This is a repository of the various characters I have created for Wiki fanfics. I will place summary info for each character here, and maybe put in a random review of each character.
Wings of DisorderEdit
Echoes of StrifeEdit
God of the StarsEdit
|Final Fantasy DragonSoul Character|
Eye colour: Blue
Wing colour: Indigo
Hair colour: Mostly black, some grey
Occupation: Laborer/Ice creator/It will sound better once I explain it
Abilities: Of the cryogenic persuasion.
Hale's role in the story stems from his relationship with a lower-class Hume family that he works with, or shall we say, for? The aim of the character is to offer another perspective on Drake/Hume relationships.
"I MUST ACCRUE GUSTATIVE WORTH."
Quentin Hyatt, blindfolded and wielding twin spoons, sat in front of two identical glass dishes with nigh-identical globs of white dairy product in each one. Theatrically, he plunged a spoon into the dish to his right, and then with a ritardando so abrupt it screeched, inserted the dessert into his mouth. With similar alacrity and deceleration, he sampled the dish on his left, and with utter conviction, yelled, "THE LEFT IS MOST DEFINITELY BETTER!"
"Wrong again, Mr. Hyatt. Maybe the blindfold was a bad idea." Calderone Hale leaned against the storefront wall of Quentin's Confections; it would have immediately given him six splinters had his skin not been covered with scales.
"What!? I've favored Baba's ice cream again? This is confounding!"
"This means your recipe needs to get better, dear," said Lori Hyatt, standing next to her husband in a tired sort of way. She was wearing a black maid's uniform and had several woolen bags slung over her shoulders.
"Nonsense! Learn from your competitors, and then learn how to beat them! That's how you get ahead in the taste test competition of life!"
"Life isn't a taste test, Mr. Hyatt," muttered Hale in a low yet non-confrontational voice.
"Then why am I blindfolded!?!?!?"
Hale and Lori silently agreed that no answer was the best answer in this case.
"Anyway," continued Quentin, dramatically tearing off the cloth rag, "I have news that is actually more important than taste testing, for now. I have, through a method of severe consumer surveillance and spying on Old Woman Baba's Ice Cream Parlour of Tricks and Treats, devised a most profitable method of marketing."
Lori, sensing where this was heading, and hearing the chime of the post office bell tower in the distance, quickly gathered her belongings and headed for the door. "Hale will hear you out, honey. I'm going to be late for work." The door's entrance bell rang a bit louder than usual as she slammed it shut.
"As I was saying," proceeded Quentin without a pause, "Baba's been luring in customers on weekends by offering more cream toppings that usual, as Saturday is payday. She targets working fathers returning home to children eager for Sunday sweets, using product placement to reel the little goblins in hook, line, and sinker. They'll fall for anything!"
"I thought we were trying to attract their business, not antagonize them," Hale pointed out.
"Oh, I'm just identifying our marketing base," said Quentin airily, waving his hands. "We're going to one-up that old bat. Undercut her, even. And this is what I'm going to do: offer what she deems weekend-exclusive every single friggin' day. Ice cream in dishes with choice of fruit topping and candy sauce. They'll be spilling in here like toads. We'll call them Sundays!"
"You might as well put a cherry on top... in case you haven't yet attracted the entire city with your wit," said Hale gravely. His attempts at humor usually reached this sort of uncertain peak and then slid down awkwardly.
"Brilliant! I knew I kept you around for something, old friend," chuckled Quentin. When he saw the nervous expression on Hale face, he barreled onward:
"Just my attempt at the funnies, Hale. No need to look like a gravestone with wings. Now then, you'll need to put in some extra time for me to get this business proposition up and ready in time. Most of the extra product we want is shipped to Enissia and you can just pick it up at warehouses as usual, but I know for a fact that you'll need to go to Ochulus to get strawberries now that they're out of season. Not to mention potential problems with pineapple procurement..."
Hale faintly listened to what Quentin was saying, knowing that the destinations weren't set in stone and could change just as easily as the businessman's attention span. However, we had a feeling that a lot of traveling was in his future... which would involve the Wilderness.
Was it odd that he felt more at home inside alien gates than out in the free world, with those who would be considered his comrades, his brothers? Hale wasn't sure anymore.
"Omigod. Like, omigod. Seriously?" The words echoed in the near empty room save for three teenage girls. The pallid light of the early moon shone softly on the Hyatt storefront, accenting each chipped counter and missing brick in the wall.
"Are those supposed to be heels? I can't imagine any self-respecting person claiming to own those."
"Totally. Probably some random customer." Adele Hyatt gave another nod and continued to listen to the two other girls, who had remained behind after the store's close. The victims in question were a pair of low heels propped against a roughly hewn dining table as if abandoned by their owner. Each shoe featured an obviously fake purple crystal loosely attached to the straps; the overall effect was garish and seemed to support the poor quality of the room's woodwork.
"Well, yeah, thanks for letting us stay, Adele. The store is.... like, nice, I guess? I mean, it could use a facelift" -the blonde girl absentmindedly began stroking her cheek- "but the ice cream is, like, amazing."
"Hopefully you get some customers with better taste..." the redhaired one sniffed, likewise beginning to examine the bright pink and purple polish on her nails.
"Totally... we could really use the business. If you come back tomorrow-"
Hale entered from the back of the store, carrying several cardboard boxes, the top of which was spilling wooden dishes.
"Adele, could you pick those up?"
Adele's guests suppressed high-pitched squeals; hastily, she tried to console them: "It's okay. He just works here."
She turned her attention towards Hale, and said in what she thought was a suitably haughty voice: "I'm busy, Calderone. Can't you leave us alone for once?" The Drakenaer remained silent and began to collect the bowls from the floor.
"Anyway," continued the blonde one, still unnerved, "I mean, who would wear those? I know I wouldn't."
"I mean, if those were real amethyst, then perhaps they'd have some worth, even if they still scream 'fashion nightmare'...."
"Totally." Adele repeated the same word over and over in some sycophantic attempt for friendship. How dare you... those are.. my mom's...
"The soles of your mother's shoes have suffered years of work. I daresay she has better things to think about," said Hale quietly, now sweeping. The swish of the broom was the only sound in the room as the three girls eyed him nervously. Adele's face burned red.
"Um, I think we should go. Now," said the blonde one, slowly realizing their gaffe. A feeble bell on the door heralded their exit. Adele remained behind the register; she had worked there all day. "Dammit, Hale. Even if their friendship isn't real, even if it's a farce... Can you blame me for trying to attract some upper class customers? People who could help m- help us?"
"Your family is real. You should try to appreciate them." He attempted to avoid a lecturing tone, but the response was inevitable.
"Appreciate my life? Look around you, Hale. What is there to be thankful for at the bottom of the ladder? Life is supposed to be a journey, lifting you towards your dreams, not a stagnant cesspool!"
"I don't care about journeys. I care about results. Doing things that need to be done."
"Then do them yourself, long after I leave this place!" Adele stormed upstairs. Hale moved the shoes behind the front counter, where they gleamed reproachfully in the moonlight, and began to lift the chairs onto the tables.
Eye colour: Brown
Hair colour: Sandy brown
Quentin is the head of the family, and as such, gets most of the say in how they spend their resources. Unfortunately, he's a much better spender than saver, embarking on business propositions that usually end up financially belly-up. Despite this, he genuinely wants the best for his family, and is certain that one day his plans will secure a comfortable life for his family. Currently, he is in the ice cream business, taking advantage of Hale's abilities. Though it could be said that Hyatt is the brain and Hale the brawn of the operation, they get along relatively well; Hale knows that his relatively untroubled life in Pelharm is due to his employment.
Eye colour: Purple
Hair colour: Dark brown
Though she works in the same house as Quill Hada, Lori Hyatt is much less known in the Pelharm household, as she harbors less years of experience. Lori gives off the impression of someone perpetually subdued, but her steady income has allowed her family to at least expect food and shelter, in contrast to Quentin's fluctuating financial gambits. Lori's relationship with Hale is not very developed, as she is often at her job while Hale is working for Quentin. She treats him with some degree of respect, but not quite at a level of equals.
Eye colour: Blue (contacts)
Hair colour: Brown, highlighted blonde
Occupation: Student, Aspiring Upper Cruster
Adele is a young lady whose tastes do not match the class she was born into. Though she helps her father with whatever store he's operating year by year, her desired style of living sometimes puts a strain on the family's already meager finances. Adele's relationship with Hale is strained; he often chides her (in a subservient manner, of course) for expecting too much of her family.
Eye colour: Purple
Hair colour: Dark brown
Occupation: Student, Clockwatcher
By nearly everyone he encounters he encounters, Michael is most politely described as "different". Behind his back, the description is usually "that weird kid" or "the simple one". Mike has an unnatural memory - not a savantic memory for everything he's ever experienced, but an excellent and extremely selective memory for whatever he actively tries to remember. There are few, though, who can actually understand or divert Mike's attention, and as such leave him in his own little world of numbers, dates, history, and most peculiarly, clocks...
|Occupation||High School Student, Senior year.|
|Range Weapon||Syringe gun|
|Loves||Rain, card games, lab work, reading|
|Hates||Excess homework, loud people, math|
|Umbrian Epidemic Character|
Hair: Waist length, with bangs framing her eyes.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Sokutei possesses the ability to animate inanimate objects, giving them a life of their own. The personality of such sentient beings may depend on their innate nature or the manipulation of Sokutei herself; she initially finds it difficult to bend her animations to her will, but can command most minor objects to battle for her. In the absence of a defender, she may attack at close range with an array of surgical knives. At long range, she wields a modified medical gun, shooting syringes which inject solutions of her own creation.
Sokutei derives from the Japanese word meaning "measure".