So after being inspired by MortalShadowhunter's drabble OC stories from our roleplay, I have made one of my own. :) I'm sorry if I've messed up any characters, some are written better than others, and I've done more of my characters this chapter to get a feel for it, so sorry about that. But if/when I do another chapter, I'll try and make it a more even ratio. Anyway, they're all varying lengths and styles, and I hope you enjoy.
Jillessa Heronstairs's characters: Shae and Ross
MortalShadowhunter's characters: Ember and Aaron
My characters: Felix, Steff, Loki, Percy, Mason, Caspian and Caleb
~~ Felix ~~
There were two sides to a coin.
Just like there were two sides to him.
Heads – a heartless monster. A faerie puppet.
Tails – someone who cares too much. A mundane.
It depended on who you talked to as to which one he was.
So out of his pocket, he pulled out a coin. Rolling it around in his hand, he blew on it, making a mockery out of the good luck gesture. With a flourish, he flipped it into the air, holding his breath as he waited for it to land.
Hearing a tinkle, he opened his eyes and looked down at it, letting out his breath and laughing bitterly. His laugh echoed down the alleyway, like a madman's snigger, vibrating through his small frame.
It was always… Heads.
It seemed his sins could not be forgiven after all.
~~ Steff ~~
Walking quickly down an alleyway in the Downworld Towns, Steff pulled her hood further over her head, trying to appear as nondescript as possible. She wished she was taller, stronger, and not so much of an easy target. But sadly, it wasn't something she could change.
Just like how scared she felt whenever she came.
The Downworld Towns was the kind of place that made her spine tingle, and her heart beat like a tiny bird that wouldn't be restrained. The kind of place that had her hand reaching towards the dagger hidden in her bag before she even knew what she was doing.
So what was she doing here now?
Although deep down she knew the answer to that question, she didn't dare say it out loud.
Pushing down her fear, she focused on her breathing, taking in deep breaths. Straightening her shoulders, she drew herself to her full height. She would be strong.
She had to be.
~~ Loki ~~
Gambling was something Loki knew well.
He knew how to cheat.
How to win.
Who cares how you won? As long as you didn't lose.
After all, he always got what he wanted... until now.
That was one of the reasons why he detested Cole so much. Besides of course, his arrogant, smug, annoying attitude - these all came secondary to the main reason he hated him.
He had won Steff. Despite the fact Loki could tell she feared Cole too, she had taken his side. Cole, of all people! Just the thought of Cole's smug smile made him clench his fists, his vision clouding with anger. She should have been coming back with him, to London, and he knew she would have if it wasn't for that frustrating, stupid Shadowhunter.
The thought of punching Cole's face brought a smile to his own. He could feel the adrenaline rush through his veins, the thrill of it enticing.
Gambling was always a thrill too - it left you hooked until your pockets were suddenly empty, not a chip left in sight. But that would never happen to him, he was too good at cheating for that. Sure, sometimes he was caught and they would throw him out, his appearance dishevelled and rather wild, but there would always be a grin plastered on his face.
Because most of the time he got away with it. He beat his competitors at their own game.
Just like he would beat him at his own game.
~~ Percy ~~
It had taken him a while, but he'd finally done it.
The enormity of his actions hadn't quite sunk in yet. It was such a difficult feat, and probably worth a fortune – although he'd never actually planned on selling it.
Some would probably think it was a joke. Percy Thorn creating a love potion? Out of all people? He could almost hear their laughter, and he pressed his hands over his ears on impulse.
He had to admit though, it was rather amusing that he would accomplish such a thing with his track record. He hadn't exactly had much experience with girls, besides McKenna. Before her, love had seemed as elusive as unicorn blood, a rare and highly prized potion ingredient.
Maybe it was the universe laughing at him all along.
~~ Mason ~~
They were all idiots.
The whole lot of them. Well, the majority of them at least.
Mason watched the daily dramas unfold at the Institute from a distance, sneering at the stupidness of it all. They complained of a relationship gone wrong, or a broken heart, or having lost a friend. It was so pathetic that he couldn't even fathom how they managed to get anything done.
It was as if he were watching them all from above, as if they were merely figures in a game. He looked down on them, because they weren't at his level.
They didn't train. They didn't hunt. They didn't even try. Although even if they did, he thought laughing to himself, they would still be incompetent.
What they were lacking was the drive, the determination to be the best. They were so tied up in the idea that they had to please and befriend others, that they didn't stop to think about how they could better themselves.
He was different.
His sweat was blood. His every hour spent practising, or fighting, or helping the Clave advance.
His head wasn't filled with airy fantasies which would never come true.
His dreams were fully obtainable, and he only had to hold out a hand to grasp them.
~~ Shae ~~
Shae was well versed in the language of boys.
For her, boys were as easy to catch and ensnare as it was for her to put on a new bra.
Like a venus fly trap, she'd wait for her prey to come close. She'd beckon them closer with her looks and a sly smile. Close enough to kiss. And then they were as good as gone.
She knew the ways to make them moan in pleasure. To cause their lips to part slightly, and their eyes to close, in bliss.
She wasn't picky. She'd go for anyone, as long as they were decent enough looking, and not drunk. That was an important distinction for her.
The only thing she would never ever do, is fall in love.
Not that something like that would ever happen, she thought, laughing aloud.
She got bored too easily.
~~ Caspian ~~
Caspian's favourite place to fight was with a wall behind his back.
Since his back was both his greatest weakness and his greatest shame.
One wrong twist of his back, or one wrong punch, and he could suddenly have pain shooting down its length, rendering him paralysed. He couldn't help but surrender to the pain, as it dragged him under its curtain of darkness.
All he could see was red, red, red, and the knife cutting into his back, sawing in slow, calculated motions. All he could hear was the malicious laughter of the faeries, their amusement palpable. All he could taste was the metallic tang of blood, mixed with fear.
Then there were his parent's expressions when they saw him. The disappointment and disgust were clear, as if stamped on their faces. He would have preferred to die than witness that.
Two ugly scars now marred his skin, the lines jagged and raised. The only remains of his once glorious blue wings. His wings, which had been taken as a trophy. A prize.
If he'd been a painting, he would have been thrown out at the artist's earliest convenience. A ruined masterpiece, a shamed and disfigured faerie. What was the difference?
Suddenly jolted awake from his haunting dreams, Caspian sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow. Quickly pulling on a hood and slipping outside, he wandered around the streets, with no real aim or purpose. With his pale skin, vacant expression and dark circles under his eyes, he probably looked like a ghost. Not that he cared in the slightest.
The mundane world confused him, the Downworlders in the Downworlder Towns annoyed him. The Unseelie Court scorned him. He really had nowhere to go.
For every pure faerie he passed, his gaze was drawn to their wings like a magnet. He just couldn't tear his eyes away, no matter how much it made his back ache in memory. He had been pure and perfect like that once, before his world was ripped out from under him.
As horrible as the thought was, the same question always came to his mind. Why couldn't it have been them, not him? They probably wouldn't have even missed their wings.
For him, wings were a symbol of superiority, status, purity and power. Everything it meant to be a faerie. Without them, what was he?
So he got into fights, blaming others for his situation, even though they hadn't even been there. It was illogical, yes, but he couldn't prevent the thoughts any more than he could the pain in his back, or the haunting nightmares, each one repeating over and over.
Most of all, he hated himself for being so weak.
~~ Ember ~~
She would never dream again. Sleep again. Drink or eat again. The smell and taste of food had faded to a distant memory, one she couldn't quite grasp, even though she tried her hardest. Dreams involved imagination, and she didn't know if she possessed that skill anymore.
Now she was more machine than Shadowhunter or human.
An automaton: a moving mechanical device made in imitation of a human being.
A machine
A machine
A machine
She had forgotten what it meant to be human. She was merely an imitation.
It was easy enough to plaster on a smile, for that was what people seemed to like. She could be friendly, kind, thoughtful, for she believed it was all in her programming. Would her true emotions fade over time? Sometimes, she didn't know what was real, and what was not. The programming had infected her mind, like a virus prodding and seeking out the weak points where it could take hold. Where it could reside. Sometimes she wondered if there would eventually be none of her left. If her old self would float away on the breeze like a dandelion, while only the machine remained.
More than anything, she wanted to be human.
~~ Caleb ~~
Life was like a video game to Caleb. And he always knew the terminology and the rules, as well as how to win. So why not relate it to Shadowhunting? It was like a first-person game too, right? Only it was a game in real life.
The Gamer – a Shadowhunter
The Controller – your weapon
Training – studying for the upcoming exams (whoops, should've done that a while ago)
Level up – grow stronger through training
Power-Up – Marks, like an iratze for health
Boss – a greater demon
Noob – a mundane
High-resolution – the Sight
Respawn – demons coming back after being killed
Achievement – being recognised by the Clave
Don't die. Well, that one was obvious enough.
He liked to envision himself as the superhero who always saved the day.
The definition of a superhero: a benevolent fictional character with superhuman powers, such as Superman. They always got the girl, had plenty of adoring fans and always looked amazing (I mean seriously, have you seen their muscles?), even straight after fighting the bad guys.
He supposed that in reality, he was more like the sidekick than the superhero. The one with no powers, but who was good to keep around for a laugh.
Deep down, he knew that as many times as he donned a cape, and tried to save the day, he was really only pretending. After all, he was only a mundane at heart. A noob.
~~ Ross ~~
His twin sister kept telling him to 'get' a girlfriend. As if it was as easy as going to the beach and catching a fish. He supposed it was hypocritical that she told him such things when she didn't have a boyfriend herself, but deep down, he thought she could easily get one if she wanted to. Because she was pretty, smart, and good at flirting and conversing with the opposite gender. Ross, on the other hand, was more like a fish flailing around out of water. Out of his depth.
If a girl said a few words to him, or even looked his way, his mouth went dry and he found he couldn't swallow. And so no words came out, for if he couldn't swallow, then he couldn't talk. And if he couldn't talk, then he would just stand there staring and looking like an idiot. Even worse, an idiot who couldn't talk.
If he did manage to utter a few words, he was scared the girl would laugh at the ridiculous things he came out with. For his thoughts were jumbled and incomprehensible when he was frozen in place.
Girls really were from Venus, an entirely different planet. He didn't understand their species - what those looks they gave him meant, or if when they said 'hello,' if they really meant 'hello,' or something else entirely.
They were a species he had yet to understand.
But he doubted he ever would.
~~ Aaron ~~
Mortals were curious beings. So full of strong, harmful emotions, which sometimes threatened to overwhealm them - regret, anger, resentment, guilt, sorrow, fear and hate. On the other hand, they experienced other ones as well - happiness, love, joy, pleasure, desire and satisfaction.
How they balanced them all, he didn't know.
They were very... intriguing. Like a puzzle he had to solve. He liked to taste the emotions through their memories. He savoured each delicious flavour - the negative emotions were sour, and the positive, infinitely sweet. Rolling them around on his tongue, he could appreciate the different textures and meanings. It was all so foreign to him.
What they never seemed to achieve was contentment. Every one of them searched for something more. The thing was, their lives were so short, that they could never find it. If in fact, there had ever really been anything to find in the first place.
Their lives were practically meaningless, but yet they still searched. They still dreamed and toiled and imagined. In reality, they would barely leave a mark. Their lives would burn out in one brilliant flash. A blinding light.
Then they were gone.