THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

You were one of the first people to arrive in the piano room - probably because your form room had been so close by. The room was empty when you walked in, so you just made your way to the back of the room, sitting down at one of the pianos near the window. There were no desks in the room besides for the teacher, only keyboards lined up in rows facing the front of the room. You set your books down under the piano, not knowing where else to put them, and sat down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt in your hands as you waited. You would have much preferred for at least the teacher to be in the room - sitting by yourself was not really what you wanted to be doing. You turned your attention to the window in the room, absently watching a couple of songbirds dart in an out of a small shrub while you waited. Hopefully someone else would get here soon and it wouldn't be so stiflingly silent- "Oh. Hello." Your head snapped back to the front of the room to see a boy standing there, hovering awkwardly just inside the door. He was rather short, and his arms wrapped around his books in a hug. You wouldn't have noticed him in the hallway if you had passed him - his height combined with brown hair and brown eyes made him the sort of person that would just blend in to a crowd. He didn't look particularly mean though, so you just tried for a smile. "That's my seat." He said, still hovering by the door.

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.

"𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎." Angie always kept herself busy with new things, trying to widen her horizons and learn new things, while Technoblade is comfortable living his simple and orderly life. They both had incredible minds, but used them in the complete opposite ways. If they hadn't met on that one fateful day then they would have been fine with that fact, but love can really open people's eyes. I've been #1 in wilbur, discord, stream, blade, hypixel, and techno if that means anything (art used on cover belongs to @EtceteraArt on twitter, cover art is by bloodygloss) FINISHED FEB 7 2021

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.