#oc angst

So yes, Wyverns are kinda like horses of this universe. They do carry them on their back in special carriages fitted, as they're incredibly strong and steady creatures. Sometimes, if the Wyvern is well enough trained, you don't even need a rider to guide it to locations (though this is rare).

It's the 10th century since the Great Peace began! Before then, most races either fought or kept to themselves.

■■■■ Tam was born to two college students, Monica Yang and Stephen Tam, in the year 2000. The two were the first of their respective families to pursue college in the United States. They met in 1998 during general education, Stephen asking her for notes to compare after multiple instances of them sitting next to each other. They shared pleasant conversation and exchanged contacts. Over the course of three weeks, they would get closer, officially being friends by the end of the year.

Stephen had a large circle, having grown up in the area and friends from high school who got accepted into the same university. He considered himself humble– he didn’t desire much in life. Just a stable job, a home, and maybe a family if he got lucky. He had little dreams of his own, mostly floating through life and following what every person did. Around him, people commended him for turning out so well, and making such a turnaround compared to his youth. After high school, college seemed like the next logical step. He chose business because that’s what everyone was doing, and what it seemed like he should do. All he had to do was ignore the missed calls and the mournful looks from his old friends, the leech of normalcy drinking at his soul every time he forces himself out of bed, the aches and pains and fear of his mother standing over him, telling him to get up and stop touching the reddened skin on his face. He wanted this, didn’t he? He just needed that one stolen, hastily returned bottle to realize it. This was good. It was right. It just hurts.

Monica spent her entire life learning. Learning how to cook, how to pray, how to sit, how to settle down a baby when her mother got too tired, how to handle the pain of forcing a short, blunt nail to pull up resistant aluminum for her father after a long, hard day at work. By the time she was fifteen, she was set on becoming a teacher. She was partially spurred on by her own teachers; they all seemed like good people, and a good person was the only acceptable thing for a young Chinese girl in a predominantly white neighborhood to become. Monica ignored the chains on her limbs, because they had rusted, and it’s much harder to get rid of rust than to just leave it alone. She was becoming an adult, and adults taught children, so she should do the same. Surrounded by children all her life, largely everyone around her encouraged the goal. Friends would describe her as a kind, nurturing person. Family would describe her to be the perfect wife once she got older— at least, the one she grew up with. That's how she was raised, after all.

On Stephen’s 20th birthday, Monica would ask him out. She thought it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t name the strange, fond warmth that came to her chest when she talked to him, but after a call with her and her mother, she learned it was romance. There was a gnawing at her chest when she said it to herself, and she couldn’t look at herself when she said it in the mirror, but that’s probably normal for all crushes, right? To her relief, Stephen said yes. He didn’t like the expectant look on her face after she asked, saying ‘yes’ felt much better. They ended up making dinner together. It was easy, and simple, so long as Stephen just did what the recipe (and Monica) asked, and both of them already knew how to cook. It felt like any other time together the two would have, aside from waking up in Stephen’s bed the next morning. Both have little recollection of the night, sore and not recognizing the person laying next to them.

Monica would later discover that she was pregnant. Yet another call back home pushed her to keep the baby regardless of Stephen’s input. And she told him, just like her mother told her to do. He didn’t respond for a week. An entire week went by until he looked up at her and told her he’d stay. The two would then get married some time during Monica’s pregnancy, the Tams welcoming her with open arms. She took Stephen's last name. This wasn’t what either of them asked for, but it seemed inevitable, in the way a cut on the finger or the smell of dirt as a coffin lays in it would be. They just hoped it wouldn’t show on the photos. Neither of them wanted to resent ■■■■, but both of them grew used to the feeling. It’s easier to think of something they can see as the cause of their lives being cut off so short.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know.”

“I can’t– I– I don’t want it anymore. I never wanted it.”

“I– It’s okay, Monica. I…I didn’t either.”

“Stephen?”

“...?”

“Don’t…stop looking at me. I don’t want to see you cry.”