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I was planning on doing the art version of this, but then I decided I was too lazy. X3 So here's the OC meme, writer's style! It's only the first half, since it got pretty long. I really need to draw pictures of the rest of my OCs... Be warned, there's shonen ai in this.

Choose 10 of your OC's. Or, ten of your favorite people (like friends, family, celebrities. Anyone you think is cool.) But, you can't choose yourself.
1. Sakhure
2. Kama
3. Ysilar
4. Kyrinn (Not me, but an OC I stole the name of)
5. Gethin
6. Sjez’lrin
7. Quartz
8. Nel
9. Rheidyr
10. Elis

1) 4 invites 3 and 8 to dinner at their house. What happens?

Nel stared skeptically at the paper in her hand. It was embellished in flowing, elegant script, the black letters standing out clearly against the creamy parchment. It was rather nice handwriting.

“Invitation,” the nineteen-year-old read under her breath, wondering, once again, if this was a wise decision. She didn’t know Kyrinn that well, after all, and up until only a few weeks ago she had thought all of them to be only hallucinations. Now, however, Kyrinn was her coworker. Nel decided it would be prudent to try and strike up a friendship with the fallen angel/elf. After all, one never, ever wanted to piss off Death.

To her surprise, it turned out to be a rather pleasant dinner after all. Kyrinn was a gracious hostess, and the other guest, an elf named Ysilar, was certainly interesting to talk to. Nel enjoyed herself, and made plans to go soul-collecting with Kyrinn sometime. After all, Death and the Moirae had a lot in common.


2) 9 tries to get 5 into a strip club.

“Gethin, do you want to go to a strip club?”

”Aw, hell yeah!” Gethin exclaimed enthusiastically, seizing the Knight by the wrist and dragging him off with alarming eagerness. “And here I thought you’d be like the rest of those stick-up-the-a** Knights!”

Rheidyr, meanwhile, barely paid any attention to the devil’s words. At the moment, his mind was asking him questions running along the lines of Where the hell did that question come from?? I was just trying to ask for directions to the nearest grocery store!

“So, like, last time I was on Earth, I tried to get Azhar to go with me. Hah, you shoulda seen the look on that pansy’s face when he saw where I was leading him! That guy is fun to mess with!” Gethin rambled on, then paused when he noticed Rheidyr’s zoned-out expression. “Hey, what’s the hold-up?”

“Wait, wait…that wasn’t what I meant. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to a strip club.” Rheidyr facepalmed as soon as the words left his mouth again. What the hell? Did he suddenly develop Tourette’s?

Gethin gave him a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what you just said?”

Somewhere in another dimension, Xidane gave just about the evilest giggle ever heard. The author was having way too much fun with this.


3) You need to stay at a friend's house for the night. Who will you choose, 1 or 6?

Sjez opened the door to his room at the knock, cautiously peering out. Normally, the trelves in the castle didn’t have the manners to knock and preferred smashing doors down with axes instead. This was now being discouraged by the royal guy, since he was the one footing the bill for repairs, but although knocking on doors was now the official manner of declaring one’s wish of entering, the only one who did so on a regular basis was Al.

Last time Sjez had answered the door, he’d been struck blind by a shimmering haze of pink. Apparently Al had just discovered the joys of glitter.

To the trelf’s intense relief, however, it was not the captain of the guard and official toast maker who stood before him, but a human who looked vaguely familiar.

“Hey Sjez!” Xidane greeted the taciturn trelf. “Mind if I stay over tonight? The fourth-wall repair gnomes are on strike again and my tower was overrun. I would have stayed with Sakhure, but she’s on her ship and I get seasick,” the author explained.

Oh, the author, Sjez realized blankly. “Sure, I guess. You might want to stay out of the way of His Majesty though. He’s still mad at you for drawing that face.”

“Oh, I’ll bet. Don’t worry, I’ll lurk in your room with Gil here.” The author held up a fuzzy black shadow Heartless plushie. Sjez stared.

“Right…are you staying for dinner too? I’m making crayon fricassee with a side of seared petunias.”

Xidane coughed. “Er…yeah. I think I’ll go for takeout.”


4)2 and 7 are making out, 10 walks in. What happens?

Kama growled as slender fingers tangled in his crimson hair, pulling his head back abruptly and rather painfully. The unicorn-hybrid leaned over him, teeth bared in a feral snarl.

“Submit, peon,” Quartz commanded, pale blue eyes slightly glazed over with lust.

“Hell no,” Kama replied with a grin, as he had the last nine times the General of the Heart army had demanded his surrender, then gasped as sharp, gold-painted nails raked over his bare shoulder. “You talk too much, Quartz. If you need help putting your tongue to better use, I have a few ideas…”

The unicorn-hybrid’s eyes narrowed. “If you think I’m going to let you top—”

His next words were cut off by a rough kiss as Kama took advantage of Quartz’s distraction. The unicorn-hybrid winced despite himself as the other’s fangs pierced his lip, drew blood.

Of course, it was at this precise moment that the door swung open and Elis (or, as he preferred to be called, Dragonboy) walked in.

“Oh, geez, guys, get a room!” Dragonboy abruptly swung around.

Though he had to relinquish the upper hand, Kama couldn’t resist pulling away to answer that comment. “This is a room,” the vampire pointed out with a grin, then yelped as Quartz pounced on him, pinning him to the couch.

“It’s the living room! Also known as a public place!” Dragonboy threw his hands up in the air, fully intending to walk right out. A strangled moan from behind him caused the soul sorter to turn again, unable to quash his curiosity. He tilted his head in a mixture of disgust and fascination before suddenly voicing a random observation.

“You know, you guys…your hair colors clash.”


5)3 falls in love with 6, 8 is jealous. What happens?

For the second time in two days, a knock sounded at Sjez’lrin’s door. Expressionless as ever, the trelf left the enormous pile of letters and decrees that he was stamping with the royal guy’s seal and went to the door, pulling it open. One long eyebrow lifted as he beheld the person standing there, and even more so when he registered what the guy was equipped with.

“So, yeah,” Ysilar muttered, looking off somewhere to the side and shoving a box of chocolates and a bouquet of red roses into a confused Sjez’s hands. The elven mage was blushing. “These’re for you.”

Sjez’s eyebrow went up another half centimeter. “What…for?”

“I, um. They’re just…it’s a present, all right?” Ysilar looked defensive, glancing about for any possible thing that would diffuse the tension of the situation. Footsteps sounded down the hall, and both elf and trelf quickly looked in that direction to see Nel Traverse approaching.

Nel gasped upon seeing the two, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. The girl’s voice dropped dangerously. “Ysilar…I thought you said you couldn’t quest with me today because your grandmother was sick.”

The elf almost flinched. “So I lied,” he grumbled, not sounding nearly as disaffected as he would have liked.

“So what, do you just not like me or something, that you’d rather spend time with him?” Nel waved a hand at the blue-skinned trelf. “I mean, I know Sjez is probably a better tank than me, but…seriously, Ysilar, if you didn’t want to quest, you could have just said so!”

“I-it’s not like that!” Ysilar protested, blushing even more now. “I just…I mean, I kinda…” The elf’s words trailed off in a mumble. “I think I like him…”

Sjez blinked at the mage. And again. Then:

“Didn’t masked-phantom say we were related?”


6) 4 jumps to you in a dark alleyway, who saves you? 2,7, or 10?

”Seriously, what have you done with my brother?” Kyrinn’s voice remained even but her single jade-green eye was glittering dangerously, and her scythe was in hand. Xidane backed up, rather disconcerted to find a wall at her back.

Maybe this is a fourth wall, and I can break it, the author pondered thoughtfully. “I haven’t written your brother in a while, but he’s still here,” Xidane promised, inconspicuously pressing against the wall. Not even a crack. Dammit.

“I want him back,” Death growled, raising her scythe so that the silver edge was poised to lop the author’s head from her neck with one sweep.

Standing nearby, Kama, Quartz, and Elis looked on.

“So…think we should help her?” the vampire asked in a tone of mild interest.

“Which one?” Dragonboy returned. “I don’t wanna get on Ky’s bad side.”

“What makes you think the author is deserving of my help?” Quartz scoffed, checking his nails for any chips. They were flawless, as ever. The unicorn pulled a pocket mirror from his pocket and began rearranging his immaculate seafoam green curls. “And I don’t even see why we must stand in such a filthy place.”

“Yeah, let’s go somewhere else,” Dragonboy agreed.

Kama cast one last glance at the author and her imminent demise, then shrugged. “Right behind you.”


7) 1 starts a cooking show. 15 minutes later what is happening?

“Welcome to today’s edition of Underdark cooking!” Sakhure announced cheerily. The drow did not look as if she fit into the cozy kitchen, dressed as she was in her typical armor and cape, saber belted at her side. The only indication that she was the head chef was the white chef’s hat perched on her head like a giant marshmallow. Ominously, it was splattered with red.

“Don’t mind the hat, folks,” Sakhure reassured everyone hastily, seeing where most of the gazes of the audience was directed. “The last chef had a bit of a…mishap with the ketchup. And the blender.

“But nevermind all that! Today, I will be your guide in the fine world of cuisine. For those of you who would prefer to leave cooking to servants or slaves, don’t leave just yet! We will be exploring the many useful applications of the cooking skill, twisted to ways beyond your wildest imaginings.” The drow captain/chef grinned viciously. “But first, let’s go over the basics of food preparation.” She reached down somewhere below the counter and pulled up a dead rabbit.

“As you can see here, we have a raw rabbit. Many types of food ingredients may be purchased from the market, but I prefer to hunt mine myself. This way, the meat is guaranteed to be fresh, with no preservatives or added crap. Now that we have our base ingredient, we take our knives…” So saying, Sakhure drew her saber with a grandiose movement. “And cut the rabbit up in whatever way we feel like. Preferably in a manner that is aesthetically pleasing. Oh, and be sure to get rid of all the fur.” The blade descended upon the unfortunate rabbit with frightening speed. It was quickly joined by a dirk held in the drow’s other hand. Within moments, the rabbit was neatly skinned and all ready for cooking.

“We then add some salt or herbs or whatever the heck you want. It doesn’t really matter how it tastes, since your target will be dead soon anyway. Just as long as it looks presentable.” Sakhure dashed some salt on the rabbit and garnished it with a few leaves of some herb.

“And then, we cook it. Most people use an oven or even an open campfire, but I prefer to use…” The drow held up a hand, engulfing the rabbit in a burst of flame. “Magic. It gives it that special touch. Just be certain not to burn the thing too much. House wizards are useful for this sort of thing. There’s an added bonus that they’ll be really ticked at having their magic used for something so mundane.

“Now for the finishing touch: add whatever types of poison you like. The best bet is one that you have the antidote for, just in case you accidentally ingest some of your own food.” The drow did just that. “And now it is ready to be served to your target. Remember, everyone, an army marches on its stomach. Even the most cautious of your enemies will let her guard down at some point in time. Of course, you could also just sneak into the middle of the enemy camp and poison their well.” Sakhure shrugged. “Either way works. And that concludes this week’s segment of Underdark cooking. See you next time!”

Needless to say, the show didn’t stay on air for very long.


8 )3 has to marry either 8, 4 or 9. Who will they choose?

”But why?” Ysilar protested. Xidane only shrugged.

“Cuz the meme said so?” A chunk of the fourth wall broke down and stayed down, as the gnomes were still on strike. Ysilar groaned.

“Just make a choice,” the author advised the elf.

“Ugh. Fine. I’d go for one of the girls, but…” The elven mage winced at the look Nel was shooting him. Clearly she still wasn’t happy about what had happened with Sjez. Not to mention she’s one of the Fates…I don’t think I want to get tangled up in something like that. She could cut the thread of my life on a whim. Ysilar shuddered. And Kyrinn’s cute, and a mage like me, but she’s Death. That’s even worse…I think. Why can’t the author make a normal woman for once?? The elf let his eyes drift to the third choice. Rheidyr’s pretty cool, I guess, and he’s a good meatshield…but he’s a guy. I’m not gay! …Except for the thing with Sjez. But that was author-induced!

“You’re an elf, dear. No one’s going to make a big fuss if you choose to go with Rheidyr,” Xidane said placidly. The Knight in question blushed slightly and Ysilar scowled. Damn you and your mind-reading skills, human!

“I heard that,” the author added dryly.

Ysilar ignored her and looked over he choices again. Really, there was only one choice that was viable…with a sigh, the mage dropped down to one knee.

“Kyrinn, will you marry me?” She’s an elf, and a mage, like me. And she’s pretty. We should get along together fairly well, Ysilar thought to himself, refusing to think about the fact that he had just proposed to Death.

Kyrinn smiled sweetly, her bangs hiding her missing eye and the trickle of blood than ran from her eye socket. “Yes, all right,” she replied, sounding more amused than anything else. “Till Death do us part?”

Ysilar groaned. What had he just gotten himself into?


9) 7 kidnaps 2 and demands something from 5 for 2's freedom. What is it?

“And what makes you think I give a damn about his freedom?” Gethin asked, but the manner in which the devil was eyeing the vampire betrayed his interest.

“Come now, Gethin,” Quartz chided. “Give me the lion’s soul and he’s yours. It really should be no trouble for one such as yourself.”

“I’m not Death or a soul sorter,” the devil pointed out.

“You’re friends with them. It’s a simple favor,” the unicorn replied, not troubled at all.

Kama, meanwhile, scowled through the gag. The unfortunate vampire was chained to the wall, hands manacled and an iron collar around his neck. That b*****d Quartz was apparently attempting to trade him off for the soul of the unicorn’s fiercest rival, the Lion of Spades. The Lion and the Unicorn, fighting for the crown... Maybe I should have just let him top.

Gethin bared pointed teeth in a grin. “Alright, General. I’ll see what I can do for you.”


10)Everyone gangs up on 3, does 3 has a chance in hell?

Ysilar stood in the middle of the ring of OCs, all of them with their weapons drawn and thirsting for blood. The elven mage growled an incantation, raising a wall of flame between them and him. “Give up,” he called out, far more confidently than he felt. “It’ll take me a few moments to cast Armageddon, but I can easily hold this wall in place until then. In three minutes, you all will be reduced to charred bones.”

“Aw, fight fair!” Gethin protested, pitchfork—erm, I mean trident—in hand. “You’re just postponing the inevitable!”

Ysilar ignored the devil, already beginning on his spellcasting. These people would pay for even thinking they could take him—

A bone-numbing cold touched him to the very core, and the elf gasped, shuddering, his concentration broken. The heat and roar of the flames disappeared suddenly, and Ysilar’s dark eyes widened when he saw what had happened to his firewall. The dancing flames were encased in blocks of ice.

“You are a skilled mage,” a voice said to him, right beside him. Ysilar spun around, a defensive spell at his fingertips, only to have it dispelled. The elf gritted his teeth as he gazed upon his challenger.

“But…” The feeling of magic running through her veins, sparks coalescing into a spear of violet energy in her hand, Kyrinn smiled. “Not quite skilled enough yet.”