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Character Profiles / Saya
« on: March 23, 2020, 22:46:58 PM »
I used to have fantastic dreams of wonderful and awe inspiring worlds. We would slay frightening demons with staves and swords, but the older we grew the more our imagination dulled. Those amazing instruments we wielded with God-given authority proved to be discarded sticks, the beasts and monsters stray dogs and temperamental roosters who gave chase.
The wards of night lights and safety beneath blankets in bed were dismissed as child's play and lack of maturity, disappeared like a summer warmth upon the creep of autumn's chill.
Recent events beg to tell otherwise, my eyes are more wide open than ever before and my reality feels tender and raw, like a wound that has yet to heal. I don't feel I'm ready to discuss what brought me to such a conclusion, but I see it... no, I see her everywhere I go. She follows me closely like my shade but corrects me like a knowing teacher. At first I believed her to be a demon, some dastardly creature seeking to consume me — but she's something more. Perhaps she's an angel, but what angel hides in shadows and is shrouded in cold, wispy black?
She brings mystery and puzzle, each a riddle that plagues me day and night and I know I won't find peace unless I find resolution first.
She says we are one, and we are the same. If that holds truth, then I suppose a more fitting question is what am I?
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Character Profiles / Warren
« on: March 21, 2020, 19:51:16 PM »Name's Warren on account of my ma, she thought it had a nice ring to it, and Callahan 'cause of my dad-- no explanation necessary.
Born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska. I spent most of my life alone with my dad, mom got real tired of us early and just up and left. Dad wasn't a mean type, but he was closed, never mentioned her much and I could tell it still ached and weighed heavy on his heart, even if he never showed it.
He was a bit of a survival nut, apparently, his dad was hard on him, same as his father was and so on, so maybe it's something of a paternal tradition. A whole lot of cold nights braving the wilderness, but I wager I turned out for the better as consequence.
The years I spent in school was a blur, for a place I'd been raised in I couldn't help but feel out of place. Maybe that's why I packed up, can't say dad was too pleased -- but maybe, just maybe I saw relief in his eyes when I said I wanted to make a name for myself. Like he had fatherly pride in my ambition, but the motherly shoes he filled said to be concerned and worried.
I didn't have much to my name, spent most of my money on the flight over.
All I could think about the entire time was how damn tired I was of the cold.
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