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Fate's Boredom

New York City, the place to find psychos


a part of Fate's Boredom, by cass-isnt-here.


cass-isnt-here holds sovereignty over New York City, the place to find psychos, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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New York City, the place to find psychos is a part of Fate's Boredom.

11 Characters Here

Ian [6] Why show shitty emotions if they make people around you feel just as bad?
Unmei Kanjō [5] My creations are so wonderful that I wanted to interact with them. I am sorry for being so selfish.
Azryel [3] "Prisoners of fate... la le lu, someone's got their eyes on you."
Ayumi Mikai [2] "Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends."
Malice [1] "Get off me. Or do you want to fight?!"
Azalea [1] Sweet and innocent...and partly insane
Muryo Atisuto [0] I always smile, because it might be the only smile that someone could see in the day...
Voltain Stoneheart [0] "I don't have feelings...How am I supposed to fall in love? This is impossible..."
Crimson Grey [0] Eyes are the window to the soul...some windows arent meant to be looked through.
Mara Orianna [0] Oh, you want to know about me? I guess you could say I'm insane, in a good way. As long as you don't say anything about my appearance or my poetry, you'll be okay.

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Character Portrait: Ian Character Portrait: Azalea
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Azalea and Ian
Written by: Flowergirl275 and Cass-isnt-here

“I would like it to be true, but I don’t think it is,” Ian replied. Azalea’s first thought was that he was just joking around with like he always did; it was another one of his amazing and lovely qualities that she loved so dearly, but this time, he seemed different. He looked like he had put a lot of thought into his response. Ian’s voice was quiet, almost hardly audible, and his eyebrows were scrunched together like his mind was working extremely hard to give a genuine answer. He looked so perfect in that moment. Azalea could not think of anything else at that moment except for how wonderful he looked right then; not even about what he had just said. “Why do you ask?” Ian inquired, pulling Azalea back to reality.

It took Azalea a few very long seconds to start to process his words. They did not make any sense to her. It was as if he had answered in a foreign language. Azalea decided not to try to make sense of his words and just answer his question. Looking at Ian, Azalea knew that he was going to like her response. He had to. Azalea had waited years for this moment to come, and now there she was with the most beautiful person in the world with him waiting for her to start there fairy tale ending. Taking a deep breath in to absorb how amazing she felt right then and there. She never wanted to forget a second of it.

“I asked because I love you Ian. I love you the way that I love roses and orchids and tulips and Poinciana flowers and every other flower for that matter! I love you more than dancing and foreign children’s toys and bright colors! You are the reason that I love to dream at night because I only have one dream: you and me standing in a field of flowers together kind of like we are doing now! You are lovely in every way!” Azalea’s smile grew more and more as she spoke. Her pearly teeth were so bright and exposed that if she opened her mouth anymore that her jaw would surly snap. She didn’t care though. All that mattered was that she was there in a meadow with Ian having her happy ending.

Ian arched his uncovered eyebrow when Azalea finished her eloquently spoken monologue, which proclaimed her love for him. The first thought that entered his mind was shit. He always wondered why she was always around him and saying mush, cliché phrases all the time when she was around him…

Well now he knew.

He regrets knowing.


Because now Ian had to break the poor girl’s heart. He didn’t feel anything like “love” for her. She was a sister to him. Not a girl he would crush on. He sighed softly causing Azalea to look at him with that stupid doe-like expression. Why did she have to be so innocent and sweet?? Why couldn’t she just know that he wasn’t capable of loving someone the way she “loves” him.

She watched him intently, it was painfully obvious she was pinning for a positive answer from him. He winced. Ian felt like a terrible person, having to break the innocent girl’s heart. Why did she have to fall into the deep abyss known as love for him? Ian wasn’t that great. He was full of flaws, full of disgusting emotions that he buried away. When he took control of the body, he spent most of his time annoying people or beating them up. Didn’t she know that?

Didn’t Azalea know he was a corrupt person?

That stupid, flower-like woman just had to fall for him. He really did not want to break Azalea’s delicate heart. He was weak. He didn’t want to face these emotions she had for him.

How long? How long had she pinned for him while he was being an obvious bastard? Too long.

She watched him glare into space, trying to build his courage. Her hope was slowly draining, being replaced with anxiety.

Ian sigh before opening his mouth to say the words that would destroy her emotions for him, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize your feelings before…” he trailed off, Azalea’s hope sky rocketed. At this his lips turn into a pained smile.

“I’m also sorry to say that…I don’t feel the same way you do. You are more like a sister to me rather than a lover. I don’t love you in the way you love me. I care about you. But I don’t love you. I’m not a flawless person as you think I am. I have a shitload of flaws. So…sorry,” his voice was blank as a sheet of paper. There weren’t any emotions that needled its way through his voice. He stared into space the whole time, not wanting to see her expressions.

Azalea was gone before Ian finished his sentence. Nothing that Ian said made any sense whatsoever. Azalea’s face was a vermillion color causing her tears to resemble blood as they streamed down her face reflecting its intensely bright color. She was sprinting. To where? She had no idea except that she needed to get away from her worst nightmare. This wasn’t the way that it was supposed to be. Every story has a happy ending right? That’s how it was in every one she had ever read: the princess finds her prince charming and they get married and have their happily ever after. Azalea had based her entire life off of the belief that it would happen to her. Now, everything that Azalea had ever thought had just been proved wrong and the only thing that she had left were her flowers. However, even those seemed to have started to wilt as the morning progressed. Azalea cried even harder, her body shaking in tremors and for the first time in Azalea’s existence she felt empty. She had nothing left except for the amazing memories of her and Ian that were slowly being destroyed in her mind with his words. Then the realization came that her heart was fragile like glass and Ian had shattered it into a million pieces leaving no room for her to love anything ever again. Why did all of those fairytales lie? Azalea thought. Ian did not care about me at all or he wouldn’t have told me this! Azalea’s mind whispered as the last bit of her heart dissolved in the acid of Ian’s words.

Azalea slowed down enough to see her surroundings. She was back to where the souls lived. Maybe one of her friends could make her feel better. Anything would be better right now. She made her way into the kitchen to find Azryel sitting in a chair by the window. Azalea was still sobbing uncontrollably and could not even find her mouth, much less words. Suddenly, her body gave out and she collapsed on the floor unable to breathe. Her innocent mind went blank unable to process what had happened. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She forced her neck to move to look up through her tears at Azryel who seemed to be checking if she was okay.

In the corner of his brilliantly green eye, Ian caught a glimpse of Azalea’s broken expression when she flew by him at a surprisingly quick speed. At that sight, he surrendered himself to the terrible wrath of guilt. He had destroyed the poor girl’s feelings.

He glared at the happy setting around him, angry that it was still so bright and happy even though the one who probably thought of this beauty was crying her eyes out.

No…he wasn’t angry at the setting, he was angry with himself. Ian bit his lip thinking of ways he could have possibly made rejecting Azalea more gently. He should have just let her believe in her fantasy. No…That would have been even crueler than telling her his real feelings. It was already terrible because of how long he went without realizing her feelings.

He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. The others were going to kill him. “Shit…” he muttered under his breath.

How the hell was he going to face Azalea? Does she ever what to talk to him again? Or even look at him?

He sighed for an umpteenth time, before forcing his legs to move, back to where the souls lived. As Ian walked through the woods, it started to pour. Cold droplets soaked his hair and headband; they bounced off his prized leather jacket. Water dripped down his face, mirroring tears.

He wondered if his deformed eye could create tears.

Probably not.

Feeling soaked to the bone, Ian stumbled into a tree. He was numb. His emotions were missing. Where did they go? Did they finally ditch him after years of shoving them down so no one could see?

He started to chuckle. Hysterically actually. Ian dropped to his knees in the middle of the path towards the house and laughed. Why did this happen to someone as emotionally dysfunctional as him?

He hated himself for destroying the fragile girl’s heart. Human emotions are delicate things, but can tear themselves apart. Leaving cold shells of people, Ian hoped that she wouldn’t become a shell.

Just, why? Why did Fate have to be such a bitch?

He stopped laughing, feeling moisture fall from his normal eye that wasn’t water. Well…at least this morning wasn’t boring.

Ian finally stood up after an eternity and started walking again. He opened a plain door into the lovely kitchen, unfortunately for him, Azalea was there. He really did not want to face her just yet. Especially sense she’s crying.

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#, as written by Stilts

"Drip-pip-pip-ing... Drop... Plop.."

Drooping hazel eyes watched the fat raindrops slide down the window pane sluggishly. First one, then five... then more than he could count...

"This displeases me." Azryel muttered to himself, hands finally falling still atop his lap. He could no longer see past the meadow; the gray clouds that had appeared so suddenly dumping their torrent with zeal. Could no longer see... and thus the purpose of him sitting here prudently, in this particular spot, waiting- was reduced to moot. "All the colors blend together... It displeases me." Azryel's fists clenched, fingers digging into his palms. He hissed through clenched teeth, ".. Repeating."

"Hummm... I should move, yes? Oui. No purpose sitting here.." Perhaps sitting in the common room would be more pleasing. Ah- but wait- What was that?... Something moved within the gray haze? He slitted his eyes, peering through the rain-stained glass. Whoever it was ran in a strange manner... Were they injured? As the figure approached, he could make out a dress. A female. ..I suppose. She glanced around. Was she lost? No... The figure continued on it's frantic way towards the house. Towards the door he sat beside. My, my... What's this... Do I know you? Was it someone new? He always did hope they'd get visitors... They never did.
The door was flung open, a thin, drenched girl stumbling through.


Such Sobs. They echoed in his ears- Loud and wretched. Pulled from the shaking, tiny frame as if striving to break it in two.

She was Crying.
Azryel unfolded his hands. Folded them again. Unfolding them once more, for the last time, and placed them gingerly on the armrests to raise himself up. The girl raised her head- wide, frightened, molten eyes flashing against his own briefly. Ah. Azalea.. Little Azalea. The third soul. Of course it was a soul. Of course. It had been foolish to hope for a stranger.

Her chest was heaving.
The broken sounds... Crashed in waves against him. She was singing. Singing a song he knew.
This noise.. resonates in the song within me.

His eyes flicked lower to watch the girl's pale bosom work up and down under soaked garments as more shattering cries were wrenched from it. You tremble... Like a frightened little bird. Azryel's mouth opened slowly, as if to taste the despair that permitted the heavy air between them. Running his tongue against the backside of his teeth. Faintly, he wondered why she struggled. If it was so painful.. These intakes of breath... Why not just stop breathing?

What reason do you have to cry so, Azalea?

He watched as her legs buckled beneath her, as if the weight of her sorrow was too much to bear. She fell to her knees. Oh my. Azryel took half a step forward, with a utterance of concern. You look so sorry... So lost. Something surged through him, made his eyes slit ever so slightly before they returned to their expression of distress. A last chance for a first dace... "Azalea?" A sunrise that can't possibly exist-... He took another hesitant step towards her, the words rolling off his tongue deftly. Carefully, he bent and touched the shaking girl's shoulder. "Are you.. -Are you alright?"
Of course you are not.

Sweet, precious, darling Azalea. Never, never cried. Your sunshine, so easily overcast. I have a guess as to why. He had been observant. Not that it was hard to miss how she fawned over him. He knelt before her, twisting the lines on his forehead deeper in worry. "... Azalea.. What happened?" Yes. Sweet.. Precious... Darling. Azryel pulled the agitated girl against him, letting her sink into his chest, supporting her slouching body. Overwrought. It was as if all the energy had been drained from her wet, chilled flesh. This flesh.. felt nice in his arms. You.. shiver.

She was still sobbing, tears pooling against his shoulder and sinking into the material. Azryel's fingers stroked the back of her head in comfort, cooing softly in her ear. "Hush, little one." His fingers slipped through her soft locks and down her back. Up and down.. Up and down, as he whispered to her. "Shh, lovely one.. you are all wet..." Her tears soaked into his shoulder while he cradled her head. Still she cried. Ah, sparrow... Is it possible for you to feel more than this? To hurt more than you hurt now?.. I wonder. "Come, I will take you to get changed. Then you can tell me, if you wish." As he stood, he pulled the girl up with him, turning to look at the door as Ian walked in; the man glancing at Azalea and away just as fast.

Hn. I thought as much.

As Ian exited the kitchen, Azryel supported Azalea's limp form in the direction of their living quarters- finally picking up the shuffling girl when she had come dangerously close to stumbling into one of Ian's previously set trip wires. The duo made it to their room unscathed. Azryel set Azalea carefully to sit upon the floor and stood, retrieving a clean cotton dress from her bureau. He knelt once more before her; holding out the material, and slowly wiped away the fountain of tears that spilled out over her porcelain cheeks as best he could with his thumb. "Can you dress? Or do you need help?" Past his hushed tone, Azryel's face blushed slightly pink when he looked away from her, though his hand did not waver in offering her the dress. "I-.. I.. wish to help you Azalea.." He shook his head, furrowing his brows in pain. Hazel eyes met emerald green in ernest. "I hate to see you cry..."

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"I hat to see you cry..." Azryel said in a soft sweet voice. His eyes stared into Azalea's and she felt as if he understood everything without her even saying a word. After a few moments of staying frozen in that moment Azalea's was able to catch her breath for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

Azalea looked down at her soaked clothes and shivering body then at the soft cotton dress that Azryel held out for her and she smiled the best that she could; however, it looked more like a pucker than anything. "Th-th-thank y-you. I-I c-can d-d-dress on m-my ow-own," Azalea was shaking so much she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or if her body had just broken down after he had broken her. It was probably both. Trying to steady her voice she added, "I'll m-meet you in th-the common r-room." Azryel nodded still looking concerned and then left Azalea to change.

It felt so miraculous to get out of her drenched clothes. Azalea observed them in distaste. She never wanted to see this dress again. Everything about it had his words written all over it. Azalea threw it as far as she could across the room because she knew if she looked at it any longer she would surely break down again. She pulled the cotton dress on fairly easily but tying it in the back was another story. Her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't get them to do the right things. After several tries, Azalea finally pulled a small bow through securing her dress in place. She took a few minutes to try to comb some of the knots out of her hair but it didn't do a lot of good. Azalea gave up and shakily managed to make her way to the common room.

Azryel was sitting on the larger sofa waiting for her. He seemed to be in deep thought. Azalea collapsed right next to him so that they were almost touching. Azalea turned to him and it all came spilling out like an avalanche of events. "Today was supposed to be the day that he would love me! I brought him a purple orchid! I went running with him! I told him how I felt multiple times! He just rejcted me and said a bunch of things that didn't make any sense! He-he never cared about me at all." Azalea choked out, her voice cracking. She needed to forget about this and burry it deep, deep down. She had never been any degree of upset before and she hated it. She wanted it all to go away. Looking into Azryel's pools of hazel she said, "I was so lucky to find you today, Azryel. You care about me right?" Without giving him time to respond she continued, "Of course you do that is why you comforted me. He would've never done that. You're like a poinsettia blossom. They bloom in the winter when almost nothing else can! Thank you so much! You're wonderful!"

Azalea smiled a small smile at the end of her babbling. He might not care, but Azryel did...

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Mara smiled at Unmei. The pink haired girl was going to be an interesting friend. Apparently Unmei already considered her a friend, and she was obviously very nice, and she was interesting in a way most people weren't, it gave Mara hope that the girl could possible be friends with the other souls as well, especially Azalea, Azalea was so sweet, she could use a friend like Unmei.

“Could you show me where Mandarin class is? Then you could get a pass and won’t have to get detention!” Unmei interrupted Mara's train of thoughts with the question.

Mara replied, "Yeah, I'll show you to Mandarin, maybe the pass from Mrs. Lǎoyīng would help."

Maybe the pass would, and maybe it wouldn't. Mrs. Penoly had a special dislike for Mara because of something Mara was sure Ian had done. No matter, Mara had to show Unmei to her class. Grabbin Unmei's hand Mara started to drag her out of the classroom with her. She looked over her shoulder as she left giving a small shout of goodbye to everyone. Looking at Unmei she began to talk excitedly about the school, people in it, which teachers were awesome, her friends, people she thought Unmei would like. Mara giggled and bounced as she walked dragging Unmei along with her.

All the while Mara felt like warning Unmei about the fact that some days she would act differently than today, but Mara didn't want to scare Unmei off. She felt a little guilty about not warning Unmei though, it was like she was Unmei on and then just shoving her out to deal with whatever came the next day. Mara had lost friends because of how she changed daily and she really hoped Unmei wouldn't be one of those that ran off when Mara wasn't the same person everyday.

Mara stopped herself from thinking, and just continued to blurt out the lowdown on everyone in the school to Unmei.

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Ian left the kitchen, leaving the two souls alone together. He didn't want to be around people anymore. Nope. Walking through the hallway, away from Azalea and Azryel, he headed towards his sanctuary. Water droplets flung themselves off of his unnaturally cold body towards the plush carpet or blank walls. Every time the bottom of his boots pressed down into this carpet a damp print etched itself into the neutral-colored floor. When he finally arrived in front of the door, Ian stared at it blankly, forgetting why he was going into his room for a moment. He shook his head trying to remember what he needed to do for the day. In this action, Ian's bandanna loosened its feeble grip around his forehead even more. More strands of hair were slipping from its grasp, flowing down over his sharply chiseled face.

A dull ache pounded in his head, the headache had started when Azalea ran away crying, but Ian hadn't noticed until now. Surprisingly, his body was fatigued and mind was already shutting itself down for sleep. Ian instinctively knew that he needed his large, plush bed and avoid collapsing in the hall. But he didn't seem to have enough energy to turn the knob of the vivid red painted door. The brightness hurt his lone eye.

He opened his door, carefully avoiding the clear wire that was placed a few inches from the threshold. Ian blinked, or winked, or whatever this has been gone over, when he realized that no one had ever seen his room without being drenched, covered in something, or, at least, thoroughly annoyed. Huh, Ian was actually a really closed off person, not letting anyone see his room, or most of his emotions, or most of his thoughts. But no one ever noticed because of how easy going and playful he acted. It was a sad thought, but there wasn't anything to do about it. It wasn't like he could change his habits with a snap of a finger. Nor did Ian want to change, it wasn't like his life was miserable.

Oh, wait. His wasn't, but Azalea's was. Oh the things that occur in such a short span of time.

Ian efficiently maneuvered his way to his welcoming bed, while he removed water laden clothing and kicked off his boots. He collapse onto the bed, similar to a bag being dropped to the ground. Unmoving and forgotten. He ripped off his brilliantly red headband and threw it into the depths of his trap filled room. Now Ian was lying on his messy bed only where a pair of boxers, he shivered, skin absorbing all of warmth it could find in the bed under his body. Ian rolled onto his stomach, kicking the sheets out from under him and pulled the linen threaded blankets over his rapidly warming body.

Again, the dull ache decided to make its presence known to him, but causing a sharp stabbing pain in the back of his head. Ian randomly thought that Azalea had found the courage and stabbing the back of his head as a form of revenge for not returning her feelings. It was a morbid thought, but humans did that sort of thing all the time. Ian has read about it over and over, each time he's opinion on the human race as a whole diminished a bit.

Ian forced himself to stop thinking about such morbid things and snuggled deeper into the mattress. He sighed in content, happy with the warm bubble that surrounded him. His long limbs scrawled out, taking up as much room on the bed as possible. One arm was under a pillow while the other laid by his side. His body was at an angle so his legs could stretch out in opposite sides comfortable.

Suddenly, he remembered that his eye-patch still covered his deformed eye, tugging it off. Ian flung the disgusting material across the room to accompany his bandanna. Blinking both eyes, he winced slightly at how normal his right eye felt. Even though the skin around it was rugged and deep red, the eyeball was completely white, as if when he was being formed someone forgot to give him a pupil. This meant that Ian was completely blind in his right eye, even when he took over the body he sometimes had a tough time using the right eye.

Ian let his eyes slide close and waited patiently for sleep to dig its tendrils into his conscious mind. Unfortunately, his mind was more awake than it was a few minutes ago and started wandering off onto a random train of thoughts. He thought about the meaning of life, about whether or not he should bother going to school, about things as random as what was the strangest supernatural creature. Ian personally thought that aliens were the strongest with their superior intellect and "awesomely tech-filled laser gadgets". In the middle of this flow of thinking, sleep had taken over his body and mind.

He wasn't going to remember when exactly he fell asleep or what he was thinking about, but Ian was going to be refreshed whenever he was going to wake up. Hopefully.