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Silas Edel

Mysterious Islands

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Oct 12 2017, 10:30 AM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width:400px;background-color:black;color:white;text-align:justify;font-size:11px; line-height:95%;"><div style="background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OJoGxaa.png); height:92px;background-position: center;"></div><div style="font-family:Times New Roman;text-transform:Uppercase;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:white;margin-bottom:-13px; line-height:100%;">

come wayward souls

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[/dohtml]The day had started with weary clouds. As the clouds hung in the sky with the promise of rain, Silas had become at ease with peace and quiet the rain promised among the woods. There would be no one to avoid, or track, no lost wanderers. This would be the kind of day, in which Silas would do something rather out of character. He would relax. He spent most of the day, beneath a tree with little to do but think. For once, he let his mind wander from his duties, from his lantern, any stress that had tugged at his sleeve since his arrival. He simply let it wash away.

When the rain began to fall, it brought with it the sweet smell Silas was so fond of. The damp decomposition of the leaves, to mend themselves into the ground. It was a more peaceful cycle of nature, one that Silas was always happy to witness. Rain brought with it the decay of the old and the fuel for the new. Beneath the tree, he was unsure which applied to him. Was he simply waiting for rot, his lantern to go out at any time, or regathering himself to spread new roots?

He didn't have an answer for himself.

And seeing as how at peace he was, Silas did not worry too much about the question. Instead, he let his eyes drift in and out of a tiresome state. Sleep was all too new for him, and he hadn't yet learned to keep to a schedule. More often than not, sleep came for him in moments like this. The rest of his time was spent fighting consciousness until he could no longer. Reluctantly he let his head lean back again the tree and drifted off into a peaceful daze.

Quiet at last.

Alex Russo
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<br></div></div><div style="opacity:0.5; text-align:center; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;"> <a href="http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=12069">pierrot</a>.</div></center>[/dohtml]
Oct 9 2017, 02:35 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width:400px;background-color:black;color:white;text-align:justify;font-size:11px; line-height:95%;"><div style="background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OJoGxaa.png); height:92px;background-position: center;"></div><div style="font-family:Times New Roman;text-transform:Uppercase;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:white;margin-bottom:-13px; line-height:100%;">

come wayward souls

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[/dohtml]Something had changed in 'his' woods and he'd only been here for a short while. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to set up his immediate residence in the woods, but the idea of Storybrooke was not ideal for him in the slightest. The Beast was drawn to change, things that seemed off kilter to the settings he established himself in. The presence of Gregory and Wirt had once set off his alarm, and now it seemed the appearance of this castle had drawn him towards the change. It intrigued him, to say the least. It was new, and perhaps his lantern was associated with it, in some way, shape or form. Down to his core, he did possess human traits, curiosity was not an exception.

Weary investigation had always been a skill set of his. He was never one to charge into a situation. He was armed with his wit, which had kept him alive thus far. Sticking to the shadows, striking vague deals with little interaction were all his fortes. It was only on occasion that his words stumbled, and his logic fell short. Yet today, he worried not for his safety. This sort of situation, a change amongst his usual (however temporary) home, no matter how dangerous had always been a task. Only once in his long life had there ever been a hiccup in handling situations like these.

Perhaps this castle offered the opportunity to begin Storybrooke's Edelwood population.

Out of habit, the beast took to song. A soft hum, at first before song spread through his lips to carry into the woods.He cared not what or - who it attracted. He was in his element once more and there was a certain joy to it. The possibility of continuing his job was a joyous one, and for now, the investigation continued. It was upon the presence of something be it human, not human, or something in between caused his song to dissipate back to silence. For a moment a grin spread across his face, eye reflecting light amongst the dappled shadows of the trees, "Now who, exactly is wandering among the woods?" He beast cooed, eyes darting in every direction.

KAT !
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<br></div></div><div style="opacity:0.5; text-align:center; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;"> <a href="http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=12069">pierrot</a>.</div></center>[/dohtml]
Oct 5 2017, 04:17 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width:400px;background-color:black;color:white;text-align:justify;font-size:11px; line-height:95%;"><div style="background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OJoGxaa.png); height:92px;background-position: center;"></div><div style="font-family:Times New Roman;text-transform:Uppercase;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:white;margin-bottom:-13px; line-height:100%;">

come wayward souls

</div><br><div style="background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/fhYyN5m.png); height:53px;background-position: center;"></div><div style="padding:20px;text-align:justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:11px;">

[/dohtml]For the last couple of days Silas had been walking a fine line. He hardly ever left the woods, it was safer for him there and there were no social complexities to encounter. The woods he considered his own, after all, he needed a place to grow the Edelwood. However, there was one major problem that had plagued Silas upon arrival. The location of his lantern. There was no point in doing much of anything if his lantern was to only burn out somewhere in Storybrooke. He needed the lantern to stay alive, which made his visit to Mr. Gold's a unique occasion.

It was the first time he'd stepped foot in the town in fact. There were no lack of people on the streets and in shops and Silas couldn't help but find it odd. Back home, Pottsfield was the only real town, and it was only during the fall that its members stretched their legs for their harvest festival. It was odd, and Silas so far was not a fan.

His pace quickened every so slightly at the appearance of Mr. Gold's shop. The less time he could spend in town, the better. He was here strictly on business. If Mr. Gold had the lantern great, if there was one thing Silas was good with it was making deals. He was aware of the concept of currency but found such a thing to be too primitive. If they couldn't work out a deal he had no qualms about just taking it and marching right on back to the forest until he'd return home.

Surely it was only a matter of time before he was back in his woods?

The bell rang as he opened the door, and for a moment the beast stopped to look around at the clutter packed into the room. His eyes consumed the room as he looked for any flicker of light, anything to indicate his precious lantern. He took a step in, allowing the door to close behind him and he opened his mouth, "Hello?" He crooned as he began to walk around the store, searching a bit too eagerly.

[ Rumplestiltskin Totally up to you on if Rumple has the lantern or not, either way will be amusing.]
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<br></div></div><div style="opacity:0.5; text-align:center; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;"> <a href="http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=12069">pierrot</a>.</div></center>[/dohtml]
Oct 3 2017, 12:02 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width:400px;background-color:black;color:white;text-align:justify;font-size:11px; line-height:95%;"><div style="background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OJoGxaa.png); height:92px;background-position: center;"></div><div style="font-family:Times New Roman;text-transform:Uppercase;font-size:20px;text-align:center;color:white;margin-bottom:-13px; line-height:100%;">

come wayward souls

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[/dohtml]He hated to admit it but Silas was rather disoriented when he first landed himself in Storybrooke. Luckily, he had landed in Storybrooke's forests. While the lack of Edelwood was disheartening, it gave Silas more comfort than the town he had spotted during his strolls. Silas was a creature of isolation, even in the Unknown he had left the civilizations alone. Mortals he had figured out, where not fond of him in the slightest. So the beast was content with his woods like he always had been. It had dawned upon him that his lantern might have ended up somewhere in town. It had also occurred to him that the lantern might not have come at all. After all his job had been to claim the lost, and shepherd them to their next stages in life.

In the middle of the cool night, Silas' new blue eyes were traded for a glowing milky white in the cover of the night. The beast rolled his neck, a new tick he'd welcomed to cope with the uncertainty. At any moment his flame could blow out, at any moment Silas could actually cease to exist. The only thing that gave him comfort was the fact he had survived in the first place. Some sort of smoldering ash had carried on his fire, and the beast, although not superstitious considered himself very lucky to even be in Storybrooke at all.

<p>But alas, the woods were not up to par. Some of the trees along with not being his preferred variety had begun to die and shed their bark. He knew very well his lantern required a fuel source, and Silas in the meantime intended to care for the woods that hid him from the outreaching town. As long as he could avoid the others, he would. Part of him knew however, no such thing would work out that simply. He had always been forced to fight for what he required.

Now that he was human, he had found things to be more difficult. His stomach would pang in hunger often, and for the first time in his existence, he sometimes found his throat and mouth to be too dry to speak. He was alarmed to say the least, that he needed to provide himself with such basic and primitive needs. So far, he'd been able to ignore hunger, but he often found himself by the pond, which was fairly ironic to him

His time spent in the woods was spent wandering, patrolling even. He rarely set down, put the mortal legs he now stumbled upon would often tire. Upon one such instance, he found himself perched on a tree with a frustrated sigh.

This whole mortal thing was overrated.


Kozmotis Pitchiner
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Sep 8 2017, 12:58 PM
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<h1>the beast</h1>

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<h3>time isn’t real??? . the beast . Over the Garden Wall . Cillian Murphy . mysterious islands</h3>
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<h2>Freeform:</h2>

<p>Edelwoods had always grown in the Unknown…<p>

<p> To many the Unknown was separate from their home worlds, and isolated case of mystery, the purgatory between life and death, and fantasy and reality. The Beast had started as a spirit, intent upon carrying for the Unknown’s ever unique tree. In the beginning, Edelwood grew by itself, the embodiment of the lost and weary. His forest balanced the fragile cycle of life and death. So long as the trees grew he would live to care for and protect the forests.<p>

<p>But, upon one year, or whatever measure of time you prefer, the Beast, after all, can pin down this event to the very minute. In Minutes, even seconds he became destined to become the Beast and abandon his title of protector. A new spirit, one that caused rot and decay, had caused destruction among his woods. There was no guarantee that the Unknown’s protector would survive. The Edelwood withered with him.<p>

<p>As a last chance, the Beast used the oil the Edelwoods made to light a lamp, one he kept his soul into. No longer did his being rely on the living Edelwood trees, but their destruction and oil. He had never been an emotional being, but any kindness he might have held, shriveled up and bloomed into humanity’s evil. By protecting the woods, he was now forced to protect himself. Which by human standards and maybe his own, became a selfish task.<p>

<p>”Come wayward souls, who wander through the darkness,”<p>

<p>The woodsman and his daughter had appeared after the trees had begun to die. The Beast now spent his time, singing in the woods welcoming death to those who were ready to reach the light. He was doing an extra job now, in a way he became a reaper of the lost. The one thing, that the Beast had never understood, is why he had become such a thing? Was it wrong to transfer those who were ready to move on to the afterlife?<p>

<p> After turning the woodsman’s daughter to one of his beautiful Edelwood trees, he no longer had to wonder. The woodsman began to pursue the Beast endlessly in hopes of avenging his daughter. To save himself, and his woods, the beast made up a simple lie. The lantern he had carried so long, now contained the woodman’s daughter’s soul. It was a lie, but it was enough to soothe the woodsman, who was not yet ready to move to the afterlife. The woodsman spent his time, gathering the Edelwood’s oil to fuel the lamp. Now the Beast wandered freely. His lamp was maintained, and his focus could go back to helping the forest and the weary, right?<p>

<p>”There is a light for the lost and the meek.”<P>

<p> Gregory and Wirt had been brought to the Unknown from the bottom of a lake. The Beast saw it only fair to continue on with his duty, but the two step brothers had started the kind of adventure back towards life. While it was not his job to prevent the return to life, that’s exactly what he ended up doing. After all, the Edelwood no longer grew on their own, and he needed oil. The forest was just now coming back to some semblance of life, two more Edelwoods seemed to cause no harm.<p>

<p>Through their adventures, the Beast was always there. To Pottsfield, where Enoch protected those who had already gone. Through their travels to Adelaide, the only woman in the Unknown who never feared the Beast. To Beatrice, the bluebird, cursed to shame her whole family. Even Lorna, the girl possessed by the spirit who had first harmed the Edelwood. The spirit was hungry for death, and constantly Lorna was forced to kill. For the spirit’s life force, for the Edelwood, it too needed. The spirit grew stronger with each casualty. Never was Lorna the flesh-hungry zombie she seemed to be. Instead, after killing, the spirit collected the bones of the dead, to fuel its life. Bone’s were it’s Edelwood.<p>

<p>Wirt and Greg had cast the spirit away. The Beast, compelled by their cleverness knew he’d never want to let the two pass back over to life. They were too clever, too interesting. Their Edelwood trees would be magnificent. Their oil, even nicer.<p>

<p>”Sorrow and fear, are easily forgotten, when you submit to the soil of the earth.”<p>

<p>Greg was a clever boy. He’d found the golden comb, the silver spool of thread. Now all he needed to move onto the afterlife was the sun in a teacup. While he waited for the sun to set, the Edelwood began to grow. He would have had a new tree if it had not been for the Woodsman.<p>

<p>After a quick scuffle, the beast had disabled the Woodsman. The Beast clung to the shadows, watching Wirt and Beatrice try to free Greg from the growing tree. It wasn’t until Wirt pointed out the Beast’s fondness for his lantern that the Beast’s life almost came to an end. With the Woodsman once again in the possession of the lantern, the Beast pleaded for his flame to stay lit.<p>

<p>”Stop! You’ll never see your daughter again, Woodsman! Are you really ready to go back to that empty house? No- Woodsman!”<p>

<p> With a simple blow the Beast was gone...<p>

<p> Or so he thought, the burning ashes that flew from the lantern, were caught among the purple smoke. Only when he landed in Storybrooke did the Beast realize his true form. He was a human now, or at least for now.<p>

<p>The Beast’s abilities beyond turning the ready to pass into Edelwood, are mostly mental capabilities. The beast can create charms that when consumed, allows him to possess any non-human creature. He’s got a sly tongue and tons of wit. He’s rational and blunt, never bouncing around subjects. He has limited magical capabilities to get ‘lost’ in the shadows, yet his eyes still glow, in any sort of darkness, a reflection of his eternal flame kept burning in his lantern. As of now, the Beast seeks his lantern, Edelwood oil can burn for a long time, but the Beast worries how long he’ll actually be in Storybrooke if he doesn’t find it.<p>
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<h2>Meg</h2>
<h3>central . last character: newt scamander</h3>


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