Verdance

I try. It’s fun. I just want to make sure I’m part of the story, but not necessarily the main character

Night opens her eyes. “He is not my character. He is not a character at all. He is a violent force, meant to test the Thread. If you wish to ‘screw’ with him while the Thread is distracted, you will bear the consequences.

Well then don’t yank him out of a black hole and let him do whatever he wants :3 Sanguine suddenly shivers. Cold air leaks onto his back. He turns. “Hello, 9/10mmHB#2.” 9/10 doesn’t respond, instead cutting a rift with Futility into deep space, kicking Sanguine back into Night’s clutches. “You’re early!”, he shouts at the demon, before disappearing into another rift. He had other business to take care of. The mordite blade was still vibrating. Something was calling out to the mordite. He aligned with the rhythm and cut a rift to Malevolence’s evil lair, where one of Rebus’ clones was. @DragonHeir

You are dead set on Sanguine entering the plot early, aren’t you. Sanguine approaches with glee, body morphing, growing sharpened, blood red armor plates. One of the villagers notices him and raises the alarm.

Sanguine arbitrarily decides that the destruction of the Thread should wait until the genocide of this planet is complete. He stalks off, looking for someone to kill. He seems to have a bit of a one track mind.

“Mhm. The beauty of art is that you get to make it how you want it.”

“Easily enough. What do you want to look like?” His face brightened, and he uncapped the pen and flipped to a blank page in his notebook.

Inkwell blinks. “‘Cause from his perspective, you’re stuck in his body. I should know. That was me.” Cleo pounces on the starhawk, which falls over dramatically. “Besides. If he’s hurt you that much, he’s bound to hurt someone someday who will hurt him back. And the satisfaction that you didn’t have to lay a finger on him and he still got what’s coming? Well, maybe I shouldn’t force you to make that promise, so I’ll leave it up to you.”

The sensation is familiar. Memories of being trapped in his own body while a demon tries to kill someone out of pure fear. His heart breaks a little. “Oh. That’s not great. He taps a black and white pen against his forehead. “But I think I can definitely help with that. if I do, you’re going to have to promise me something. Whoever’s body you occupy right now? You let them live their own life. Let them get into trouble and deal with the consequences, no revenge for whatever they have put you through. Alright?”

Inkwell nods. “Nice to meet you, Isabel.” He gets up, and Cleo hops down to play tag with the starhawk. “Well, you look healthy enough. Is there something I’m missing?” He is unaware of the man’s existence.

Inkwell turned on the stool, yawning. “Well, it’s nice to know she’s still up there. What’s your name? I’m Inkwell, and this is-“ He glances around for the entity. “Um, Cleo is around here somewhere.” A flash of light, and suddenly a teal and magenta fox kit is sitting on Inkwell’s lap. “That’s new,” he mused, petting Cleo. “What can I do for you?”

Inkwell jolts awake. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. What had… he turned around. A large man, it would seem, has wandered into his home. “Um. Who are you,” he asks the intruder. But his posture is less… comfortable. Everything about this person screams that it is not what it seems. A starhawk is perched on the person’s shoulder. “Did Night send you?”

Oh, my bad. I should have specified that the cabin was at the base of the mountain, nearby

The starhawk hops down onto Isabel’s shoulder from the tree branch above. It cocks its head, taking a good look at her up close, giving a friendly sounding screech. The air around Isabel thins, and she is suddenly yanked forwards. Glimpses of cold black expanses, fields of glittering stars, tendrils of radiation curling around supermassive black holes. Then she suddenly stands at the base of a mountain. A small log cabin hides behind a stand of pines, the whole scene illuminated by moonlight.

I mean. She is literally omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent but only in space. I just wanted to do a silly buildup for a villain who I’ll introduce to plot relevance after either rebus or malevolence resolve their current plot threads Sanguine didn’t know it was possible to feel trauma. He resolved never to go into space again. —— The letter read: Dear Isabel, Your struggles have not gone unseen. To be trapped in someone else’s body is a horrible curse. I know someone empathetic with your plight, who coincidentally may provide a solution. The starhawk could carry you to him, if you find this course of action suitable. Take courage, Night.

Night dropped a letter to Isabel’s feet.

You can wait for Wish, or Inkwell just did exactly that just now. Up to you

Eden grabbed the sword by the handle, lifting it to examine the black glass blade. Immediately she was thrust into a vision- herself, bleeding out, shadows dancing around her as she died. When she returned to reality, the world spun. I’m sorry, Eden, the Plotblade whispered into her mind. My name is Death Omen. You should not have picked me up. —— Night watched curiously as another Author attempted to release a third antagonist into the current plot. As the black hole Sanguine was falling into disappeared, she blinked, and the demon was dragged across the light years into the core of a star in the process of supernova. This immediately destroyed Sanguine’s body, dispersing its particles over solar systems, while yet another black hole appeared in the place where Sanguine’s mind resided. —— Inkwell awoke on the sand outside the vault, which, more than a glimpse revealed was almost completely blasted apart. The light burned his eyes. Something was around his neck. Omen was nowhere to be seen. “Omen’s trial for me involved me taking responsibility for your actions. Why should I enable you?” Inkwell sighed. “Fine.” He drew Futility, cutting a rift back to the cabin. He stared at the moon. This was going to be a bad idea. He shook himself, entered the cabin, and began to draw himself. Inkwell was small for the age of seventeen, not misgrown but under average height and slightly skinny. His skin was pale, his hair in soft black curls, he had the fingers of a pianist (which he wanted to be someday), a face more curved than stark, and blue-grey eyes. The drawing had many of the same attributes, but the eyes were green, the hair straighter, the stance slightly less relaxed. He had tried to create true life before, and had ended up with ink stained corpses and malformed black blobs, back in his home world. But never in his home world had he made lerasium, or visited the Dreamsmith. Shadowlight burned through ink more slowly than before, but it was still alarming how quickly the drawing devoured it. When he had finished, he held it up to the moonlight shining through the window. “What do you think?” 9/10mmHB#2 seized control of Inkwell’s body. First, he removed the weight from their neck- what turned out to be a necklace, with a long bone blade and interlocking twisting segments that formed a handle when 9/10 flicked his wrist. He laid the dagger on the desk, examined Shadowlight, and left it in Inkwell’s pocket. Then he flipped through the notebook, finding the page with Futility. “I’m going to keep this. It’s the only good thing I have ever made.” Inkwell was not comfortable with the thought, but it was true. 9/10mmHB#2 ripped out the page, folding it carefully and placing it on the dagger. Then he took out Shadowlight, and signed his name in cursive on the fresh drawing. Immediately Inkwell found himself back in control of his own body, the Backseat collapsing behind him as 9/10mmHB#2 vacated his mind. Dizzy, he turned to see the drawing come to life, the necklace dagger draped across a black t-shirt as 9/10 fastened it around his neck. He put Futility and his body’s drawings into a back pocket, and nodded to Inkwell curtly, giving a small attempt at a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Until we meet again.” Then he was gone, the Futility of Existence cutting a rift through reality, and Inkwell was alone. A sphere of swirling teal and magenta light appeared out of nowhere, and chirped sadly. “Yes. He’s gone,” Inkwell responded to Cleo. And he turned to watch the moon through the window.

"You couldn't possibly know what that name means to me." He picks it up, pulls the small notebook out of his back pocket, and experimentally sketches a pen cap with the white nib. It appears, and he fits it onto the black nib. It also covers the switch. "Wouldn't want any accidents with that. It is. I don't deserve it. And thank you." He approaches the door, then hesitates. "If I ever find an opportunity... I might want to stay here, sometime. Apprentice. When this is all over." He doesn't wait for a response, leaving as he feels a prickle of embarrassment. i agree

I’m just going to operate on the assumption that aluminum blocks powers while it’s being used on a victim, but does not permanently steal from the victim. (This being sort of consistent with how aluminum works, blocking powers but not for instance deleting a Nahel bond) Then, when it is invested and permanently implanted, it removes all powers from that person.

I had not named it, it was a title. A reference. As much as that would be cool, they are each obtaining something they didn’t have before, which wasn’t even the plan. Not that I’m complaining, but it would be a little much. “It’s a bit of a mouthful,” Inkwell admitted. “I’ve never been the one for long titles. That was 9/10’s idea.” He examined it closely. “I’m going to have to make it a cap for the other side,” he joked. “I’m assuming the bright end is the prismite aligned one, and the other chaotic or ordered dark? It’s beautiful.” I know where you live :3

Hmmm. I love color theory. Mine is a bit more basic blue: intelligence, naïveté, peace red: violence, determination black: armor, death, emotion purple: mystery, royalty green: growth, healing gold: actually I really like the take of innocence or youth. orange: change, destruction white: purity, lies grey: honesty brown: effort

Woah you guys got real Invested in this topic after I was gone :3

Hmmm. The reason I’m not interested in it is that when i like something, it becomes my entire world, existence, and basically is the worst obsession you have ever seen. So I’m trying to limit myself a bit and enjoy what i am already into, and ginormous IPs like Genshin, Zelda, and Elden Ring are a few things I’ve decided I don’t have to have in my life. Which game is this based on?