Welcome to Gaia! ::

Character's name: Haven Sinclair
Journal: [x]
Outfit: A figure skating dress would be cute (preferably in the purple color it shows instead of the red). Flesh colored tights and regular white skates to go with it would be fine. She’d probably wear her hair up in a crown braid (example two, with her bangs like the previous ref). Keep her expression either unimpressed or fiercely competitive.

Contest Entry:

Word Count: 778

It was okay that Haven didn’t have any friends.

Sometimes it bothered her when other kids teased her at school for being smart and knowing most of the answers and focusing more on her homework and test scores than recess, but most of the time Haven was satisfied with her books and papers and projects. It wasn’t like she didn’t have anybody to talk to. She sat with a few other girls in the cafeteria during lunch, and someone was always asking her to help them with something school-related, and she didn’t get picked last when they split into teams during gym class, so she wasn’t a total outcast. She got just enough attention to feel included, but not enough to grow especially close to anybody.

There were kids in her neighborhood, but some of them picked on her, too, and as soon as they were done with hopscotch or jump-rope they split off into their own groups and Haven went back to her books alone. There was Peter, of course. Haven didn’t think he counted for much because he was annoying and a boy, and though Haven was at that age when she thought some boys were cute instead of cootie-ridden, she swore that she would never, ever, not in a million years, think that Peter was cute, because he was an obnoxious brat, he’d beaten her on a math test once or twice (okay, more than that, but she wasn’t going to admit it), and his eyebrows looked like wooly caterpillars.

Haven maintained that her aversion was more because of the test scores than the eyebrows, because she was determined not to be one of those shallow girls who judged people because of the way they looked (but if he ever said anything mean to her, she might pull out the eyebrows as some sort of a secret weapon).

She was pretty sure considering her family her friends was cheating—and anyway, they were her family, and they were a good one, so they were sort of obligated to like her and encourage her and treat her well by the laws that defined a good family. Their only flaw was, perhaps, that they weren’t always present. Mommy was a high-powered business woman, after all; she attended important meetings and traveled so much Haven sometimes didn’t see her for days at a time. Daddy was around a lot more, but he had meetings, too, and students he was responsible for, and papers and tests to grade, and Haven didn’t always feel right bothering him with her juvenile problems. Grandpa Joe wasn’t any better because he was old and only ever talked about how smart and clever she was, and her big brother Jonah was a cranky butthead and didn’t have any friends either, so Haven wasn’t about to go to him for advice.

She told herself it was okay—all the time, over and over again, especially when she was feeling sad that she was by herself or jealous that all the other kids were out having fun—because she didn’t want friends anyway. They were too much trouble and took up too much time. What would they do except fuss and complain and run around doing stupid things that might get them in trouble? How would she ever get anything done if she had to play with them all the time and listen to them talk about pointless things?

Having friends would be a nuisance. Her grades would suffer, and she’d spend less time practicing, and then she’d never be as successful as her mother, and she’d never win the Olympic Gold Medal she wanted so badly.

Haven had more important things to do. She had drive and ambition and goals. Maybe she was only eleven-years-old, but she knew what she wanted and she wasn’t going to let anyone stand in her way, especially not friends, who couldn’t possibly understand and who'd just leave her if they didn’t get what they wanted from her. She’d rather focus on other things, like the studying to be done and the projects to be researched and the homework to be completed and the skating practices to attend, and if she ever felt rejected when someone teased her for being smart, or lonely when other kids were having sleep-overs and playing games on the playground without her, she pretended it didn’t bother her at all.

But sometimes it did, only she didn’t know what to do about it, so she buried herself beneath her books and flew out onto the ice where it was safe, and she did her best not to look at everyone smiling and laughing around her.

Character's name: Gwendolyn Caspian / Sailor Tsui
Journal: Journal
Outfit: Outfit, except orange in color not blue Ribbons in her hair with default hair style and bandaged ankle wraps
Contest Entry: Word Count: 1462

This charade had gone on long enough, and Gwendolyn Caspian was going to let the youma know it. At first, she admired its tenacity to keep following her, despite how she would leap fences and run down the sidewalk and even came close to scaling a building. But this youma, apparently a stalker in its former life, had kept its eyes on its prey, and with each attempt to escape its sights, Gwen knew that it would only be attracted to her energy and would continue the chase until she was too exhausted to run much further before it would make its move. Like a good predator, it relied on allowing the prey to wear itself down first.

Unfortunately for the youma, Gwen had a fair idea what a real predator would do, and despite being the ‘prey’, she was pacing herself as well. She was luring the youma away, far away from civilians eyes and to a place where she could show the youma who the REAL predator was, because once she transformed, Sailor Tsui would not put up with this game of cat and mouse for long.

As far as she was concerned, there could only be one cat, and that cat would be her, the Tiger!

Finally, after many twists and turns and another pace around the block, Gwen felt that enough was enough. She could tell that the youma was starting to lose its patience, and in truth, so was she, so when she passed by the alley, she took a quick turn into it and immediately jumped onto the trash can, and from there, grabbed onto the outside staircase on the wall as though it were nothing but the uneven cars and pulled herself up. She was hoping that she’d be quick enough to make it up there before the youma could turn the corner, and boy was she thankful that by the time she pulled herself up, the youma looked around the alleyway, momentarily confused. She had a brief window before its rely on its sense of smell to find her, and she wasted no time, grabbing her Henshin pen and shouting aloud.

“Tsui Star Power, Make Up!”

The change was immediate and Sailor Tsui always enjoyed the rush of power she felt in her body with every transformation. The youma, a fugly creature that looked like it came out of a Tim Burton’s flick, had looked up, just in time to receive a pair of boots to the face when she came crashing down on him. It was not strong enough to seriously wound it, but it was just enough to knock him off balance, giving Tsui the chance to leap away to a safer distance. She held her arms in the familiar cross fashion over her chest, anyone aware of her powers knowing that she was preparing for her strike, and she would have taken it at the first chance as the youma was stumbling back, had her ears not heard a familiar sound.

’Is that… kittens?’ Tsui looked behind her, seeing the old cardboard box in the corner and the mother cat that stood its ground as its kittens squeaked and mewled pathetically. Her heart melted at the sight of them, naturally, and she realized it was a mistake bringing the youma into this alley. She had put innocent, and extremely adorable lives in danger! ’That means I have to kill the youma quickly… THE YOUMA!’

Realizing her mistake, she looked back at the monster, just as it charged her. She moved into a more defensive position, refusing to give way as the mother cat and her kittens were behind her, catching the youma and being pushed back a few feet before steadying herself, holding the youma in a deadlock.

’What a fine mess you got yourself into, Tsui,’ Tsui berated herself, gritting her teeth and trying to push back the lanky creature and surprised by its strength. It managed to force her back a few steps, but she refused to give it any leeway. She was a Senshi, and a Senshi of Tigers at that, and her duty, for now, was to defend the lives of her smaller, less feral brethren. It pushed her back another step, and the kittens’ mewls got even louder, more frantic, and Tsui growled, managing to move her arms into the cross motion over her chest and gathering the energy that he so desired into her arms. She HAD to push him back… and there was only one way that she knew of. “Tiger… Fist… STRIKE!!!!”

The youma had anticipated a strike but it did not expect the Senshi to be able to overpower him and push him back entirely, and due to their closeness, Tsui went along with him, punching at the recently attacked chest and looking to weaken it for a second charge. In truth, she had never killed a youma before, at least not on her own, and this had bothered her, much more than she thought it truly would. She knew she was strong and capable, and she knew that she could get the experience she needed with time… so why could she not stand on par with the likes of Chibi Lenka, or Draconis, or Ate? Those three’s faces flashed in her mind, as well as a forth’s, the Dark Mirror Senshi, Remarque. All of them were strong, but they had to start somewhere too, didn’t they?! They all had their first youma or obstacle that they had to defeat, destroy? Why couldn’t she? Just because they had a focus and she didn’t?

The creature grabbed onto her shoulders and immediately, needle like appendages shot from its hands and arms, striking her arms and shoulder and bringing her attention back to the battle. She knew it was trying to suck her energy, but she wasn’t going to allow that. He was about to get all the energy he’d ever need, directly to the chest! Once again, she moved her arms into a cross pattern, and while the youma recognized the motion, it had already committed to latching itself onto her. And Tsui grinned at the sight of possible fear in those blood shot eyes of the youma. ’Damn right you better fear me…

“TIGER FIST STRIKE!”

She charged through, snapping off of the youma’s grip and completely plowing through the already weakened chest. It felt like she was charging through a wall, breaking through bricks and plaster, and when she hit the ground, she tumbled and rolled, hoping that she didn’t slam herself into the wall or into the open streets and trying to stand herself upright. She got halfway there before falling onto her knees, the needles remaining on her shoulders and arms for a while more before it disintegrated with the rest of the youma. Tsui at least got to see the fruits of her efforts, looking at the hole she created in the youma as it faded away, and all strength in her arms and legs were gone at this point. “I did it… I… defeated a youma all by myself…”

She wasn’t sure how to feel. It certainly wasn’t the first one she helped to defeat, but it was the first one to die by her hands. A sense of pride and accomplishment swelled within her, as though all of her time spent fighting along side other Senshi, or against, even, had boiled down to this. She could not fight on her own, stand on her own two legs and find her purpose as a Senshi, in her own right. Perhaps she could finally make a difference? ’With this… maybe… I can find my focus. I can finally have a reason to fight!’

That reason was still a mystery to her, but for now, she knew that she had the power within her to handle it. Besides, her focus at this given moment was to protect the mother cat and her kittens, and for now, that was enough. She flashed the cat a smile, aware that it would not understand the gesture, and she took no offense when it moved closer to her kittens, back still arched and moaning a warning for her to stay away. Tsui waved the cat off, before picking herself off of the ground and powering down, and despite the new aches and pains she felt, she sounded surprisingly chipper. “No need to thank me, miss! All within a day’s work for the Senshi of Tigers!”

So, with that, she began the long trek back home, but not even the aches, pains, and new bruises could deter her mood now. No, not even the dark clouds in the sky that threatened to unleash its rainy fury could wipe that smile off of her face…

Character's name: Alexandre Evans (First and last name two different links to art)
Journal: XX
Outfit: I'd say keep his hair tied up with some loose, maybe even a bit windblown or messy. For an expression something just...snobbish or slightly on the haughty side.
For an outfit I wanna go with this: http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n205/DreamsRemorse/In the Name of the Moon/AlexandreSpring.png
or like these two:
http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n205/DreamsRemorse/In the Name of the Moon/IdeasforAlexcivilian.jpg
http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n205/DreamsRemorse/In the Name of the Moon/IdeasforAlexcivilian1.jpg
Contest Entry: Bolting up a sharp inhale of air filled his lungs, the sheets of his bed gripped between shaking hands. Oh god, why wouldn’t it stop? He didn’t know how much more he could take, and it had only been a week. A single week without Lily, she had gone off to England to do a semester at one of their universities. He figured she needed to escape the death of her sister, something which continued to haunt him. Even when Lily had been here he’d comforted her, when he too needed comfort. He couldn’t explain to her that he’d seen the death of Rose, something she hadn’t seen. So he’d suffered mostly in silence, though not completely like he did now. He had been able to let go, at least somewhat, when Lily would come to him for comfort. Now though he was alone in the house, save for Cadha who kept him company.

Loosening his hold on his sheets he slid his legs off the side of his bed and got up. Slipping into a fresh pair of socks, waiting on the floor at the side of his bed, he padded out of his room in some unseen effort to put distance between himself and his nightmares. Arms were wrapped about himself as he headed downstairs and to the kitchen. Something warm to drink could be nice but he didn’t need the caffeine, it would keep him up. Reaching the kitchen he opened the fridge and grabbed himself a bottle of flavored water, wild cherry, and cracking the seal he took a slow sip, shivering from the shock of the cold drink and the memories of tonight’s nightmare.

“I should have done something….” But what? What could he have done? He couldn’t very well get in to a fight with another officer, especially when he didn’t know what had sparked the fight between Negaverse officer and civilian. And had he just really thought Rose might have in some way earned her own death? No, no, he couldn’t have. Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts Alexandre went to sink onto the living room couch, taking up the corner spot, leaning forward he grabbed the remote though he didn’t really think or feel what he was doing. The bottle of flavored water was set onto an always waiting coaster and the tv was turned on.

He knew there wasn’t anything on, or at least nothing really interesting, but he needed the sound to fill up the void of silence and keep his mind busy. He couldn’t let his mind wander and himself think – remember. He just…he just needed to distance himself from what had happened, what he’d seen. He couldn’t handle it and he couldn’t handle being so very alone right now, he felt…hallow but who would understand him if he tried to explain that? Aside from Lily, and her family and his, he didn’t think anyone would and he didn’t want to go to them. He had been able to keep his secret till now and he didn’t know if he broke down, as he knew he would with his family and her’s, if he’d be able to keep his secret.

Even with the tv on, he’d found some decent show on the history channel, he still couldn’t quite his thoughts and so gave voice to them. They said people who talked to themselves were insane, or that it was a sign of insanity, what about those who held both sides of a conversation with themselves out loud?

“I should have done something…but what? It would have looked bad, for me especially if I’d have done something. But it was Rose, she’s a sister…like Lily. Would I have done the same thing if it was Lily and not Rose?” Shaking his head he found himself running his fingers through his loose blond hair, tugging gently on the silken strands of sleep mused hair.

“I don’t think so, I can’t believe I just…” Shaking his head he couldn’t believe that one simple, short, sentence or rather what it contained. He really was unsure. Was he really that…had the chaos tainted him so much that he didn’t know if he’d jump in to save Lily against a fellow agent of chaos? Oh God. Shaking even harder as he seemed to be in shock over his thoughts he finally stood up in a sudden flurry of movement the remote thrown to the couch as h paced the length of the living room.

“No, I wouldn’t have, not with Lily. But why then with Rose? I didn’t think…but when I saw what had happened, what was happening…that senshi stepped in before I could.” And that hurt, that senshi…an outsider had stepped in where he should have. “And now there dead too…” The senshi had beaten the hell out of the agent, but she hadn’t killed him out right that had come later in the hospital. Biting his lip he shook his head, blond hair scattering across his face. “None of this should have happened…” And yet it had and he wanted to know why he wanted to know what had transpired, before he’d shown up, between that agent and Rose but there was no way to find out. He didn’t even know the agents name and they hadn’t regained consciousness while at the hospital and Rose…well yeah.


Word Count: 894
This solo was gonna be used in the future, for events not yet happened, but that's no longer the case due to rule changes. ::nods::

Character's name: Kathryn McAdams
Journal: Here
Outfit: Polyvore - Everything but the cap would be awesome. Also the braid could just be hanging down if it's too difficult as it is.

Contest Entry: Word Count = 468 words

Kathryn was feeling miserable. She'd finally managed to shake off the illness that had besieged her since the night of the meteor shower. The reason behind Kat's present state of mind was that she had inadvertently spread her illness to Tallulah. That was something that no roommate ever wanted to do. The result was that Tallulah had gone to her parents to lie low for a while. Kathryn had been mulling over possible ideas on how to apologize to Tallulah but she kept coming up blank. Tallulah had made her soup when she was still suffering. Kat smiled softly before giving up on that angle. She was still in the process of gathering her courage to cook dinner one night. It would have to remain a surprise for the time being.

Her gaze caught on a store flyer and Kat got the spark of an idea. Easter was almost over and most stores would begin to slash prices on all the chocolates left over. Perhaps she could put together a nice basket for Tallulah as a way of saying thank you and apologizing all at the same time. The plan was finalized. Kathryn got everything together for an afternoon downtown before scribbling a note in case Tallulah were to return. Kat knew that she was probably being overly cautious, but to alleviate any concern that Tal might have, maybe it was a wise decision.
---
It took a little longer than she had planned but Kathryn had succeeded in Operation: Easter Basket. She'd gone to a few of the grocery stores and bought a large collection of chocolate eggs and bunnies for two people. She'd also found a simple enough wicker Easter basket and plastic grass. Kathryn smiled as she sat everything down on her bed and began to divide her spoils accordingly. She placed the grass down and began filling Tallulah's basket with a variety of chocolate. She kept items for herself but since this was meant for her roommate the majority went to Tallulah. Kathryn finished the basket by adding a simple but heartfelt note that she had constructed beforehand. Slipping her door open Kat let her gaze skim the apartment's interior before she quickly entered Tallulah's room and left the basket sitting on her bed. It might not have been the wisest location placement but Kat didn't see any alternatives. Quietly she slipped back into her own room and popped one of her own chocolates into her mouth. This had been a good plan. Kat could only hope that Tallulah actually liked chocolate. Her method of thanking Tallulah complete Kathryn gave a quiet sigh before glancing at her work schedule for the following week. She was on the mend which meant she had to get back to showing Tony she was adamant about her job.

Character's name: Arilee Selvig - Powered Art
Journal: X
Outfit: Outfit style - basically that outfit. Shirt design is CC as are the colors for the shirt, belt, shoes and jewelry. Facial jewelry remains the same, though the plugs in her ear lobes should be a nice, bright color. Apricot lip gloss is a must and her hairstyle is the same as in her powered art.
Contest Entry: 563 words


A small compact mirror sat on the top of Arilee’s bedside table, looking odd amongst the tiny trays of jewelry and jars of board wax. No compact had ever sat there before. And somehow, Arilee didn’t see this as opening a way for other compacts to sneak into her life. She rarely needed or used such things. And it wasn’t as if she was one of those girls who felt the need to touch up makeup every half an hour. So why was she granting this one a place so near to herself? It was stupid. And far too girly.

And her duty, a tiny, chiding voice inside her heart reminded her. Her responsibility. And, whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, that thought brought a little rushing swell of pride with it. She’d been found and awakened and given a purpose. And in the process, had gotten more than her fair share of scrapes and bruises. Shivering slightly, the girl threw herself onto her bed and lay back, arms crossed under her head as she studied the ceiling of her dorm room. Unbelieveable, she mused. I’ve survived a lot and done a lot. And now I have sparkly, magic powers and a Queen. No, this definitely had never crossed her mind when she would lay awake and daydream about what her future might hold. And the monster who’d attacked her before she’d been saved most assuredly had never been on her bucket list of things to see or, y’know, fight.

As she lay there, a small smile couldn’t help forming as she thought of the girl who’d introduced herself as Ares. She’d been imposing, certainly, but she was also rather incredibly hot. And Arilee’d always had an admiring eye for beauty wherever she saw it. But all hotness aside, Ares had saved her, given her something she’d never known that she needed or wanted. She’d given Arilee a purpose. Something beyond surfing and goofing off and annoying her dad and step-mom. Though... the tiny, irreverent part of her mind that couldn’t be kept down wondered if Ares would be any good at surfing.

“I’m grateful for the purpose,” she turned her head slightly to address the small mirror she’d been given. “I am. But man, did that purpose have to come with ******** sparkly s**t straight out of some weird japanese cartoon? I feel like I should be screaming about power levels being over 9000.”

Granted, she looked pretty smoking in her magic clothes and she thought, all things considered, that being a Senshi of Seagulls wasn’t too bad. She liked gulls, always had. And when she’d gone jetting off to find herself a proper beach to go surfing at, she’d always admired the gulls’ graceful flights. To be connected to something like that wasn’t so bad. Not really.

With a sigh, Arilee turned onto her side so she could watch the mirror compact. Then, on a whim, she addressed it again.

“This is all pretty wild, y’know? I mean, I’ve never been very good at sticking to rules or following orders, just ask my dad or the teachers! But... I think for you, I’ll do my rest to toe the line. I might not be very good at it, but I’ll try.”
A impish grin flickered across Arilee’s face as she made her promise.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Character's name: Millicent Lafeu
Journal: Journal
Outfit: Polyvore I would love it if you could match the colors in the skirt to the ones on the scarf, and for the shirt...just a purple shirt with some sort of adorable piggy image. XD <3333 If you want to put her hair up in two braids that would be fun too, like...pigtail braids. If not, the style is totally up to you. I like your hair ideas 8D
Contest Entry: (641 Words)

Being upside down was a wonderful thing. And…and reading while upside down was something that was even better. Millicent was hanging over the edge of her bed, the light in her bedroom emitting a soft glow. She was finally on the last book in this Star Wars Series…it was called “Invincible”, and she knew…she knew that this had to be the one where Jacen went good again! He had become…he had become a Sith Lord…and that was just absolutely the most terrible thing that could have ever happened to her biggest hero.

But that was the thing about Jacen, and the real reason that Millie continued to read through the series, even after she had almost sworn the books off. Jacen was a hero. He was a good guy, deep down…and good guys always pulled through! How else could good beat evil! It was a simple thing, anyway.

The child was nearing the end of the book, eyes flitting across the page every few seconds, biting her lip in utter excitement! So much was happening, it was very close to being too much to take in! Finally…finally!

Millicent let out a startled scream, staring at the words on the page. Jaina…Jaina just killed him. Jacen Solo…her hero…
He was dead.

Tears filled the child’s chocolate brown eyes and she trembled, before very carefully doggie earing the page, then promptly throwing the book across the room as hard as she could, causing her pigs to emit squeals of surprise, the both of them darting out of the room. “Yeah. Yeah you two run. Jaina…don’t you dare kill your brother! It’s not right, you hear me!” Millie shouted after, the tears falling freely down her face.

What kind of a stupid…how could Jaina had done that? Why would she do that? Jacen…Jacen wasn’t a bad guy! He did some bad things…but he shouldn’t…Millie scrubbed at her eyes, flinging herself onto her bed, hugging her pillow tightly for a very, very long time, just staring blankly at her headboard.

What…why could this have happened? Good always won against evil…but Jedi’s weren’t supposed to just kill the evil…even if the evil did do very, very bad things. Luke hadn’t just killed his dad after all, and Darth Vader did go good in the end…so why didn’t they just do that with Jacen? Couldn’t they have just…captured him and tried to talk him back into being a good guy? That would have worked. It would have worked perfectly…and nobody else understood that.

Star Wars had just betrayed her. Betrayed her just like the first book in that awful series had said. ‘Betrayal’ What a perfect title… Millie sat up, lip trembling. There was only one thing to do that made any sense now. “I just…have to not…” She nodded to herself, then ran through the house, grabbing a large plastic box from the spare room, then dragged it back to her room.

Glancing around, she tried to find every single piece of Star Wars paraphernalia that she had, then when she had found everything, or at least what she thought was everything…she began to put it all in the box. Posters, toys, clothes, her books. Everything. Her Jedi robes went on top of everything else, though she placed her blue lightsaber right on top of that. If Jedi’s just killed every bad guy who got in their way…then she had to find something else to be for awhile. That wasn’t fair. Jacen hadn’t been a bad guy forever…and he still could have been helped.

Millicent covered the box, then shoved the thing into the closet of the spare room. She went back to her room and looked around, lip trembling. It was so empty now…she supposed she’d have to find something else to love from now on…Star Wars was just…bad now…

…What would her padawans say…

Character's name: Magiore Carpenter
Journal: x
Outfit: Hair should be worn down, kinda messy, a bit longer than his official refs. He should also look a bit older. Usually dresses in blacks and greys - just simple refs: x x x x! You can have fun with the design, those are the basics of his style. He also always wears the necklace that's in both official refs!
Contest Entry: (750)

He stood at the edge of the doorway and did not want to take a step in.

The loft was a simple one, not too big, and not too small, and filled with very neat, very precise furniture that was all glass and silver and smooth. There was a stack of books on the end table beside the grey leather couch, all by the same author - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - along with a pair of reading glasses folded up tidily beside them. The kitchen was the same as it ever was - pristine and clean, all of the appliances (there weren't that many to start with) clean and shining, and set in their proper places. The cabinets were all closed, the drawers were all shut, and everything was as it should have been.

It felt like a hospital, Magiore decided. Or a museum.

With a sigh, he stepped into his apartment and closed the door behind him with a small snap. Inside it was quiet - almost a deafening sort of silence that rose and through the air and muffled everything in its path in a suffocating sort of way. He stood there, leaning against the closed door, and twiddled the keys in his hand, the quiet clinking noise of metal against metal somehow soothing. Magiore had not had much time lately to spend down in the workshop, not since he'd become...

...well, what he was. Which unfortunately was most definitely not Sherlock Holmes, as much as he wished it was. Destiny City was a far cry from London, England, and Lieutenant Aurostbite was nothing near as intellectual or intelligent as the Great Detective himself.

Magiore sighed. He stepped over to the table beside the couch, dropping his keys onto it - they made another clink - and picking up the top book on the stack.

A Study in Scarlet. Magiore idly flipped through the well-worn pages, stopping every now and then to read a specific line that he had highlighted, or a phrase that he had circled. Sometimes there were entire paragraphs covered in that awful, florescent, neon-yellow and he had to strain his eyes to be able to read the slightly smeared black text beneath it. But the words were as familiar to him as his own voice, and he indulged in them, let himself be lost within the pages of the story.

Being Lieutenant Aurostibite was not a story. He could not just highlight the parts he wanted to remember and skim over the bits that were more unappealing or more difficult to read. Sometimes he wished he were able to just close that chapter for a while, set it aside, and then come back to it when he was ready, more prepared.

Unfortunately he couldn't do that. There was no closing this chapter. It was open, permanently and irrevocably, as though the ink from the pages of the Negaverse had crept off and slipped up his fingers, sinking into his veins until he was entirely covered in black and the words were ringing in his head, resounding throughout his thoughts.

He did not wish to escape them, but sometimes he wished he could pause just a little longer to make himself stronger. Diving into the Negaverse head first had been his idea - with help and encouragement from the General-King, of course - but now he wondered if he had been too rash, too hasty in his decision. He did not wish to leave, and he did not regret his choice in the long run, but he wondered if he should have taken more time to become stronger.

He was like John Watson before meeting Sherlock Holmes - someone caught in their own nightmares without a way out, their path before them uncertain and unclear.

Why am I Watson? Can't I be Holmes? He always knew what it is that was to be done. I don't.

Magiore's eyes skimmed the pages, traced the curves of the letters printed there.

This is the path that I have chosen.

Is it the path that I want?

The answer to that, at least, was clear. Magiore's thumb brushed against the familiar feeling paper, rough and uneven against his skin. The book was one of his favorites, and Sherlock Holmes had always been his inspiration, the one steady thing in his life. It reminded him of things he could have been, things he wanted to be, things he loved.

Things he hoped he could be.

This is what I want.

He closed the book.