enough.” Talzee smiled at him. Banner couldn’t help but return it in kind. “Okay, now, I don’t know where this one goes, but it’s not too far from the one you came in. So, logically, it should only be - what, six miles away on the other side?”

Banner just shrugged at her as they picked their way around toppled trash cans and rotted wooden pallets. “How did you find it?”

“Tarquin found something about it in the royal library.” Talzee stopped and nodded at the back door of the eating-place. “It still took a while to find. I think it’s open.”

When she stopped talking, Banner could understand what made her think so. A low hum shivered the air, and he could feel - something different about the place that set it apart from the rest of Talzee’s world. Banner glanced over at Talzee, and she nodded, so he took the door handle and pushed it open.

The instant Banner stepped through, he knew something was wrong. He didn’t remember how the portal from his world to Talzee’s had felt the first time - he had been too panicked to notice - but this was all wrong.

The trees crowded in too thickly around him. Vines hung down from their branches, and the air was thick and sticky, even though it was still early morning. He heard a crackly sound behind him, and turned just in time for Talzee to walk into his chest.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, and then shoved her aside, heading back towards that curious arch in the trees he had just come through.

Nothing happened. Banner swore, turned around, and tried again.

Talzee wasn’t paying attention to his frantic pacing. She stared around, wide-eyed, at the greenery around them. “This is amazing,” she said, delighted. “You live in a jungle? I wouldn't’ve guessed it -”

“Why did you come through?” Banner demanded. “This - This isn’t right. It’s closed - we won’t be able to get back -”

He had never seen a place like this. Talzee finally seemed to notice his worry, and she cautiously put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, shh, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ll get back somehow, there’s bound to be another door somewhere.”

“There are no other doors.”

The voice, low and growly, startled them both. Banner looked up, instead of explaining what the problem really was (he was less concerned about Talzee being trapped in a different world than a good friend probably should have been), and jumped in surprise when he saw an enormous cat lounging in the thick branches above them.

It looked kind of like a snow cat, but only in size, and because it had spots. The resemblance ended there. The cat had gold fur instead of white, and was sleek instead of fluffy; its thin tail whipped back and forth as it stared at them with green eyes.

Banner felt for his sword, woefully aware that he wouldn’t be able to do anything if the creature decided to pounce. It opened its mouth in a huge yawn and then said, “I haven’t seen anyone come through that door in ages.”

Talzee beamed. “Animals talk in your world?” she said, excited. Banner’s shoulders dropped.

LOL PROCESS

uuuhhhhhh okay so a lot of my characters have grown from being roleplaying characters, tbh. and in that case, i was rarely the one to make the roleplays, so my characters came from me just trying to fit something together for the rp.

like uh. sheisha was for a world i had made, but a friend was making a roleplay in, and i thought “i wanna play a thief,” and then, “why is this little girl thief on a royal airship” and then i was on a hawaiian kick and thought “oh snap she’s a magical psuedohawaiian ninja from a psuedohawaiian ninja family” but unfortunately for me, by the time i realized her ethnicity, i had already said her name was sheisha, which is not a very psuedohawaiian name at all. but who cares!!! not me!!!!!!! people name kids weird things anyway!!!!!! have you listened to utah mormon mothers???????

but i don’t RP with new characters very much anymore. so we have eli, who is probably the only answer to the second question that i can think of?

i really like dad characters, and i really like giant scary-looking dudes who are actually cinnamon rolls. one night while i was living in illinois i was having this kinda dream where a superhero was absolutely pissed off at a security guard for ruining their chance to catch a bad guy. security guard dude was getting wrecked but was also p chipper about it. and also he had daughters, but no wife? and then there was some kinda lawsuit against security dude that i wanted him to deal with.

that dream just kinda bounced around for a few weeks after that, and then i saw a really really cool picture i wish i could find again, it was art of a dude on a crowded bus with flower tattoos, but it was a gif so the tattoos actually bloomed into roses, and i loved it, and i also love crew cuts/fauxhawks and pink hair and then i saw another piece of art by princecanary that i liked and anyway bam we have eli and bam his company is mercury independent. later i was trying to figure out how come he had two daughters but no wife or spouse or whatever and my brain went “oh bc he is a gay divorced man” and it fit so well that i literally could not change any of it if you pointed a gun to my head.

i did waffle a little bit on whether he turned into metal or he controlled plants. plant-controlling eli almost won out, guys, it was so close.

anyway. the literal dreaming of new characters does not happen often, and several characters are actually amalgamations of smaller side characters, or modifications of people i like from, like, tv shows or books or something.