Sorry if this seems presumptuous, but I'd really like to be a secondary character. I like the way my self-insert in your True Names story works, as a major member of the supporting cast but not a main character. Do you think that might be possible? If not, I'll just be tertiary.

Age: 17

Personality: Quiet, down-to-earth, doesn't like to draw attention to herself. Rather weak of both body and will, but fervently wishes she were stronger. Not easily provoked, but easily goaded into something- i.e. if you try to get her mad it won't work, but she'll brood on whatever you insulted her with for days, and maybe do something either to prove to herself that she isn't what you said she was (stupid, lazy, clumsy, etc.) or to get you back.

Appearance: Long black hair, pale skin, sad blue-gray eyes. Height and facial features unremarkable: she's no great beauty, but she's not ugly, either. Prefers simple, well-made clothing, whether or not her Clan is very wealthy and therefore able to afford more elaborate outfits.

Other: If her Clan is one of the powerful ones, she feels as though she needs to live up to her family name, but despairs of ever actually doing so...at least, at the beginning of the story.

I love this idea! Well, I love all the rp ideas. But this one is really cool!

Age: 14

Personality: outgoing and fun, can be a bit brash. Loves adventures and taking risks, but cares immensely for her friends and won't put them in any unnecessary danger. Always smiling, so no one guesses how she worries almost constantly for her life (I have an amazing explanation for this, and I will gladly tell if Brookeira gives me the go ahead!) 

Appearance: long dark brown hair usually in a high ponytail or braid, sparkling hazel eyes, pretty features. She's also very tan from the bright sun and salty air.

Other: Well, I am kinda giving you a lot of hints...

Name Suggestions: Nope! I'm really bad at names. Honestly, it's a relief to not have to pick one. Just please don't make it something flowery or excessively elegant. 

I guess that's all! Can't wait for this to start.  

Chapter 1, Part 1:

Abhors are a beautiful monstrosity.

It was Hlynneth’s phrase, a mantra of sorts, a chant whispered in the darkest corner of her cell when she thought she was alone. It was the phrase she had whispered countless times, rubbing it into meaninglessness. Hlynneth had always known she’d be different, ever since she was gifted with blue lines circling her wrists, intertwined with the violet ones like some overcast stream.

Hlynneth spoke that phrase, for she herself was an Abhor.

Clan Psyon, the scholars, her birth clan: they were the most accepting of Abhors. Clan Pyron, the ruling class, was unfortunately the least.

And so, Hlynneth was destined to rot amongst criminals and Necrons whose crime was existence. Ever since her thirteenth birthday.

Hlynneth wished desperately to escape, but the Hampering Clasps prevented her. Hlynneth would rather be a criminal on the run than never get to read a book again.

She stood, painfully and slowly, careful not to disturb the sleeping Clan Rivvon member below her. Even in the prison, Hlynneth was cast away for her unusual marking.

Hlynneth walked to the bars to look at her marks in the light. The tendrils of her home Clan wound around her arms, lines of twisting violet runes, in time with the blue rippling waves of Clan Rivvon.

Hlynneth’s heart ached when she remembered the accusations thrown at her family; that her father was cruel and drove his wife to cheat him, that her mother had slumbered with sailors of Clan Rivvon to produce her, that she was a bastard child of a tainted family. None of it was true, though it all made sense.

Hlynneth smiled as a guard passed; the guard spit at her feet. When he stopped outside the post, Hlynneth was sure to tie his laces to the bars.

She would have done it with her Psyon abilities, but… the Hampering Collar was painful if crossed.

The Collar, a thick piece of metal enchanted to shock when activated. Activation? Using her hereditary abilities.

Hlynneth heard a cough from behind her. Her only friend was awake.

She ran to the old Clan Necron woman, who smiled and patted the bare ground next to where she was chained.

“Dleia!” Hlynneth smiled at the old woman.

“Ah, Hlynn,” she sighed, “come close.”

Despite Hlynn’s friendship with the only woman who would trust an Abhor, she did not wish to come closer. Like all Necrons, the woman had an aura of death around her, a shroud of eternal invisible fog. Hlynneth went closer anyway, smiling.

“Dleia, what do you wish to say?” Hlynn asked with a smile.

Dleia took Hlynn’s paper-pale face in her hands, smiling sweetly. Hlynn’s auburn curls fell over her hands in pools, waves. Dleia’s eyes were full of tears, and Hlynn tilted her head, confused.

“Dleia, are you ill? Forgive me, I can’t identify any symptoms you may have in this low light, I-“

“Quiet!” the guard barked. Hlynn scowled at him before turning back to Dleia.

“My dear child, I am not sick,” Dleia whispered, “merely afraid.”

Hlynn felt a pang of concern, and guided by Dleia’s hands, hoisted Dleia into a sitting position.

In a shaft of amber light from the guard’s lantern, Hlynn saw that Dleia’s collar was glowing.

“Dleia,” Hlynn gasped, “your collar-you can’t attempt to use your power! It’s about to-“

Dleia sucked in a sharp breath as it shocked her, but continued creating a black aura of death around her wrinkled hands. Hlynn shrank back, but Dleia beckoned her closer.

Hlynn was panicked. “Dleia, Hampering Collars will build charge every time you activate them! The shock will eventually be enough to kill you!”

“Hush, dear,” Dleia whispered, “I am doing this for you.

“I was powerful, before I was discovered. I could kill with a touch, rot metal with my fingertips. I was exactly the kind of person that our rulers, the Pyrons, feared.”

“Dleia, please, stop,” Hlynn said. Dleia put her fingers on Hlynn’s collar. The metal began rusting, curling in upon itself.

“No, child. I am old. My time has already come. You are young, and have the potential to escape. Were you very powerful?”

Hlynn smiled. “Y-yes. Very, until they threw me in here.”

“Good. You’ll need that power and wit of yours to get out.”

Dleia groaned; she was losing consciousness. Hlynn’s collar withered away into nothing, and the rust-dust of its previous shape clattered to the floor.

Hlynn felt the bare skin where the collar had been, warm from the contact, smattered with rust. She stood and twisted her neck, hearing the soft prop-po of her neck’s vertebrae. Hlynn flexed her hands over her neck, the rust that had rubbed off creating brown flecks like a mottled dog’s fur.

She turned and saw Dleia, lying completely still. Hlynn ran to her and pressed her fingers to Dleia’s wrist, harder, harder, creating a bruise on the dead flesh.

Dead.

Hlynn felt tears coming; she was crying now, sobbing. The guard said nothing; he’d been asleep for the last three minutes, unaware of Hlynn’s regained freedom. Hlynn clenched her fists, tears running down her face.

Minutes later, Hlynn was breathing more slowly, quiet, tears evaporating into invisible mist. Hlynn stood, nails biting half-moons into her palms.

Her Clan Psyon purple lines glowed as she used her power for the first time in over a year.

The guard woke to see a purple aura expanding around him; he didn’t have time to call out before she slammed him backwards into the prison bars.

He started at Hlynn’s breath at his ear, haggard and full of dripping rage.

“Let me out of this cell and walk away freely, or I choke the life from you,” she said.

He nodded rapidly; she could strangle him long before he could use his inborn Clan Terron abilities to fight her. Even over a year out of practice with her abilities, she was powerful.

He unlocked her cell door and she ran out, but paused. Her blue lines glowed as she formed water around him, freezing it and attaching him to the bars.

“Heh,” she smirked, “having the powers of a Rivvon is satisfying.”

Hlynn leaned in close. “I am an Abhor, guard,” she hissed, “a beautiful monstrosity. And don’t forget it.” 

Oooo! Me likey!!!!

Chapter 1, Part 2~

The Lone Hound Tavern was rank with the scent of people; bodies packed tightly into knots of flesh like sardines in a can.

Sardines would smell a shade better, Niekii thought.

Niekii’s eyes roved over the men at the bar, wondering who would tip best. A server was already helping the lone Clan Pyron noble, Niekii noted. Clan Psyon never drank, it damaged their all-knowing reputation if one of them got drunk; Clan Terron and Clan Floron had no rich. There were a few merchants in Clan Rivvon who were very rich, and there used to be rich Clan Necron doctors until the Clan Pyron came to power and threw all of them in jail.

Niekii saw a thin girl sitting in the back, brooding.

Blast, Niekii, you can’t go chasing after some waif. There are men here who will pay you their last cent for a wink or flirt. Don’t talk to her!

Niekii felt unusually drawn to the girl, however; perhaps the girl was a Clan Rivvon. Niekii, as a Clan Floron, was drawn to Clan Rivvons, for they represented water.

Niekii used her inborn ability, putting a flower seed in her hair and making it bloom as she walked to the girl.

The girl smiled, haggard. “You’re quite good with your gift,” she smiled.

“Thank you,” Niekii said, polite. Niekii, in reality, was anything but polite, but if it would pay the tax collector, she’d do it.

“Clan Floron, I assume?” the girl said. Niekii nodded, forcing a smile.

“I’m Niekii, and I’ll serve you,” Niekii said, “and you?”

“Hlynneth, but most call me Hlynn,” Hlynn said. The “H” was spoken quietly, hushedly, with a thin Clan Psyon accent.

“So, what Clan?” Niekii asked, curiosity piqued. Hlynn stiffened visibly and pulled at her ragged long sleeves.

“None of your business,” Hlynn said.

Niekii had lived on the streets long enough to know when someone was acting out of character and when they were hiding something. This girl was doing both.

Perhaps she was a Psyon, technically forbidden from being here.

No, no… Psyons would be in the Capitol, where they had many high-class taverns to choose from if they wanted a drink. That could only mean…

Niekii gasped, “Are you an Abhor?”

“Shh!” Hlynn hissed, panicked. Niekii leaned closer and made the table bouquet grow to cover their conversation.

“Fine, sorry. But is it true?”

“Yes!” Hlynn snapped, rolling up her sleeves. Lines of purple runes and lines of blue waves twirled up her arms. Niekii gasped, and Hlynn winced visibly.

“They… they’re beautiful,” Niekii said.

“What?” Hlynn asked, incredulous.

Niekii composed herself. She couldn’t be caught fraternizing with an Abhor.

“What?” Niekii asked in return, coolly, “Are you hearing things, sugar?”

Hlynn looked at Niekii suspiciously. “Alright… I see how you want to play it. I’m from Clan Rivvon, and my name is Tassha. You don’t know a Hlynn.”

Niekii nodded; Hlynn was telling Niekii to tell no one of Hlynn’s presence.

“Okay, Tassha,” Niekii said, saccharine smile playing on her lips, “I’ll get ya a glass of water.”

Hlynn nodded, scowling.

Niekii walked away, desperately attempting to strangle the flower of curiosity blooming in her chest.

She paused for a moment, and made a descision.

A minute later, she walked back to Hlynn’s table with an old black cotton shirt that Niekii had worn a few years ago that would still fit Hlynn.

“Here, honey, your shirt is awfully ragged,” Niekii smiled.

Hlynn met her eyes, shocked, then smiled. Niekii innocently toyed with her platinum-blonde braid, cerulean eyes blinking with mock innocence into Hlynn’s sea green ones.

“Thanks,” Hlynn smiled, slipping it on over her old shirt. Niekii winked, and vowed to never speak to the Abhor again.

Niekii was terrible at keeping vows. 

THIS IS AMAZING! Can I please be in this?

Hi! This is Brookeira.

Thank you so much for your support! There will be more soon, it's just a matter of writing it.

Starbringer, you can join. Sorry to anyone who joined Curio and onwards, you will be tertiaries.

Chapter 1 Part 3 coming soon!