#normal people have houses and spouses and kids right now. and i still read comic books and cut myself

[lzrdprsn]

Letting my birthday pass in obscurity. Just another Wednesday.

[ilseofskadi]

please validate me this is the only thing i can write and my grades are suffering

Maka can see ghosts; Kid and his dad were murdered and people suspect his brother who disappeared after; Maka finds Kid’s rings and thus gets Kid’s attention; Kid can’t remember anything of his murder but believes it can’t be his brother; eventually Maka begrudgingly decides to investigate the murder.

For as long as she could remember, she could see ghosts. When she was young she was teased by her classmates, the teachers and her parents brushing it off as an overactive imagination and youth. She saw no problem with it, the ghosts were more friendly than anyone else she knew. During recess she would sit at the edge of the playground and talk to the ghosts, and she didn’t have to worry about being bothered as no one would go near her.

Eventually, as she grew up, she learned to keep quiet about the ghosts. Her Mama started telling her it was time to grow up, her Mama started telling her she had to make friends instead of reading, her Mama started telling her things were changing and she couldn’t be around all the time. She didn’t know why that mattered, or why she should have to change; but as she went into middle school she found it better to pretend the ghosts weren’t there in order to keep herself away from the eye of her pupils.

Middle school was hell. Three years of torture. She tried to make friends in sixth grade, but rumors of her being the “creepy ghost girl” got around to the students from other elementary schools and they kept their distance. Bullies found it easy to pick on her quiet and lonely state. It was much easier to sit and let it happen.

This wasn’t to say she had never made friends.

When the grueling years of middle school had passed and she entered the next stage of education, she once again found herself with the opportunity to make friends. Again, old rumors still floated around, but not as frequent as before. She was able to make acquaintances with a few people, but not real friendships. Part of her had resigned to the fact she would never have friends, and she was prepared to accept that. Of course life has a funny way of showing her otherwise.

.

“You’re the ghost girl!” A sudden voice all but shouted, far too close for comfort, and she was surprised she hadn’t noticed anyone before.

Turning slightly, she moved her eyes from the empty lunch table to the three people who had settled in to her side. Two boys and one girl. One of the boys had a foot on the table’s seat and leaned in close, the girl hovering behind him with a nervous expression, the second boy seemed to ignore his friends in favor of sitting down and taking out his lunch. She didn’t particularly want to respond to the rude comment, but seeing as the three weren’t leaving, she had no choice.

“Yeah,” she spoke briskly, wanting to go back to her food, “that’s me.”

The boy’s face lit up and his grin widened almost comically as he leaned back. He dropped himself on the seat —the girl following suit— and pointed a finger at her.

“I knew I recognized ya! Ya know, I used to be in your kindergarten class!”

“Hm,” she could tell where this was going.

“I was always kinda pissed off about you!”

She suppressed a glare, favoring to put away her food.

“Yeah, everyone always talked about you and how weird you were! It was really annoying! Especially when they should have been talking about me!”

This got a raised eyebrow and a pause in her motions as she waited for him to go on.

“I ended up switching schools for elementary so I never saw you again. But now here you are!”

“Yep,” she sighed coldly, “here I am.”

“Hey, hey!” The boy raised his hands mock-defensively. “I’m not here to pick on ya! I’m here to be friends!”

“Friends? Why?”

“Why not? I figure that you’re not the talk of the school anymore, so I don’t have to hate you!”

“That’s…ridiculous.”

The boy just laughed, the girl behind him sighed and the other boy chuckled along.

“Name’s Black Star!” He pointed his thumb in his chest proudly before briefly moving to point behind him. “And that’s Tsubaki and Soul!” Tsubaki gave a polite “hello” and Soul mumbled around his food. “And you’re Maka, right?”

She hesitated. Was she ready for full-blown friendship? Then again, it didn’t look like she had much of a choice.

“Yeah, I am.”

“A’wight!” Black Star cheered, pumping a fist in the air with far too much enthusiasm. “Hey, what classes do you have by the way? We should all compare our schedules!”

.

Black Star, Tsubaki, and Soul turned out to be good friends, she found. Black Star and Soul —those probably weren’t their real names but even the teachers called them that— were loud and outgoing, always pushing her to hang out and do stuff; Tsubaki was kind and passive, almost like a kindred spirit, but one-on-one “girl time” had shown that she wasn’t always so quiet and polite.

Her parents were glad she had finally made real friends. Her Mama told her she was proud and her Papa let out some nonsense about her not having male friends. She just rolled her eyes, still staying in her room whenever she was home. While her parents smiled and acted fine, she knew they had been trying too hard in the past few years. She knew of her father’s bad habits and her mother’s growing distaste for her spouse, but she kept quiet about it as they thought they were being secret enough for her not to know.

So it wasn’t a surprise when her parents announced they were getting a divorce. In fact she saw it as a long time coming, breathing in relief that they weren’t pretending around her anymore. The divorce moved fast, and she was too involved in her academics to notice when it finally ended and her mother had disappeared across the country —or world— leaving her alone with her father.

Outwardly, she just shrugged and accepted it; but inwardly she was in all words pissed. How could her Mama just leave like that? How could she not take her with? Did she think it was better for her? Better to leave her only child behind with her cheating ex-husband? She thought it despicable. Both of her parents were awful. Tsubaki was a ray of shining light in these times. The girl provided a shoulder to scream at, someone to listen to her venting and rants, and she couldn’t be more thankful for the girl’s smooth ability to lie in order to help her.

With all the events whirling around in her life, she had almost forgotten about the ghosts.

.

Deaths were, as a part of life, not uncommon in any town or city. Murders, maybe a little less common, and violent murders were something thought only to be seen in a larger and heavily populated city. Sure, the name of her home city may include the word “death”, but it wasn’t a grim place by far. Maybe, she thought, it was bound to happen eventually, though.

At the edge of town sat a mansion, grand yet somehow also humble, that housed a fairly rich family of three: a father and his two sons. The father’s job was something business like, something that brought in good money; most people preferred not to know what the man’s job was, wanting instead to build up rumors and outrageous ideas on their own. Both of the man’s sons were homeschooled, and none of them were frequently seen around —though it was a possibility that they were out often and it was just that no one knew what they actually looked like.

They family was more of an idea to the people, something to brag about rather than actually see or touch, and it seemed that most people tended to forget they were even there. At least until the event on a Friday 13th happened. Funny, how the date was one that held such superstition was the one when it happened.

Neighbors in the area around the mansion had reported noises loud enough they could be heard from their houses, and later one report of figures running out the back. Police cars and ambulances didn’t arrive soon enough and the city found themselves without one rich family.

The father and youngest son had been murdered, the oldest son missing, and the police department with their first homicide case in who knows how long. Word spread fast and it became the only thing anyone would talk about. Popular idea was that the eldest brother had some mental disorder and finally snapped, murdering his family and running away. The family had a funeral held, hosted by the city, and tension died down. With the bodies buried, people would be able to forget.

.

Hook Cemetery was a fairly poor kept plot of land built next to a thick woods. No one went there unless they had to. It wasn’t as if it was a scary place, it was just that no one wanted to think of the dead unless needed. Despite its poor upkeep and somewhat dreary atmosphere, Maka loved taking walks through the winding paths of the graveyard.

It was a calming place to be, she believed, because no one frequented the place and she could be left alone to her own devices. Normally her devices were just reading or counting the graves. When she was younger she would visit as often as she could to talk with the ghosts, but as she was older she avoided the idea of such a thing.

With school approaching, and her friends being rather annoying, Maka eventually found herself wandering to her old hang-out place. Shrugging, she didn’t bother turning around to go home, instead walking down the old path of the graveyard and glancing at the old tombstones.

A few minutes in to her walk she was startled by a spectral movement in the corner of her eyes. Her heart beat faster before she remembered. She could see ghosts. It had been years since she saw a ghost, but the fact that she could always hung in the back of her mind.

Stealing herself, she ignored the few ghosts that moved silently and kept on her way. When she came to the other side of the land she turned around, her breath tense as she watched some of the ghosts stare at her. Shaking her head, she went on, walking faster and faster away to wherever her feet would take her next. Eventually she noticed she was near the mansion of the dead rich family, a fact she wouldn’t have taken in had she not tripped over something at her feet.

Grumbling, she turned her attention from the abandoned building to the place where her shoes tapped the offending object of her fall. Brushing her hands around the grass she found two silver rings fashioned with a cartoonish skeleton head. She rolled the objects around, slipping the tips of her fingers in their holes briefly in thought. Shaking her head again, she stood up and found herself pocketing the rings. She pulled out her cell phone to look at the time, a slight frown appearing as she decided she’d have to start making her way home.

Continuing to ignore the few ghosts, she went back to her path through the graveyard. In her pockets she fingered at the rings curiously, wondering where they had come from. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, after passing a rather large tombstone, that she noticed something following her. Her breath held and chest tightened, she picked up her pace, stepping off the path in order to cut through faster. Still, she felt herself being followed. Nearing the edge of the cemetery she sped up a little more, only to once again trip over something at her feet.

Cursing her luck, she picked herself up, rubbing dirt from her face in annoyance. What were the chances she’d trip twice in the same hour? What rotten luck she had sometimes.

“Are you alright?” a polite voice asked from behind, causing her to jump to her feet.

Turning around her eyes widened at the figure before her. It was a ghost, that she knew by the little opacity, and she felt regret clawing at her chest for being as stupid as she had been. The ghost seemed to be a boy if her guess was reliable. He had black hair and wore a black suit with no breast pocket; his hands were at his side, almost hesitantly, and he stood straight up yet still leaning forward slightly.

She swallowed and turned away from the boy, the sound of grass ripping out from beneath her feet accenting her departure. If she ignored him he would go away. That’s how it always went. But of course her luck of avoiding ghosts had seem to run out as the boy was soon at her side and walking with her. Still, she tried to ignore him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow her out of the cemetery, and that in only a few more steps he would be gone.

Or at least he should have been gone.

Now a good few feet out of the cemetery land, she stopped abruptly in her stride and turned to the boy. He seemed to flinch back at whatever emotion her eyes were showing, but kept himself composed, seeming to wait for her to speak.

“What do you want?” She demanded, fists balling up at her side as if she could fight him off. The boy remained silent, his head tilting to the side slightly in presumed thought. Still not speaking, the boy reached out a hand slowly towards her, causing her to jerk back.

“Stop,” she hissed, “and tell me, what do you want?” The boy looked her in the eyes, a shiver running up her spine as she finally noted the slight glow of what appeared to be gold. Both held their ground for a moment before the boy finally spoke up.

“I’m following you.”

“Yeah, I can see that! Why?”

“…” he was silent again, now looking her up and down as if questioning himself. “I’m not quite sure. I believe…I believe you have something of mine, though. I do not know why.”

“Something of…” she repeated softly, hands moving to her pockets to pull out the rings. “These?”

The boy’s face lit up and he moved as it to grab them, only for his hands to pass through her own. Face falling slightly for a moment, he stepped back before nodding.

“I suppose…you can keep them.” His voice was quiet, as if he was saddened by something.

“Well I don’t want them.”

“Then why did you pick them up?”

She paused. Why did she pick them up? She had no reason to and she very well could have just left them in the grass. Glancing down at the rings in her hands, she turned them around slowly before looking back up at the boy.

“How come you were able to leave the cemetery?”

He was quiet again, this time turning around to see if her words were true. When he looked back at her he seemed confused himself, but still kept quiet in thought.

“Maybe…maybe it has to do with the rings?” He whispered, more to himself than to her.

Part of her wanted to throw the rings as far as she could at that point, to be able to leave him behind and continue to live her life as before; but there was still part of her that seemed to want to know more. It was as if some unconscious part of her wanted to return to the ghosts, to return to familiarity despite how it made her look.

“So are you going to be following me around or something?”

“…I suppose…”

She sighed, pocketing the rings again and placing her hands on her hips. She started off into the sky, rolling around the thought of having ghosts around again. Glancing briefly at the boy she couldn’t help but laugh inwardly at how awkward he seemed. Rolling her shoulders she sighed lightly before taking a breath.

“My name’s Maka,” she said curtly, turning around just after. “If you’re going to follow me around you deserve to know that at least.”

.

By the time she arrived home, silently sneaking in through the back door, it was already late enough for her Papa to have returned home and pass out on the living room couch. She opted to ignore him, walking up the stairs with quiet steps. Reaching her room she opened her door and closed it, making sure to remain quiet, and jumped slightly as the ghost boy phased through the wood. They stared at each other for a moment but it was broken by her turning around and sliding off her shoes. It wasn’t until she was only wearing her shirt and pants —her jacket and socks crumpled over her shoes— that she hesitated with her fingers remained at the bottom of her shirt.

“Um,” she began, nervous on how to choose her words, “are you going to stay there?”

“What do you mean?” While his voice was even in tone she there was still a slight incline at his question. She held back a heavy sigh and threw up her arms, pausing only to make sure her voice didn’t come out too loud.

“I’m about to get undressed!”

“And?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“What, are you a pervert or something?” And that got a reaction from him.

“No! Of course not!” She didn’t say anything in return, only motioning with her hands for him to try and piece together the situation. When it seemed he wasn’t going to understand she opted to grab her pajamas and move into her bathroom to change instead. Thankfully the ghost decided to to follow her, giving her a moment of peace.

Finally letting out a sigh, she slipped her shirt over her head to replace it with her lighter one. As she removed her pants she paused to take out the rings from her pocket. Noticing that there was a fair amount dirt covering them she decided to run the faucet and rinse them. As the dirt washed away she was able to get a better examination of the bands.

At first they seemed almost like the plastic rings you would get from a machine outside of a grocery store, but as the caked layers of dirt was scrubbed away she noticed they were much nicer. They were heavier than plastic, and they probably shined more when they were still in use. The skull that sat on the front was bigger than she assumed, or than what she deemed practical. They seemed to be well made, as no matter how much she pressed on the skulls to clean them they refused to wiggle even slightly. She wondered how much they cost, where the ghost had gotten them, why he chose to have a skull, and why he wanted two.

When most of the dirt had been cleaned from the small nooks she dried them off nicely with a hand towel. She was almost proud of how she had done. Of course that moment shattered as she noticed the ghost next to her, leaning towards the rings. To make matters more awkward, she remembered that she had still yet to put on her pajama bottoms.

The shriek she let out was, upon later realization, not the best of moves, but it succeeded in making the ghost flinch back.

“Wh-what?” The ghost was flustered, not rightly so in her opinion. That privilege belonged to her in this situation.

“Get out!” She was careful to lower her voice, hissing instead of screaming. How the ghost remained to oblivious was honestly a wonder far beyond her grasp. His sight moved from her face to his rings and back several times. At least they didn’t look at anything else, she supposed. Still, she had to get him out.

Huffing, and wishing she could risk yelling, she threw the bathroom door open and lobbed the rings towards her bed. The ghost seemed shocked by her actions and went to where his rings had fallen, giving her the space to shut the door and the privacy to put on her bottoms.

[1nkweaver]

DnD Question Masterpost: Opal

It’s gunna get long fam

If your character wasn’t an adventurer, what livelihood would they lead?

Opal would continue to work as a grave digger and traveling preacher, trying to spread the faith of Zemtris, just with less looting and monster slaying. He’s honestly very happy with his current job, though he offered in waterdeep to also work as a coroner. 

Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life?

Opal doesn’t really trust anyone with his life mostly because he likes to walk the line of death, and if its his time to go he would want to go at that point. In regards to what kind of person he trusts to protect him though, he is trustworthy of anyone that believes in his faith.

What are your character’s core moral beliefs?

Dream like you’ll live forever, live like you’ll die today. Take risks, be aware, be kind, be helpful.

What relationship does your character have with their parents and siblings?

Opal was adopted as a baby into a tribe of Elves, with his parents and several siblings. He loved them all very much, and though he has now been banished from his tribe for reasons, he harbors no ill will towards them and also still loves them very much.

Does your character have any biases for or against certain races?

Opal has never canonically seen other Firbolg, and so is always very excited and happy when he encounters one, so he is biased for them. Otherwise he treats everyone equally, but he sometimes confuses smaller races for children, who he also loves, and sometimes treats them better because of it.

What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority?

Because he is a strange religious man who just walked out of the woods one day, Opal has practically no understanding of nobility or proper authority on a fundamental level. He respects the rules of the place he is in but doesn’t really “get” it.

Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc.

Opal is a blueish Firbolg with most of his fur burned off and patchy, covered in his namesake- opalescent scars all over his body. He changes his eye color often but likes pink and yellow eyes, and has about shoulder length long dreadlocks that are very thick, sometimes with rings in them. He has no nose, and covers it with a band (or makeup, as he’s learning what that is) and always has his signature wide brimmed hat. He has collected various things from stuff that has died around him and hung it from his hat in little jars and such. He recently upgraded from his fully black drabby gravediggers coat to a more vibrant bluish purple jacket, often electing to not wear a shirt under it. He does however have a golden breastplate depicting him being hugged by the arms of Zemtris. He also got a few piercings, jewelry, and tattoos, including a necklace bearing Zemtris’ symbol.

What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most?

Opal finds the great city of Waterdeep to be so incredibly strange and wonderful at the same time. His favorite thing is the variety of people present in the city, though he finds it overly complicated.

What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship?

ZEMTRIS!!! His own personal god that he’s trying to start a religion for, he is The Opal Prophet by title. He loves meeting other religious folk but is not too knowing of other religions. There is one particular god however that he very much so dislikes. He doesn’t like gods that decide who lives and who dies. It’s easy to think Zemtris does this, but Opal believes that fate is in the hands of the mortals that bare it, rather than thrust upon them by gods.

If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be?

Opal would want to learn how to properly play a string instrument like a guitar, lute, ukulele or something similar.

Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right.

uhh N/A because I dont sit at a table I’m sorry.

What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence?

Spread the word of Zemtris.

Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.?

He wants to find a place where he can build a great temple/chuch to Zemtris and live there and preach from there, considering that his home. Whether or not he wants a spouse and children depends on how his relationship with Zemtris evolves, as he considers them to be lovers.

Has your character ever been in love?

He has, and is! He is completely literally in love with Zemtris and considers them to be a couple.

What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character?

They were ambushed by goblins beneath the city, and he saw one of his new friends be struck with an arrow that he knows should have ended her life, but she did not die. He hesitated and did not heal her at the time. (I missed a game and Opal was being puppetted, a fellow player was struck with a sneak attack that was an instant kill, but since I wasn’t there to play Opal the DM ruled it unfair to kill her character outright when I wasn’t there to help)

If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead?

Opal probably would have wanted to be a druid if he was able to tap into natural magic, but if that continued to not work as it had been going, he possibly would have become a warlock. He wanted very desperately to connect to something.

What is your character’s favorite season?

Opal loves the Fall.

What would your character’s Zodiac sign be, following stereotypical astrology?

Opal is a Scorpio.

Where in the world does your character most want to visit?

Opal has always wanted to go to interesting locales that he has read about, such as the top of a great mountain or in a vast desert. He has seen the ocean but has never sailed, so that too.

What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made?

Trying to bring a dying man back to life when he was not ready.

Does your character have any noticeable scars? If so, what are their stories?

Opal is covered in special burn scars from when a group of people tried to burn him to death (and succeeded?) in his own church. They are opalescent, which is where Opal took the name. Two of these burns are perfect handprints on his back like small wings, which he believes was Zemtris protecting him.

What animal best represents your character?

Opal would say a mouse, I would say an owl. Creepy how one hunts the other.

If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be?

He would try harder to convince a group of people he was right.

Which other player character does your character find themselves having the most in common with?

If he was in the party proper it would be Siril no doubt, they’re both Firbolgs with a strange connection to life and death.

Does your character regret any particular choice the party has made?

In his waterdeep campaign Opal was very upset that the party killed a group of humanoid creatures instead of questioning them. (Opal has never cast an offensive spell on a humanoid creature)

What would your character say their best trait would be?

Opal believes that he’s very good at seeing through peoples masks, and getting to the core of their person. So, his insight basically.

What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational?

Opal has claustrophobia 

What is currently motivating your character to stay with the party?

Opal stays with any party for as long as he thinks he needs to stay to help them through their personal problems.

What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class?

Opal likes to sing, and he also enjoys woodcarving. He tries to read and write a lot to the best of his ability but he’s not too good at it.

What would most people think when they first see your character?

Incredibly weird looking. Tall, has glowing marks all over his body, no nose? Who the HELL is this guy.

What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?)

Opal is the wise man, the advice giver and the listener.

What is your character the most insecure about?

He’s insecure about some of the nature of death, whether when he kills something it’s because he chose to or it was fated to die by his hand. He also is concerned about why -that thing- happens when he tries to raise the dead.

What person does your character admire most?

In his Waterdeep party, Miss Lilith. If he was in the other party proper, he’d admire Siril and Ida.

What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left?

aaaaa I dont sit at a table N/A

Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)?

Opal grew up in the woods with no formal education, just learning how to survive and be useful. 20 wisdom 8 intelligence babey.

What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music?

Dark country as a genre, but favorite in general is Barnes Courtney

What stereotypical role would your character play in a high school AU/if they attended a normal high school? (Nerd, jock, bully, goth, etc.)

I guess he’d be the guidance counselor? But if he had to be a student he’d be like...the dumb kid who’s just very nice? Is that a thing.

What treasure/item/artifact that your character has collected during the adventure is the most important to them?

His shield. It’s a cross section of a tree, but when he cut the tree down the symbol of zemtris was already emblazoned into the wood. He sees it as a sign that he is doing the right thing.

Is there any particular weapon, item, etc. that your character longs to find?

Opal doesn’t know too many legendary items, but I believe in a high level oneshot he had like a cloak of stars or something? He’d probably like a cool magical cloak, maybe a cloak of eyes or something.

Where does your character feel the most at home?

He has built a few churches in his life, and those always feel like home, but if not that then he does like to go back out into nature.

Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people?

Opal is constantly observing social patterns and body language to make himself as approachable as possible. He will hunch down most of the time to not seem imposing, and all around tries to be as “likable” as he can despite his appearance. He will not change his appearance for someone to like him more, only if he wants to look different.

What does your character think is the true meaning of life?

Opal believes the meaning of life is to experience as much of life as possible, the good and the bad, and take risks. To be alive is to risk the possibility of it ending. But morally to be a good and helpful person.

What is your character’s scent? (Bonus points for a description that sounds like it could be from a bad [or awesome] fanfic.)

I always imagine Opal has mostly a sent of Petrichor (earth after it rains) but that behind that there is always a faint smell of decay or smokiness. He does like perfumes tho so if he’s wearing one of those...yknow he smells like perfume.

Does your character think more with their heart or their brain?

That brain dont do nothing ,he’s all heart babey

What is your character’s most recent or frequent nightmare?

The ceiling caving in on him.

What opinion does your character have on [CERTAIN ESTABLISHED GROUPS/AUTHORITIES IN THE GAME WORLD]? (Dragonmarked Houses, royal crown, etc.)

I’ll use other religions for example. He sees them as necessary, and probably true, but he believes that Zemtris is the best god to follow, and that he deserves to rise up above other faiths, specifically that of the Raven Queen.

How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends?

Opal grew up in the High Forest beneath the Star Mount in Faerun, with his adopted elvish family.

What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?)

Where am I the most needed.

What colors are associated with your character?

Blue, Purple, Pink. Opalescent colors.

Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances?

Opal will save everyone. Not try, will.

Is your character the most swayed by ethos, pathos, or logos?

Opal is completely Pathos, I’m quite sure.

If your character was granted a single use of Wish, what would they use it for?

Either to make sure one particular person lived forever, or that another particular person died and could never come back.

What is your character’s favorite spell? If they don’t use spells: what is their favorite personal weapon/combat maneuver/skill/etc.?

Opal has quite a unique signature use of cure wounds and inflict wounds, but he’d probably say his favorite is healing word bc he gives advice to heal people. The description for how he casts vampiric touch is also quite nice too.

How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party?

Opal actually has written in his journal “A man who is nothing but a pile of secrets is incredibly dull”

What type of creature in the world is your character the most intrigued by?

The undead, he finds them fascinating in how they all are so different. If he learns what a lich is, that would be incredibly interesting.

When they were a child, what did your character want to be, or think they were going to be, when they grew up?

Opal tried to be a ranger and a druid of the tribe but neither worked. He was happy being a treecutter and woodcarver though! He was stronger than everyone else and he was very good at chopping down trees and working with wood.

The player character to your left admits that they’re passionately in love with your character. How would your character respond?

I can actually answer this bc it’s the same no matter what. Opal considers himself in a relationship with Zemtris, and so would not explore other relationships of that manner, romantic or sexual, unless Zemtris asked him to do so.

If somebody (an NPC, someone from their backstory, etc.) your character trusts/loves asked your character to do something against the party’s best interest, who would they side with?

If it was Zemtris he would do anything -unless- it’s conflicted with something Zemtris has told Opal to do before. Otherwise Opal probably would side with the party, theres a reason he’s with them now and the person from his past isn’t.

Does your character value their own best interest more than the party’s?

Opal definitely believes he puts everyone else ahead of himself, and its true to a point, but I know that Opal does all of that bc his goal is to spread the will of Zemtris, so helping others is helping himself.

What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group?

Opal really doesn’t like someone that purposefully avoids his advice, and got angry with his party for, in his opinion “needlessly killing people” 

How does your character imagine the way they will die?

Opal thinks he’s going to die every damn day and sure as hell hopes its an exciting one.

What is your character’s greatest achievement?

I think he really admires that he built his first church on that hill all by himself. He cut down the trees and dragged them up the hill and carved the planks and everything. It definitely took him a few years to do so.

Is your character willing to risk the well-being of others in order to achieve their goal?

That is his greatest conflict that he has not had to deal with yet.

What is your character’s opinion on killing others?

He understands it is necessary, but normally waits until they’ve tried to kill him before he goes for it. If the other party he is fighting is very aware that this is a battle to the death and they agree to it, he has no qualms with doing it.

What is your character’s favorite food? Beverage?

Opal hasn’t gotten to try many things, I think his favorite would be some kind of hearty stew like meal, something very filling, and as a drink probably some juice of an exotic fruit.

How generous is your character? Especially to those they don’t know?

Incredibly, he’ll give away everything he has that he doesn’t absolutely need. 

What is your character the most envious about, regarding anyone in the party?

I think he’s envious of some other people’s natural charisma, he thinks its harder to get people to trust him sometimes.

The player character to your left and the player character to your right are both telling your character two different versions of the truth. Who does your character believe?

Opal would normally elect to believe both people to some extent? But I mean he could just do an insight check, he’s pretty good at it ;)

What is your character’s sexuality/relationship with sex?

So whenever I play opal I start him out as a cis man who considers himself in a relationship with Zemtris, romantic and sexual, however that works. If a character teaches Opal about being nonbinary, Opal identifies more with that, as he realizes he always considered Zemtris a “they” if Opal experiments mostly with other mortals however, he would identify as a male leaning pansexual. He would also be polyamorous.

What is your character’s biggest pet peeve?

People who use overly flowery language to complicate what should be a simple conversation. He hates making something simple more complicated than it has to be, and most of the time Opal thinks things can be more simple than they are.

Describe how your character feels about the party’s current situation/objective/etc.

Opal goes through any journey with the party in kind of...a strange aloofness. He’s just there to help until the story starts being about him, in which case he gets very very aware.

Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret?

Opal doesn’t like secrets much but understands they’re necessary sometimes. He’d trust whoever gave him a really good secret to keep. And since people tend to do that with Opal, he’d default to whoever gave it the most openly to trust him.

If your character knew that they were going to die in a month, how would they spend the rest of their life?

Absolutely nothing would change except that Opal would be incredibly excited and happy to see if it REALLY DOES happen this time.

What makes your character feel safe?

Gentle physical contact

If your character had the chance to rename the party/give the party a name, no questions asked, what would it be?

The Church of Zemtris? XD

What memory does your character want to forget the most?

He doesn’t really -want- to forget anything, even the bad memories. He thinks they are the reason he’s here today.

If your character had to multiclass into a class they currently aren’t the next time they level up, what would it be and what reason would they have for doing so?

Opal actually considered going...fighter? He was in waterdeep and thought that competing in the arena would get him a lot of people interested in him, which is a great segue into getting people to believe in Zemtris. So, learn to fight, get fame, get followers!

What television/book/video game/etc. character would your character be best friends with? (Or: what media character is your character the most influenced by/similar to?

God I think he actually would like cowboy media, and would like people like..John Marston? But also he’d like all the preachers. Maybe he’d like the show preacher. He’d also like...hellboy. If opal lived in modern times I dont think he’d stop watching movies.

What unusual talents does your character possess?

I dont know how unusual of a “talent” raising the dead is in DnD...it’s not a like “look I’m double jointed!!” kind of thing either...I dont know!!

How does your character feel about receiving/giving orders? Are they more of a leader, or a follower?

Opal believes you have to follow before you can lead. He will lead one day but that means he will follow today.

What does your character’s name represent to them? (Or: why as a player did you choose your character’s name?)

Opal is not Opals birth name, duh. His birth name given to him was Finley Lemnis, both variations of the infinity symbol. (Finley, Fin, Infinity) and its official name, the Lemniscate (Lemnis). Opal took the name Opal because of the Opalescent scars he received, and Opalized wood is the first signs he saw of Zemtris, so he calls himself The Opal Prophet, or just Opal for short.

Is your character more of an introvert, or an extrovert?

Very extroverted.

How far is your character willing to go to pursue the “greater good”? Do they believe in a greater good at all?

The greater good is everything.

What does your character want to be remembered by?

He wants to be remembered as the person that brought Zemtris to the world, he believes that would be a very good thing to do, and so he would be remembered as a very good person for doing it.

What would be your character’s major in college?

Psychology? Sociology? Something to work with people and figure out how they tick?

Does your character consider themselves a hero, villain, or something else?

Opal would say he’s just a man who’s trying to do the right thing.

What major arcana tarot card best represents your character?

...hanged man?

Where does your character see themselves in 20 years?

Doin the same shit he’s doing now or dead. Both are fine.

What is your character’s relationship with magic? Are they scared of it, wish to know more about it, indifferent to it?

Other forms of magic besides his own really interest him, he knows natural magic naturally (hah) as a firbolg, and he has clerical magic...but arcane magic really confuses and fascinates him.

Who is your character’s biggest rival?

Uh...self declared the Raven Queen?

What is your character’s guiltiest pleasure?

Hard to tell, I think he really likes gambling and if he actually started doing it he’d really like casual sex. But like theres also the fact that he really likes...dead things and gore? Is that a guilty pleasure? HE’S NOT A NECROPHILIAC but like he finds dead things and zombies and stuff...interesting. God is he a necrophilliac idk he’s a weird man

What does your character hope for the afterlife?

Hopes it’s exactly the same as life just goes on forever.

Who in the party does your character trust the least?

Opal distrusts anyone who dodges any kind of question or gives fruity answers instead of just being straight up with him.

What is your character’s biggest flaw?

He likes to make snap judgements about people, because he figures if he does that, then whether he’s right or wrong, their reaction to his snap judgement eliminates 50% of the possibilities about a person. This however is rude sometimes.

How did your character learn the languages that they speak?

I like to imagine Elvish is actually his first language, he knows giant...inherently by bloodline? Or Zemtris gifted him with the language of his bloodline? He learned sylvan in his training in the forest to try and be a druid, and the next language he would learn is celestial.

What is your character’s favorite school of magic/type of weaponry?

Necromancy- in my opinion healing magic should also count as necromancy bc it’s defined as “controlling the energies of life and death” but healing is evocation for some reason I dont know why.

What is most important to your character: health, wealth, or happiness?

Happiness above all else, then health, then wealth.

What advice would your character give to a younger version of themselves?

Listen to yourself as much as you listen to others.

Are there any social or political issues your character feels strongly about?

He’s...really bad at politics. He doesn’t like the class struggle of the poor vs the rich tho, he’s inherently a charitable person that would take care of the suffering.

What, currently, is your character the most curious about?

Will he live forever or will he die today?

[theamazinguchihabruhs]

Childhood story #2

The wedding

“Fucking dishes,” Shisui closed the tap before taking the gloves off. He threw them on the counter causing it to get wet again.

“Can you put these in the cupboard?” Itachi held two mugs. The curly haired teenager ran his hand through his hair before looking rather annoyed.

“Do it yourself, ‘Tachi!” He snapped.

“Owh, Shisui, I want to but...My height in total is 145 cm. You think I can reach that far?” The eleven years old shoved the mugs back in Shisui’s hands and the older boy was left with no comeback.

“Fine, whatever.”

“So is the moodiness coming from your acne getting worse?” The voice of Itachi sounded teasing.

“It is acne...Wait you said that..I thought you meant pimples.” Shisui put the mugs back in their place.

“You know it is normal around your age-”

“I know that! You don’t have to lecture me.” Shisui sighed annoyed.

“You know what might help-”

“You shutting up about it. You aren’t a doctor. You are allowed to lecture me if you are wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around your neck, like my dermatologist.”

“At Least I know how to spell ‘stethoscope’.” Itachi grinned evilly the moment Shisui looked down at him.

“You were one of mom’s big mistakes.”

“After you.” This kid was on fire, and Shisui only got more frustrated with it.

“Owh...Now I feel bad.” Both Shisui and Itachi looked at Madara, holding a dirty glass, “No wait..I don’t!” With a satisfied look on his face, he put the glass down. “Good luck, suckers.”

“I take that back. He was her biggest mistake.” Shisui said pointing at Madara, who was walking away while sticking up his middle finger.

“Something we can agree on.” Itachi looked at Shisui and they both chuckled before grabbing the gloves.

“Niisan~ Are you ready for our wedding?” The voice seemed to come from behind the corner. Both Shisui and Itachi turned their heads and saw a small bit of Sasuke’s shoulder, who was hiding behind the wall.

“Otouto, I will be done in a minute-” He wanted to walk towards the six years old, but the boy heard the steps and suddenly covered his eyes, “No~Niisan, it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!”

“Ah~ right! Give me half an hour.”

“Half an..Hour..” Sasuke repeated questionable.

“When you look at the clock and see the long line reach the number 12. Alright?”

“Yes!” The kid ran the other way and Itachi couldn’t help but to smile seeing his baby brother run to the garden.

“What is that about?” Shisui asked.

“Owh he wants to marry me. I read about it, it turns out that some kids go through this phase.”

“Why don’t you read a comic book, like every darn kid.”

“Are you jealous?” Itachi raised a cocky eyebrow. Shisui scoffed and turned back to the sink.

“At the very least I expected to be invited to the wedding of my own brothers.” He joked.

“Very well, half an hour by the oak tree in the park. Don’t be late for the ceremony, and as a gift, I would recommend some tomatoes from the fridge, also there is no free bar.”

“Why should I even be going?” Shisui shook his head.

“Can I borrow your white top? I sort of promised him to wear white.”

“No,”

“Comen on! I promised!” Itachi argued.

“Won’t be the first  promise you break in his life.”

“Don’t be mean. I won’t ever do that. And I don’t need your top. I will ask mom.”

“Right, ask for her dress while you are on it.” Shisui rolled his eyes, though it didn’t bug Itachi one bit. As Itachi wore his white pants and his mother’s blouse he had some minor struggles braiding his hair as Sasuke had requested.

“Itachi, what are you doing?” Izuna cocked his head confused.

“Ah, could you help me braid my hair?” Without having to ask for a second time. Izuna was already on it. He sat on the couch while Itachi sat in front of him. “So, I am going to braid a lock on the right and then on the left. Then I will join them together in the back.” He said it like he was really good at it, though the end results were two crappy braids joined together with a hairpin.

“Dad?” Itachi saw his father read the paper, “Could you walk me down the aisle? I am getting married today..Sort of..”

“Are you an adult already? They are right...Time flies by.” Fugaku lowered the paper to look at his son, sitting on the ground. “You look just like your mother.”

“Dad, stop the lame jokes. They are not funny.” Itachi showed one teenage characteristic that stayed with him till the early twenties; he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Sasuke wants to marry me,” Itachi stated, causing Fugaku to drop his paper on the ground.

“It is apparently a phase kids go through,” Shisui added.

“I know that!” Fugaku raised his voice, “Why you? I am his daddy..He is supposed to ask me to marry him.” The old man seemed to be hurt.

“Maybe he knows you will die fast anyway. You are already so old.” Shisui received a deadly glare from his father. “Besides, shouldn’t we worry about him not marrying mom, who is like the only female in this house?” The curly haired boy got ignored.

“It is probably nothing personal, dad,” Itachi said.

“Why am I not invited?” Izuna asked.

“You can come, it’s in the park,” Itachi said and got up from the ground.

“He is there alone?” Shisui’s eyes looked concerned for a moment.

“No, Obito is with him. I think he dragged Madara along.” Itachi grabbed the two candy rings. “You can be the ring man.” he handed the rings to Izuna. “Don’t eat them.”

“I will tag along. I can tease both of you forever with this.” Shisui smiled.

“Yeah seems life is teasing you with the acne,” Fugaku muttered as he got up.

“Dad!” Shisui shouted.

Oxoxoxoxxo

“Ah, there is your bride, Sasuke. Look!” Obito pointed at the grass seeing Itachi walk towards them.

“Aaaah~ aniki is so pretty!” Obito chuckled seeing how adorable Sasuke was as he looked in awe. “Ah, daddy is here too!” He clapped his hands from excitement.

“Am I the only one finding this weird?” Madara sighed, sitting on the grass next to some stuffed animals. “And why does a teddy bear get to be the best man? I am a human.” Madara glared at mr. Roary. “I sure hope his real wedding has an open bar.”

“Shush, it is starting.” Obito threw a branch at Madara.

“Dude..He wore his good shirt for this.” Shisui took a seat next to Madara.

“Even a tie...A ninja turtle tie, but a tie,” Madara added, “So they involved dad in this too?”

“He even got offended why Sasuke wants to marry Itachi and not him.”

“Why do I have such a weird family.” Madara exhaled exhausted.

“We both.”

“Shut up, if freak shows still existed you would be known as Acne-boy the personification of Acne. If you were a comic book character you would be Acne-nator and your super ability would be to gross people out.” Madara turned his head to the imaginary aisle, his hair touching Shisui’s face, causing the boy to sneeze. “Are you catching a cold? Are you alright? Do you want my jacket?” Madara asked, looking at Shisui from the corner of his eyes.

“You need to see a therapist,” Shisui muttered before looking at Obito standing in front of the oak tree, holding a sheet of paper while Itachi and Sasuke were holding hands.

“We gathered here...In front of this oak tree to-”

“Kidding me? You really studied the lines-”

“It is from the internet, now shush!” Obito pointed at Madara, indicated the other to ‘zip it’.  He continued reading the after the sheet of paper before lowering it, “So you two have your own vows?” He asked. Sasuke nodded eagerly before grabbing a sheet of paper from under mr. Roary.

“Come on! He can’t even read!” Shisui threw his head back, not believing the sight.

“Hey! Objections come later!” Sasuke pouted before turning his head back at Itachi. He cleared his throat and turned the sheet of paper around, showing the drawing to Itachi.  “Niisan, this is us! Over like..Uhm..ten years! When we are old.” Sasuke pointed at the two stick figured in the middle, “But we are still happy and we have fun. We always play games and eat dango and tomatoes. I drew these hearts because will still loved you very very much.” He looked up and smiled a teeth showing smile while his cheeks turned pink, “I also drew the moon and the sun because I will love you day in and out. And Maddy made me glue the balloon there because he said I needed it for our honeymoon.”

Shisui eyes widened looking at the glued on condom. He turned his head to Madara.

“He doesn’t know what it is anyway!” He muttered before getting the very same look from Fugaku.

“And I know, there will be times that..I am messy and I think you are nagging. Like, Sasuke take a bath or Sasuke get in your pajamas or Sasuke go to bed and clean after yourself. But I love you no matter what.” He smiled lowering the drawing and grabbed the candy ring to put around his brother’s finger. Itachi laughed and poked Sasuke’s forehead.

“No matter what you decide to do in life. I will love you forever.” He said before joining their foreheads together before putting the other candy ring around Sasuke’s finger.

“With the ‘imaginary’ power invested in me by the country of Konoha. I declare you...Married.” Obito ripped the sheet of paper in two, “You may kiss your spouse.”

“What is a spouse?” Sasuke asked and looked at Obito who pointed at Itachi. “Niisan!” He wrapped his arms around his older brother and pushed his lips on top of Itachi for a short mini-kiss. Itachi lifted his little brother up and Sasuke automatically pressed his cheek against his brothers while wrapping his legs around Itachi.

“So, I have been promised ice-cream.” Madara ran his hand through his hair and looked at Obito.

“This is a beautiful moment and all you can think of is the bargain that made you come here.”

“Hella.”

“Hella, what does that mean, niisan? I mean...Waif..No....Husband?.. I mean spouse!”

“Look at you learning fast, little genius!” Obito patted Sasuke’s head.

“This is a beautiful moment. Let’s celebrate with some ice cream.” Fugaku said as he stood up.

“Yes! yess!” Izuna jumped up and down, “but now that Itachi and Sasuke got married.” Izuna looked at the two before looking back at Fugaku, “Can I marry Madara-nii?”

Fugaku lowered his head before exhaling deeply.

“Children...More like back stabbers…”He muttered.

------------------

*11 years later*

“Niisan,” Sasuke looked at his brother stepping inside the car. He was busy on his phone as his other hand was wrapped around the seatbelt.

“No, you can’t skip therapy. No discussions.” Itachi didn’t even look up.

“Can I have your hand?” Sasuke asked.

“Why?” Itachi asked he frowned while looking at the display.

“Come on, I won’t bite.”

“I don’t know about that.” Itachi put his phone down.

“Come on, worse case scenario, you will lose an arm.” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but losing an arm is a pretty big deal for me.” Itachi sighed and gave in to Sasuke’s ‘pleading’. He turned his head to look at the window before feeling something wrapped around his index finger.

“You may look now.” Sasuke’s voice sounded slightly excited. Itachi didn’t react to it. “Niisan..”

“You said ‘may’-”

“MUST!” Sasuke threw his hands in the air, “you are impossible!” Itachi smirked as he then turned his head around. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at the candy ring around his finger. He looked closer, making sure his eyes weren’t tricking him.

“I walked past a candy shop and they were playing that 50 cent song so..I went to check it out and turns out they are making the exact brand again. I couldn’t help myself to get you your cherry flavored one...Since I ate yours back then.” Sasuke scratched his cheek before looking at his niisan.

“Nii...San..D-don’t cry! I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-” Sasuke gasped as Itachi suddenly jumped on him, his head hit the window, but it wasn’t too hard. “Aniki!”

“I still love you so, so, so much~ Otouto!!” He exclaimed, his chest pressed tightly against Sasuke’s. The younger Uchiha chuckled, letting his hand stroke Itachi’s back.

“Y’know as two old farts...I must admit...You are still pretty...Now get off me before people get the wrong idea-” He stopped mid-sentence, causing Itachi to turn his head around and see Naruto drag Sakura from her arm away from the car.

“Too late anyway.” Sasuke sighed as Itachi smiled and wrapped his arms around his little brother again.

-Special thanks to @emeneska-chan for editing-