Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! My Question For You Is: What Level Of Education Do Your OCs Have? & Does

happy worldbuilding wednesday! my question for you is: what level of education do your OCs have? & does this affect the story?

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday! Thank you for the Ask, @cabbojage!

My question for you is: what level of education do your OCs have? & does this affect the story?

For the sake of doing something different for this one, I will do this for my cast of MC's from The Last Wrath (my dark fantasy WIP) and Tales of Wilted Flowers (my high fantasy adventure WIP).

THE LAST WRATH:

Raelen Ashiren - Well, most of what Raelen knows was either taught to her by her older brother, Julyan Ashiren, or she somehow managed to learn by herself (likely by stealing books from libraries and archives). She has known how to read and write since she was a young child (this she was taught by their parents when they were still alive), and knows a lot about the history of their world's magic. In the years they lived in Kestrall under the protection of General Teiva, Raelen used to go to the Dragon's Spires and its libraries where she would spend a lot of her time studying - since she wasn't an official dragon rider in training, she was at least allowed to read from their vast and ancient collection of scrolls, but she still stole a lot from the Royal Archives (because some classified arcane magical knowledge was kept there).

Zephyr Tellian - Largely self-taught, even before the Fall of Eldon, Zephyr always sought knowledge by himself - something that, as a street kid, was a very hard thing to do. He taught himself how to read, and write and learned how to do basic spells in the Order of Sorcerers from Eldon, before the war destroyed the kingdom and he had to flee. When he and Jamie managed to get accepted into the Liranthian Academies after succeeding on a tournament, that's when Zephyr was able to get most of his "formal education" as a scholar and sorcerer, though he remained extremely curious and taught himself more than anyone else ever did, until he was one of the Academies' top students ever.

Darian Caelestis - Son of a powerful - and very rich - couple of rebel warriors from Ergyre, Darian had access to the best tutors his parents could find (that would accept to teach a rebel without spying on them of course), and also was so naturally curious that he taught himself a lot of things too, especially about alchemy. He had a complete formal education, from astronomy, to arts, to history, to arcane knowledge, and to maths. In the past, after meeting Tanwin Lyrandeth, Darian learned many things about alchemical magic from his young elven friend too. Out of the main cast Darian perhaps had the best formal education.

Princess Ellinor Dallantes: Being royalty and raised by the leader of the continent's most dangerous and powerful Guild of Assassins, she was very influential. She received a professional education from only the most renowned tutors and rebel scholars in the world and was also largely taught by her adoptive father, Evren (the leader of the Guild), who was incredibly intelligent and knew almost anything about everything. Her education is so profound that it has made her one of the cleverest people on the continent, and she is proficient in almost any subject or matter, as a proper queen should be. On top of that, she received complete combat training during her years in the Guild, becoming one of the deadliest assassins around with almost any weapon one can think of.

Julyan Ashiren - Before their parents died, Julyan was a noble from the most ancient mageborn house alive. This means not only did he have full access to their mansion's library growing up, but also he had some of the best tutors (plus his parents were geniuses). But when their parents died and they were forced to flee from home with no money, protection, or anything, Julyan had to become a parent not only to his little sister, Raelen, but also to their adoptive brother, Azra, and so, despite being incredibly clever and capable, Julyan did not have the resources to seek a professional/formal education as a scholar when he actually became a teen/young adult (because it was a matter of having money to survive/buy food, so he had to work as a weapon's smith, which was one of the few jobs that hired mageborn teens like him)

TALES OF WILTED FLOWERS:

For now, it only has two "MCs" (like main POV characters), even though it has other protagonists

Lorelai Wildwood: Honestly Lorelai had a weird education. Since her father was considered "a traitor" by the kingdom, she got to learn the "other side of the story" that the history books failed to mention, plus, he taught many different things, from astronomy to archery, to alchemy and spell history. (Due to his "traitor" status, none of the city's academies or tutors would accept to train and teach her). Think the "Enola Holmes" kind of education, but factor in the fact that our Lorelai lives in a medieval world with magic. She was also fascinated by the historical tales of the bygone heroes of the past, which inspired her to dream of one day becoming one too, despite the world telling her that she could not because she was a commoner of "tainted blood."

Xarian Argyris: Xarian was highly intellectual and read almost every book the town's library and archives had to offer, as well as being taught alchemy, magic, and healing by his mother figure/aunt. Being a fairy, he learned things quickly and had a strong imagination, as well as being naturally talented when it comes to spellcasting. Xarian was mostly self-taught, even when it comes to complex subjects and difficult magic. When he was 17 he left home to attend a prestigious alchemy academy/medieval university, where he strived to become a magical physician, but there he trusted the wrong person, who majorly derailed his "up-til-then-normal" life.

Okay alright you know what time it iss. After I have escpaed from prison, it's time for anothe eve's weird question time: would you rather have an animated adaptation of your book or live action? Who would play or voice the protagnist (or all the character if you want to ramble. Please do)

Thank you so much for the Ask @your-absent-father! I'm so sorry for the late response, things have been quite busy for me after the weekend lmao.

Would you rather have an animated adaptation of your book or live-action?

Definitely animated. Not only because that would allow much more freedom in fully translating the magical and otherworldly aspects of my WIP's world, but also because - as an art student working on game animation and someone who is a general fan of the animated media - I find that it is important to support the making of new animations (and support it's creators as well). I would love either a 2D anime style for this hypothetical adaption (like the style of Castlevania or Legend of Vox Machina) or a textured mix of 3D and 2D styles (like Arcane or Star Wars: Clone Wars).

Who would play or voice the protagonist (or all the characters if you want to ramble. Please do.)?

I really don't know lmao. Sincerely, mostly because, when it comes to animation, what matters is the person's talent in voice acting, as looks and the acting itself don't factor into the equation quite as much.

But if I had to pick lmao, maybe Ashley Johnson as the voice of Raelen Ashiren, Hailee Steinfeld as the voice of Ellinor Dallantes, Neil Newborn as the voice of Zephyr Tellian, Elle Fanning as the voice of Luciya Anynth and Zachary Levi as the voice of Darian Caelestis. Gosh I dunno lol.

Thank you for the tag, @anoelleart!

3 ships: Solangelo (Nico Di Angelo/Will Solace), Rayllum (Rayla/Callum), Klance (Keith/Lance)

First Ship: Stormpilot (Finn/Poe Dameron)

Last Song: Hellfire - Hunchback of Notre Dame, female cover by Justine M.

Last Movie: Johnny English (2003) and Pirates of The Caribbean: At World's End (2007)

Currently Reading: (I took a bit of reading break in order to write in the last few weeks but) the ending of Journey Through the Hidden Islands by Sarah Beth Durst, and the beginning of Arrows of the Queen by Mercedes Lackey

Currently Watching (Series): Castlevania (the last few episodes of season 3 broke me😭, poor Alucard! I still love the series tho lmao)

Currently Consuming: Nothing, but just ate breakfast

Currently Craving: Some kind of fresh and sweet drink, like iced tea or fruit juice

Tagging: @exquisitecrow @lyutenw @hrmkingizzy @cabbojage @writernopal @clairelsonao3, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs and @aziz-reads

9 people you would like to get to know better

tysm for the tag @alexmey-does-an-arts!

1. 3 ships; bowuigi, metadede, heavy/medic(I forget the name lol)

2. first ever ship; alphyne

3. last song; Ghost Cowboys by Louie Zong

4. last movie; Midsommar. That was…something

5. currently reading; Dante and Aristotle discover the secrets of the universe. Pretty fire

6. currently watching; JCS criminal psychology

7. currently consuming; nothing

8. currently craving; Iced Cream. About to go get it. I know there’s mind chip in my freezer (:

9 people to tag; @littlegreenwyvy, @garf-official, @d1nosaurpower, @tractor-inside-joke-fucker, @junkydoodlez, @seacrown, @neldu-nak, @darkcanid19, @stormyykat

Writeblr Battle Royale - Round 2 Elyren vs Herschel

Hi, there! I am taking part in @your-absent-father's amazingly fun event, Writeblr Battle Royale, where I and other cool writeblrs choose our most powerful OCs and make them fight in an interdimensional arena. It's chaotic, it's badass, and more importantly, it is FUN (:<

This is also the second round!

Important: These events are not canon to our stories! They're just something very cool we as writers have decided to subject our characters to, for the sake of writing practice and Fun tm, though it is completely unrelated to our projects and the characters' actual experiences in the books.

Check out the rules and other amazing fight scenes at @writeblrbattleroyale!

TWs: guns, blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, burning/fire, hallucinating about a dead loved one's ghost, suicide, violence, repressed emotions.

In this fight my teenage elven sorcerer Elyren faces off against Herschel (@quisyop's character), in a new, more dangerous arena - a maze filled with deadly monsters.

Herschel’s head was pounding, horrible visions danced at the edges of his eyes. Bodies and death, family and friends burning and screaming. He felt his body shake and swerve, an aura of confusion covering him. His vision went dark. And he woke up to the dark green shades of a vast, vast maze.

Elyren blinked, eyes adjusting to the world around him as a new arena came into view. How great… He thought, before noticing the strange looking woman staring intently at him. She looked like a Fortune Teller, somewhat. He’d meant to ask who she was, but he wasn’t given that time. As she pointed at him, the world around him became blurred, like a strange dark fog. Elyren shook his head. Well, this isn’t ideal. The fog twisted and stretched, spiralling around him. Elyren couldn’t tell where he was, nor could he precisely tell what was happening or where he was going. Until he heard that voice, twisted and filled with hatred, but still painfully familiar.

"You did not save us.” The voice hissed, and Elyren whirled around. “All that happened, was because of you. It’s all your fault - I was foolish enough to believe you could be any different.” Elyren shook his head, speechless, staring at the bloodied ghost, he didn’t know what to say. Memories from that night assaulted his mind, the day that Elyren could never seem to forget playing out vividly before him. “We are dead because of you!”

Elyren bit back the urge to sob, struggling not to look away from the familiar ghost of his brother. “T-that’s not true. You were killed, I tried to save you. I- I am still trying to save you.”

“Liar. You went to that temple. Aeralyn followed you, I followed you. And following you led us straight to that Imperial scout. If you had only listened to me, for once in your stupid life, I would be alive. We would all be alive. But you had to screw that up too, didn't you? You deserved to be exiled.”

Elyren frowned, no longer trying to hold back the tears. He wanted to believe this wasn’t real. Kiran would never say these things, he’d never speak to him with such hatred. But that didn’t matter, because, at the end of the day, Elyren knew the truth. And the truth is that he always screwed things up. Even this. The world began to spin around him viciously, the ghost never once wavering from his accusatory glare. YOUR FAULT. Elyren placed both his hands tightly over his ears as the vision grew in intensity, spinning wildly like a hurricane around him, before it dissipated, fading away just like it appeared. And the winding maze appeared before him. With great effort to stop his hands from shaking, Elyren sighed, wiping away the remaining tears from this horrifying encounter, the rageful voice still screaming at the back of his mind as he steeled himself for the fight to come. Let’s just get this over with.

“Shit.” Herschel’s head pounded as he pushed himself off the grimy floor below him and tried to get a good understanding of where the hell he was. “Shit”. He, still shaking, checked his pockets and supplies. Not much. His gun, a couple of matches, and a small knife. (as well as some cash and things that wouldn’t help) The gun was still missing two bullets. “Shit!” He took a couple of moments to breathe and collect his thoughts. Three things were clear to him.

He was stuck in a maze, presumably by the… thing from the match before.

He would probably kill another at the end of this. Or be killed, a thought that… no, they could work together. He wouldn’t die.

He was having a hell of a bad day.

Herschel stuck his hand out and pressed it against the wall of the maze, ready to follow it to, hopefully, the end. He passed the place he started in 7 minutes.

First, he took a look around, taking in his surroundings. The walls of the maze were high, so climbing them was out of the question. There were multiple pathways he could take, though clearly only one would lead him to where he needed to go - and judging by whatever it was that had trapped them here, those pathways would likely be riddled with traps and gods know what other monstrosities. Elyren shook his head, taking a deep breath. There was no time to be rash or get lost in this place. If he wanted to be out of here, his only option was to get through this as swiftly as possible, face his next opponent and see where this takes him next.

Trying to focus searched his mind for a spell that could help. If he couldn’t go around this thing nor climb up, then his best option was go through. And he knew exactly the spell to guide him to where he needed to be.

With a twist of his hands and a few muttered words, glowing runes appeared before him, flashing a floating mix of purples and greens that lit up the dim maze. Elyren focused his mind at the center of the small glowing ball of light commanding it.

Lead me to the center of this arena, find my opponent. The runes buzzed, small sparks flying from it at the command, and after a small pause, it shot fowards, drawing a glowing line into one specific pathway of the arena and then further. Elyren smirked, and wasted no time following this guiding light towards his opponent. Now it was just a matter of time. Despite focusing on not losing sight of the runes, Elyren knew he should be careful, after all, he did not know what this maze was nor what lurked within it.

So, while running ahead, he kept watchful attention fixed on any signs of threats from his surroundings. That’s why - after what seemed like an eternity of running from corridor to corridor -when he heard that bellowing growl approaching from one of his sides, Elyren was not caught of guard, quickly making a sharp turn on an opposite pathway and pressing himself hidden against the wall, just as a strange looking beast lunged into the corridor he’d been standing moments prior, tracking, ready to strike at any small sound. He peeked over the wall, only ever so slightly.

The monster looked like nothing he'd ever seen before, mutated even. Elyren made himself quiet, controlling his breathing so as not to give away his hiding spot. From the corner of his eye, he could see his guiding spell was still within reach, floating next to one of the doorways, waiting for him. He needs to figure something out. Now.

Herschel had simply accepted that this maze was either

A deeply complex magical construct that shifted and moved with the explorer

Was a circle

He chose to ignore that latter possibility, figuring that he’d just have to explore the good old-fashioned way. With each step on rocky earth that had the texture of smooth marble, he felt his legs shake with more speed and strength. He shouldn’t have been walking so much. But he wasn’t. It was a short walk, probably barely half a mile, but his legs felt weighted down and cramped quickly through his travel. When the texture of the ground turned from slippery marble to a texture like sandpaper, Herschel went cramped up and slowed down, taking more effort in his watchful gaze. Then the headache of the sweetly sick smell of cotton candy found its way to his nose. It made him want to vomit, combined with the heat that he found himself feeling. The noise of a sharp blade on concrete alerted me to the beast that found itself on the corner of a turn. It launched at him, claws like broken shards of glass aimed at my chest. He barely slid out of the way and whipped my cane up in defense. He got a better sight of it, pale skin stretched taut against bones that turned in angles too sharp and pointed to be human. Attached to its body were vague estimations of what limbs should look like, more lumps of flesh stacked on top of each other than neatly designed appendages built from years of evolution. Teeth like freshly molded hot red glassware shined at me in the glaring sunlight from the skies above.

“Oh hell no…”

Herschel charged forward, using his cane as a makeshift staff and swinging it at the leg closest to him. The beast's leg snapped easily, bone poking out of its skin. It reacted in rage, swinging its neck at an inhumane angle and lunging at Herschel, who swiftly shoved the came in its mouth, trapping the teeth shut.

While it whipped its head around trying to free itself, he pulled his revolver out and shot twice in the thing's chest. A thick, viscous liquid burst out of it as if held in by tight pressure, its color remaining Herschel of the dark red of mahogany. Herschel wiped the sludge from his mouth and leaned down to pull the came out of the thing’s open maw. He pulled it out with ease and reached down to break off the teeth of the creature, ready to use it as a replacement weapon. The monstrosity snapped its jaw shut with its final wisps of life, tearing a long wound down his arm as he recoiled his arm.

“FUCK!” It was dead now. But Herschel was close to the same fate. Now without a way to support himself, he found his way to the corpse’s pierced leg, bone still fresh with blood. He steadied himself and pulled on the bone, with as much force as he could with his undamaged right hand (he’s a leftie!) and found himself smothering a cough of vomit as the dripping fragment slid out. So now he had a cane and needed a way to stop the bleeding.

He took an admittedly short glance at the torn skin of the beast before deciding against it. He slid off his glamorous furry coat and pressed it against the open cut. He stifled a cry of pain as the strands of fluff pressed against it and absorbed the pain. After a minute of recovery, he continued onward with his warped bone as a cane and an improvised bandage, deeper into the maze.

With practiced ease, Elyren reached for his runic bow, soundlessly nocking the arrow and pulling the string taut. Peeking behind the thick wall behind him, Elyren could see the beast stalking, mercifully distracted by the glow of his guiding spell - still floating on the other side of the corridor - like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

Carefully, he adjusted his position, placing the arrow on the corner of the wall, taking delicate aim. Elyren narrowed his eyes - the beast just keeps moving. He’d never been a great hunter, but this is ridiculous. Holding back the urge to scoff, Elyren took a cautious step forward, bow string still pulled taut, as he cast flaming blue runes onto the arrow’s tip - as silently as he could manage it, muttering the spell’s words under his breath. After all, there was no telling how good this beast’s hearing was. Once he was sure his aim was somewhat true, pointed carefully to what he assumed was the beast’s heart, he finally let the arrow fly and it lodged itself onto the creature’s thick flesh with a burning hiss. Good, that means the runes worked.

The monster howled, throwing its clawed paws up in the air in pained fury. Elyren was swift to press his back onto the wall once more, hiding himself from the creature’s sight - at least for now. He needed something to hide, and since this terrain provided little in terms of shelter or higher ground, he’d just have to get creative. The invisibility shroud. He’d done it before, in the previous fight, and it worked out well enough. Though there was still no telling whether or not this beast couldn’t track him by smell or hearing, though given it’s inability to find him behind the wall, it was likely that it relied strongly on its sight.

That’s it! He thought, biting back a triumphant laugh. I’ll use the shroud, blind the beast, and then go for the killing blow, whatever that may be. Perfect! As the creature prowled the hallways behind him with increasing fury - the runic spell still burning its necrotic flames inside its flesh driving the beast mad - Elyren knew what to do. It took no time for him to cast his invisibility runes, though he was careful enough to conceal them as well this time. Won’t make that mistake again. He thought, recalling how he amaterishly neglected hiding the runes in his prior fight, and how that cost him dearly. He also carefully placed his now empty bow on his back once more.

Now completely shrouded in invisibility, Elyren moved, steps light as featherfalls on the concrete floor beneath him. Now the tables were turned, he figured, as he was the one stalking the beast that had meant to kill him moment’s prior. That brought a satisfied smirk to his fine features, but he pressed on, reminded of the urgency of this moment as the beast rounded the corner right in front of him. He stopped, and the beast whirled its head from side to side, confusedly looking for the one responsible for the necromantic arrow on its back, but finding nothing.

As fast as he could manage, Elyren quickly got to work on his next spell, the same necrotic flames of the arrow now floated before his hands, hidden by the shroud, ready to blind the beast before him. He just needed the right moment. Unwilling to wait too long, Elyren whistled, loudly bringing the beast’ attention in the direction of the hallway where he was standing, though it still had no clear path to where he was in order to strike. Just as soon as the beast’s sight focused on his path, Elyren struck, blueish green flames flying directly onto the monster’s glowing eyes. And the beast howled, flames searing through it’s flesh like acid burning through paper, melting down it’s eyes closed. For good.

Wasting no time, and taking advantage of the beast’s confusion, Elyren pulled out both of his runic daggers, lunging towards the scrambling beast with a viper’s precision. This, he knew how to do, killing swiftly was second-nature to him after the War.

Aiming for the exposed throat of the thrashing mutated monster, after dodging a lucky strike of the monster’s impossibly sharp claws, Elyren aimed for the bulging veins upon its exposed throat. With another swift sidestep, his daggers plunged onto the waiting neck from both sides. With considerable effort, as the beast continued it’s agonizing thrashing - one of his clawed paws tearing a deep gash on the side of his leg - Elyren was able to sever the monster’s skeletal head from it’s shadowy, lion-like shoulders. As the strange head rolled on the floor, the body went limp, spasming one last time before promptly falling forwards, blood splashing all over his dark robes. Well fuck, this is going to be hells to wash off - Stumbling backwards, Elyren shakily supported himself on a nearby wall as his now-injured leg trembled and gave out, dark arterial blood seeping onto his clothes faster than it should. His invisibility shroud swiftly fell around him, revealing him to any incoming threats. This is not ideal.

Pain shot upwards from the injured leg, and he cried out, hand instinctively reaching out to press onto the wound, and scrunched up eyes going wide as soon as he felt how deep that gash truly was. Looking up at the dead monster’s body, shakily, he confirmed his suspicions. In the monster’s now still claws was a ripped up strip of a familiar cloth, tangled with - Elyren realized with a sudden urge to vomit - strips of his own ripped up flesh. Shivering, Elyren closed his eyes, turning his head away from the gorily unpleasant sight. There were other matters at hand. Like not bleeding to death before the real fight even began.

He knew what he needed to do - he’d done it many times before. It doesn’t mean it is any less horrifying to consider. Before a quick pause, mentally going over the correct spell, Elyren finally made his decision. His left hand glew bright with searing flames - normal ones this time, like what one may find at a campfire - and he moved to hover it above the gaping wound, hesitating for a mere moment. He knew many spells for killing, many more for controlling the dead and causing fatal harm, but he awfully lacked knowledge of how to heal things, especially on himself. I’ll have to work on that, I can’t keep roasting myself everytime I almost die. Gods, I should’ve listened to Kiran when he told me to learn more about alchemy, shouldn’t I?

Gritting his teeth tightly, Elyren decided to be quick about this. The quicker the flame, the quicker the pain. Swiftly, he all but slapped the flaming hand above the wound, beginning to sear it closed. An inhuman howl left him, despite his attempts to bite back his pain, and Elyren barely acknowledge the warm tears sliding down his face, all his thoughts focused on the gash burning closed on his leg.

The godsforsaken smell that rose from it was quickly becoming too much to bear, blood sizzling into evaporation making Elyren want to vomit even more. Swallowing back the bile, as more tears fell from his eyes, it pulled away the hand. Elyren looked down, gasping for air, and examined his handiwork. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, and though the burn was one of the most cursed sights he ever saw in his life, his leg was still functional. Good.

Elyren shuddered, taking a moment to steady himself as the white hot pain turned into a dull - equally unbearable - throb upon his leg’s charred skin. After a moment of testing his footing underneath him, Elyren finally felt confident enough to push away from the wall, taking a stumbling step towards the guiding spell still floating next to that strange doorway.

Limping over, Elyren slowly realized how far he was into the maze. The sounds of the cheering audience were distant, but present, and looking up, he could not see the arena’s higher walls anywhere close. He was at the middle of the arena, he realized. And his opponent was likely waiting for him on the other side of this next corridor. Walking slowly became less agonizing, as Elyren forced himself to become used to the insistent pain, pushing it to the back of his mind, determined to win this fight. Quickly.

Crossing this hallway, in his compromised speed as his leg all but dragged behind him, took a long moment, and as he made one final turn left, the spell dissipated. Elyren saw where he was. A wider clearing, in the very center of the arena, or so he assumed. And before him, his strange-looking opponent was waiting. Well, the spell was not wrong, he figured, bracing himself for the fight he knew was coming.

As Herschel’s final gasps of air were about to leave him, he locked eyes with a young… man? His skin was the color of the swirling sea, the undertones a deep indigo. His hair was long and silvery, falling down to his shoulders that were covered in a dark cloak. His leg was torn open and burned from methods that were ambiguous to Herschel. He didn’t know if this thing was another beast, a foe, or a potential friend. But he saw the look in his eye- one he, too, once had. A look of fear, and an urge to strike out at potential danger. He wanted to help this kid.

“Hey! You! You know what I’m saying?”

The strange looking man limping in the arena before him stopped in his tracks, leaning into a short bone for support. Elyren tried not to think where that bone had come from. He was slightly thrown off by this man’s attire, which looked like nothing he’d seen before in Agrannor. Well, he shrugged, still not weirder than all of this. Nothing can be weirder than this fucking situation. He quickly noticed how exhausted his opponent looked, but also did not fail to see how this person seemed to be analyzing him, as if checking to see if he was any threat. Subconsciously, one of his hands reached for the handle of his dagger, but din’t unsheath it. Just placed it next to the blade. Waiting for the man’s next move. Through the ringing of his ears, and the annoying pain shooting up from his blistered leg, he noticed the man was speaking to him. Adjusting himself and his hearing, Elyren finally understood it. “Hey! You! You know what I’m saying?” The man asked, and Elyren tilted his head.

“Yes, I do understand you. Why?” He questions, his sharp accent echoing around the arena. There was deep confusion in his eyes, but curiosity as well.

“I’m guessing you want to kill me? Like all the fucking things here?” Herschel had taken a casual posture, but kept a tight grip on the bone in his hand. “We don’t have to, you know! Violence isn’t the answer, as they say! …you probably don’t know what that means, don’t you… never mind! Just… don’t hit me preferably!”

Elyren narrowed his eyes at the man’s answer. One particular choice of word struck him quite harshly, though he was aware that this might not have been the man’s intention. Thing. “Like all of these fucking things up here?”

He remembered how it was like, in his past. Being hunted for sport, treated like cattle for slaughter. Just another abomination the Temple of Radiance had to eliminate. Just another thing.

Shakily, he shook his head. Now was not the time for this. He needed to think clearly, Elyren told himself, as he awkwardly took a steadying breath in, though it hitched. He didn’t know whether it was at the pain on his leg or the memories the word brought up. What a day.

“... Thing? No. Don’t you ever call me that again!” Elyren said, arms crossing over his chest protectively. “I’m not a thing. I am a person.” He paused, calming himself down and recalling the rest of the man’s response. “And no, I do not want to kill you. But… what choice do we have? How else can I get out of here?”

Despite himself, his lower lip quivered, before he forced his anger to return to his stony facade once again, speaking under his breath. “You’re not the only one afraid here.”

Herschel could feel the sting that his words dealt.

“No, you’re no “thing”, you’re right. You’re a magnificently complex miracle of nature, and whoever has said otherwise is wrong.” He paused when he heard the young man open up, realizing it must have been a hard thing for him to do. Herschel squatted down and placed his weapons on the ground, clearly showing himself to be unarmed. “You need a hug? Because I think I do too.”

Elyren paused, frozen like a statue. “... What?...” The word left his mouth almost without him realizing it. The man had apologized, sincerely in fact, for his slip up. And had offered him a hug. A hug? Elyren thought. What an unusual request for someone trapped in a deadly combat. He frowned slightly, considering if this was a trap or in earnest, eventually realizing it was the latter. A hug would be nice, he figured. No one ever hugged him after Kiran died. Most people just try to kill him on sight, like he is a pest or something disposable. This is new. This is… nice, if it is true. “... A hug would be great, honestly…" He ran a hand through his now tousled hair and shurgged, trying to be nonchalant and not awkward "Sure, why not."

Herschel strides forward, arms outstretched. A look of sad empathy is found in his eyes, but he covers it with a welcoming smile. As he reaches the peak of his stride, the noise a loud howl screeches out into the air. “Fuck.”

Herschel dashes forward and grabs Elyren swiftly, pulling him behind a scenic bush. “I’m sorry for the sudden push, and I’ll get you that hug in a moment, but it looks like we got a bigger problem in our hands right now. You seem like an efficient killer, but please keep yourself safe. If it comes to it, I can kill it. You don’t have to die.

The bellowing roar shrills through the air, chilling his blood within him, as his opponent - or should he call him friend? - drags him to safety behind what looks like a bush, but feels more like metal than anything else. Falling to the ground behind it, it took everything he had to bite back the cry of pain from the impact on his wounded leg, but he managed. In his shock, Elyren listened carefully register the man’s hurried words, as the beast’s footfalls echoed in the arena around him, menacingly.

Carefully, he peeked from behind his shelter, seeing a giant monster with a large toothed mouth. It was green, and grey, and looked like a mix between a praying mantis and a dragon. It was horrible, and he hated it already. Frowning, however, as he slipped back down out of side, he mulled over the man's words. “What? No. You’re not fighting that alone. I’m still breathing, that means I can still fight, and I’m not backing out from this. So, let’s kill this thing. Got a plan?” He said, slipping his bow back into his hands, and steadying their shaking as he moved to nock an arrow.

His words were hushed as he kept crouched down behind the “bush” out of the monster’s line of sight. He hoped. Elyren noticed the human’s worried glances to his injury - which admitedly was horryfying to look at - and tried to give him a reassuring smirk, which faltered into a pained grimace. He wasn’t sure at all. “Don’t worry about the leg. I’ve had a lot worse.”

Elyren didn't know if even he himself believed the words he just spoke, but there wasn't time to discuss it.

Herschel grimaces at the cut, but chooses to trust Elyren’s statement. “I left my weapons on the other side of the room, so I’ll join you in a second.”

As Herschel moves to stand up, Elyren stops him with a firm hold on his arm.

"Rule number one of survival: Never part with all your weapons. No one needs to know how many of them you have in the first place." Elyren says, as he gives Herschel one of his many daggers.

“Thanks! Little rusty, but should be good!” Then, Herschel looked at the beast. It was massive, almost double his height, and its limbs resembled jagged stone in their strange shape. Its natural armor was the color of sea glass, and its head jutted out strangely from the neck.

Without thinking twice, Herschel ran to the other side of the creature, swinging away from the stab of its arm and preparing to strike. “The name’s Herschel, by the way!” He yells out as he dashes towards the beasts side and manages to slice into its underbelly.

Elyren narrows his eyes as his new ally runs straight towards the monster, and sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't know why I am doing this, but alright then." He mumbles under his breath as he casts a shield spell, not for himself, but for the reckless human currently right beside the furious creature.

"Good to know your name!" He yells out, standing up fully to take good aim at the beast's neck, unprotected by its back armor. "My name is Elyren Tyrvommira. Just call me Elyren because yes, the surname is terrible for humans to pronounce, so don't worry about it."

On the other side of the arena, face to face with the monster, Herschel frowns, trying to figure out a way to pronounce Elyren's surname even though he was told not to. "Ty-ra-vom-Ira? … You know what, nevermind”

Elyren laughs, "Told you. Just forget it, oh Gods."

Herschel, now holding on the dagger as it pulls through the insect-like monster, quickly darts his eyes Elyren as strange glowing lines and circles appear around his hand. Herschel stares at them as they float around Eylren’s wrist, and is shocked out of it when he flys backward when the creature slams it's leg against his skull. But he feels no pain. Only the energy of the hit seems to transfer, and seconds later, Herschel is back up and grabbing his cane off the floor. “Thanks for whatever the hell that was!”

Elyren smirks. The spell worked - that's good. He rarely ever had to cast a shield for someone else, and it required a bit more concentration than usual, but at least it gave his newfound ally a fighting chance against whatever this monster was.

As the beast threw its head to the side to try and catch Herschel, it left its long, sinewy neck fully exposed. Perfect. Elyren coated his arrow with necromantic flames once more, and let it fly. The sharp tip lodged itself deep onto the thankfully exposed flesh with a gnarly hiss.

As the flames started to consume the skin and flesh of the very-much-still-alive monster, Elyren suddenly felt a jolt of dizziness, struggling to recover his concentration on the shield spell for a brief moment as his leg flared up brutally. Well, the hazards of being a sorcerer He thought, hand hovering over the burn on his leg as the other still clutched the bow.

After a short moment, his focus on the spell returned completely, but opening his eyes revealed an unforeseen reality.

Upon trying to handle both his pain and the spells, he had forgotten to hide himself from sight. And the monster was currently racing it's bug like form towards him, despite the flames currently eating at its neck. No time to think, just run.

"A little help would be nice! Quickly. Like right now!" Elyren screamed, trying his best to limp away from the quickly approaching monster, which was now furious. He didn't have time to nock another arrow, nor to cast another spell with his compromised focus. His only chance now lied in his ability to find a better position to stab this thing. If he could manage to escape it's claws in time

He stumbled, almost falling to the floor, and his injured leg locked in place, refusing to move as a wrong step shoots more pain through his very core. Elyren looked up. The monster was almost upon him. He braced himself for the inevitable. But the bite never came.

Herschel only had a couple of seconds to process whatever the hell was going down with the glowing runes, because the beast was dashing toward his ally at a breakneck pace. Herschel took a swift breath and dashed at the thing, cane in his torn left hand.

He brought the bone down with all the force he could on the thing’s leg, which was already ablaze with madly flowing, flesh-consuming strikes of fire. A sick pop could be heard throughout the maze as it made contact and the thing’s head twisted as if on a swivel. Herschel fell to the ground, clutching his arm, as the beast shakes and twists beside him.

“You… good? Might have some… I can give you my clothing of you’re bleeding."

Elyren pants, out of breath as he puts all his weight on his uninjured leg. He might have miscalculated the damage his previous encounter in the maze had caused him - his leg was all but torn, held together only by the clumsy cauterizing he'd cast. It was... agonizing.

Watching from afar, he saw as the beast stopped in its tracks, his ally tackling its leg with his cane. He shook his head at his ally's question, taking a shaking, rattling breath to try and think through the pain.

Running had only made it worse, he realized that now, but there was no time. "... I'm not bleeding, I think hng I ... made it stop. It just hurts. A lot" He blissfully keeps out the details of how the previous monster had torn away a chunk of his leg, which was now an open wound, and how he had to sear it closed by himself. There was no need for the other to worry more. He positioned himself out of the struggling beast's reach.

It had been deterred but was recovering remarkably fast, climbing onto its remaining legs as it let out a blood-curdling howl. "But we don't have time. We need... to end this." Elyren choked out, forcing his voice to sound even and strong, clutching his dagger as he scrambled in his mind for a plan. "If I... If I can restrain it, can you help kill it?" He called out, drawing the beast's attention onto him with a whistle as he awaited the other's response.

Across from him, Herschel staggers up. “Hell yeah, man.”

He poses his staff above the thing’s neck where the arrow had pierced, ready to slam it in like a hammer and nail. “This is gonna get bloody!”

Elyren nodded. Closing his eyes, glowing purple runes appeared on the arena's floor, as the concrete stone started to rearrange itself onto chains. Focusing on it, Elyren ordered the chains to latch onto the creature's back, restraining it constrictively. Hands stretched out, Elyren made the stony chains tighten around it, all his remaining strength channeled into keeping the thrashing monster held onto the now broken floor from which the chains had sprouted. This wouldn't last for long, but it was the chance they needed it. He met his ally's gaze and nodded again. New runes - another spell - formed around Herschel's staff, marking its end sharper, giving them a greater chance to kill this thing. Out of breath, struggling to hold both spells at once and ignore his growing pain, Elyren ordered, a panicked lilt to his voice.

"... Do it! Now, do it now!"

With his last breaths as blood poured from his open wound, Herschel’s staff was lifted in a high arc above his head and slammed into the creature’s skull. An explosion of blood covered his lower body, and he felt himself kneel to the ground as his body gave up beneath him. But he rose back up, using his bone as a weight to hold himself. He shakily lifted his hand and brought a thumbs up to Elyren. He managed to cough out, “How about that hug?” before collapsing into the stone floor.

Elyren keened, finally able to let go of the spells he'd been holding onto. His head ached like it had been smashed with a hammer, and he could barely feel his feet. All that he could feel was pain, shooting up from his charred, torn leg.

His vision swimmed, for a moment, and Elyren felt as if the ground was moving beneath him, which he knew from experience was a tell-tale sign of being about to pass out. Closing his eyes tightly, he forced his body to steady, breathing through the pain until the dizziness stopped and the ground felt even once again.

He opened his eyes just in time to see his ally collapse. Elyren felt an unexpected surge of worry. Had Herschel been injured? Elyren analysed the other, looking for visible injuries. The monster's blood was dark as tar, which made it incredibly easy to see the growing crimson stain in the other's clothes, around a wound. Oh.

With his leg dragging behind him, insistently numb and agonizing at the same time, Elyren was able to limp over towards Herschel, who was now waiting for him just around the fallen monster between them. Once he reached the other, Elyren paused. "... Yeah, a hug... sounds about nice... right now," He reached out a hand. "Do you want to... get up... or do you prefer to stay sitting down...? Either way it's - it's fine. For me. You helped out... a lot... in the battle. "

Herschel speaks softly. “It’s fine… I can…” He tries to move himself but his body refuses. “Sorry, I… don’t think I can.” He reaches out to hug Elyren.

Elyren notices the other's struggle and nods. "Don't try to.. get up. I'll get .... to you, sorry." Wincing, Elyren lowered himself into a seated position so that the hug was easier to achieve, Elyren responded with an awkward, distant, but gentle hug. He hoped his lack of practice in such things wasn't so apparent, but he knew it was. Gods, I'm pathetic. How can I not remember how to hug?

They stayed like that for a while. It was nice, Elyren realized, leaning a bit more into the hug before letting go. This was his first hug in years, and only now had he realized how much he'd missed it - being hugged. He stiffled a small sob at the thought, before clearing his throat.

After the hug ended, they stayed on the floor, just sitting side by side. Elyren's gaze wandered upwards, towards the tallest wall of the arena. The wall from where M - and likely hundreds of others - were watching these fights. He set his jaw tightly, thinking.

"... What now? I - I mean. How do we get out of this? We were... supposed to fight, but now, I can't do this, I don't want to do this."

I just want to go home. The thought dies in his throat before he can bring himself to say it out loud.

Herschel takes a breath, one loaded with sorrow hidden by years of practice. “Don't worry. I can fix this.” He slips out his gun and presses it into Elyren’s hand. He guides it up as Elyren stares at it, confused. He presses it against his own forehead, as the young elf holds the gun.

"What is this? I don't understand." Elyren asked, confused, trying to pull the gun away from Herschel's grasp, to pull it away from his forehead, but the other did not let go. Despite not knowing what this contraption was, Elyren somehow felt it was nothing good. "W-what does it do? Tell me what does this do, let it go-"

Herschel whispers calmly to Elyren. “It’s a way for both of us to be happy here. When I say so, you’ll pull the trigger- the little thing on the bottom- and it’ll fix the problems. And hey, the next one that comes along, just point this thing at it, using those fun little glowy things from before if you’d like, and it’ll fix the problem too.”

Herschel, strangely, doesn't feel fear or anxiety. At least for himself. He realizes, after a moment, that he has one last message for Elyren.

“Don’t let anyone pretend that you aren’t a person. That you aren’t a sentient being. Because you are, kiddo, and I know with all my heart that you’ll do good. I… believe in you… if that matters.” With that, he makes a gesture with his hand to signify to press the trigger.

Elyren's hands shook. He listened to the other's words, trying to understand what they truly meant. This didn't look like a nice thing. This... this looked like a weapon. Realization hit him faster than a falcon - Herschel was trying to give him a way to kill him without a fight. Whatever this did, it was - he hoped - an easy way out. For the both of them. Despite still not wanting to do this, despite hating this with every fiber of his being, Elyren forced his hands to obey, moving to clutch the weapon with both his hands, holding it more precisely. Tears were falling unbidden from his eyes, Herschel's last comment made Elyren choke up, more tears following suit. He'd waited for so long to hear those words. That he is not a monster. That he can do good. How twisted is the hand of fate that he now has to kill the person who just said the words he'd been waiting for so long. Elyren stammered, trying to breathe through his sobbing but failing. "...Thank you. F-for what you said. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry...!"

All Herschel did in response is clasp his hand on Elyren’s, holding it firm. He nodded in understanding.

Elyren took a deep breath, steadying his hands one last time. Pull the trigger, Herschel had told him. What is a trigger? He thought to himself, carefully leaning over to see within the weapon, and maneuvers his shaking fingers to clumsily but carefully rest upon what he thought was the trigger. I'm so sorry.

He barely presses the mechanism, and a loud, awfully loud sound echoes around the arena. Elyren screams, ears ringing from the unexpected sound. Blood splatters onto his face due to the proximity, and as Herschel falls limply to the floor, a hole upon his forehead, Elyren watches numbly the pool of blood grow.

He's frozen, unable to move. Everything feels too much, and he feels too numb. His hands are still wrapped around the handle of this strange contraption called a gun. He hates this. He hates himself. Shivering, he moves to lower the gun, but his shaking fingers cause him to drop it, clattering onto the bloodied floor before him, like it's accusing him.

Elyren forces himself to look away from the corpse of his ally, the newfound friend he'd been forced to kill, turning his back to what he had to done. Like he always did. People always died because of him. Maybe the illusion of Kiran's ghost was right, after all. And now, he waited. He had won. It doesn't mean he has to like it. Right now, with the distant cheers of the audience echoing around him and the corpse of his ally beside him, Elyren wished he could just not think at all.

At least for a while, before he would be forced to go through these hells again soon.

Thanks for the Tag, @doublegoblin! I watch too many movies and series to even count, but I guess I can narrow it down to 4 comfort movies for this tag (as in movies that make me feel good and happy any time I watch them, and which I watch a lot lol)!

The Birdcage (1996)

Guardians of the Galaxy 2 (2017)

The Mummy Returns (2001)

Kung Fu Panda 2 (2011)

+ Bonus!

Anything Star Wars-related! (Especially the Rebels series and Clone Wars, but the movie prequels as a whole hold a special place in my heart <3)

Pirates of the Caribbean (the whole series)

Tagging (gently): @writernopal, @clairelsonao3, @lyutenw, @cabbojage, @rickie-the-storyteller, @your-absent-father and @exquisitecrow

this is going around twitter rn but im also super curious: please tell me your top four comfort movies that you’re always down to watch bc my friend thinks mine are ridiculous and now we’ve realised everyone’s version of “comfort” is hilariously different

My ask box is open!

You know, an interesting tumblr transformation that's happened gradually, and which I've seen no one talk about: ask-culture has essentially dropped off to nothing.

By which I mean, asks used to be WAY more of the tumblr economy. They used to be more common to send, and receive, and see. They were integral to the collaborative, forum-like behavior of old tumblr communities, not even to speak on the HUGE number of ask-blogs that used to exist to only be interacted with in ask-form.

I'm not saying this in a vying-for-attention way but instead in an observational way: I used to get way way more asks in like 2015, even with a fraction of my follower count. I wonder if it's due to the homogenization of social media sites? There's a lot more of this divide between "content creator" and "consumer" instead of just a bunch of peer blogs who would talk to each other. "Asks" aren't really a thing on twitter, are they? And as I understand it, the closest thing to an "ask" on instagram or tiktok would be a creator screenshotting some comment and responding to it in a new reel or video or whatever those content mediums are. Are asks just too tumblr-specific? Is that aspect of the site culture dying out as more and more people converge to using all their social media sites in the same way?