#worldsave

Attempting to Recreate an OC. (Color palette could use some work in my opinion.)

World Save was an AU where everything was pretty much the same except that during the war, Save Points were discovered. They were like a collectable item if a person with enough DT could see and interact with them. And like save points work, bring a person back to life in a sense, but only if someone else were to use healing magic on their dusting body because it only keeps the soul from shattering. That was the critical error that had them lost the war. World Save at the moment is waiting for a reboot as all I really have is the concept and a few minor details. So this OC is currently without a world. (I might include him a little bit in some later things like 'Ask …Sans?'.) Here are some of his older designs (old styles from years ago):

it must be strange, to see someone you probably thought lost. i told valkyrie cain and skulduggery pleasant once that eskew was unescapable for those it wanted to stay. that they were a rare, rare thing -- travelers who would likely be permitted to leave. they could show me an exit and i doubted i would even be able to see it. yet here i am, escaped, gone, elsewhere, and yet not truly escaped because i am, once again, the bearer of bad news. it would be nice to show up with good news for once, but it has been so many years since i have been anything but a collection of ill omens that i doubt i'd know what to do with it. i don't know what to do with most good things that come my way.

it was a surprise, after flitting through enough worlds not touched by eskew, relieved to know that maybe, just maybe, it was sated with whatever space it had crawled into.

as if i don't know which world it destroyed. as if i don't know which world i gave it access to, the one i sent my transmissions into like signal flares and watched them die again and again. it was my fault this time. but now, i think, it will eventually try to reach everywhere. then there is no more not-eskew, and only eskew, and maybe that's the eventual end. that, in itself, is a kind of punishment for eskew. nothing to witness it but itself, and i know that feeling, and how hollow that is.

in that way, even if i lose, perhaps i earned some kind of victory by persistence. it's the only thing i've ever been good at. but for now, i am still in the midst of a long-running war. no direct battle. just a long and desperate skirmish, trying to make sure eskew gets only what it has. it's constructive, i think, for everyone to learn to use what they have and not overstep once again.

so it's for that reason alone that i find myself, as if by fate but maybe more by will, somewhere unlike the places i am used to. london was london. eskew sometimes seemed to take notes from old eastern european architecture, rain-soaked and dismal, though the latter was nothing new to me. this doesn't look like that, and i know exactly where to go because i know which places have been touched by eskew. people are sometimes just places, too, with interiors and exteriors and many selves moving through them. this is something i have learned about myself, including in the places where my reflection momentarily peeks through. in panes of glass and puddles.

when valkyrie invites me in, we sit at her table drinking coffee, and i try to explain what happened. maybe she knows. how i am barely solid. how, for a moment, when i brushed past her, maybe she felt nothing at all, or only the whisper of presence. i died and then i did not. i found myself between. then i stayed.