Character Development in the ??? Direction // Open

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funny to think  about the difference from t h e n versus n o w Easter. That mortal holiday that Edmund didn't really remember much about. He remembered running around his backyard, competing with Meg on who could find the most eggs. The eggs would have chocolate and other pieces of candy in them. They'd die eatable eggs. It always got so messy... The memories rushed by Ed's vision in a slam of blurred colors, sounds, and muted emotions. He used to not remember what they looked or sounded like... the mist in the Ruins had fixed that. Whether that was good or bad though, he couldn't determine. All he knew now was that he didn't like sweets or chocolate and he felt way too old to run around New Rome for an egg hunt. So, he had decided to get candy for people who actually liked candy (meaning Felicity, Rhia, Josh, Ethan, Ronan, and Nova), leave it at their doorsteps, forge desk, or places in the house, and then carry on with his day like it was any other: forge and fighting. Or at least... trying to do so... just, today was just... bleh. He didn't physically feel like he could get up and do either. On days like these, every once in a while, Ed would shut himself down and revert back to aimlessly walking around New Rome for a couple of hours. Healthy? Maybe….? But sometimes it was better than facing a full out immersive forge or fighting experience. He was getting better. Slowly, but surely, one step at a time; his flinches were diminishing, his fighting prowess was coming back, and he had pretty much gone back to speaking normally. At least, around the core people he talked around (meaning Felicity, Josh, Rhia, and Ethan). Talking to them almost made him feel better... like, he could partially forget his worries and be able to crack a small smile or joke around. Then again, he knew better... Edmund would probably never be 100% alright. No, that ship had sailed long ago. Years and years of emotional repression and just “not thinking about it” did a lot of damage in the long run. Even though his mind did block out chunks of time from various situations, those moments he did remember… he almost convinced himself that he couldn’t remember… so he wouldn’t. If that made any sense at all. Now that definitely wasn’t healthy. In trying to figure out the little sense he made, he didn't even realize that his feet were taking him towards a place he almost never ventured, just because of the nature of the place: Temple Hill. Still, he walked, aimlessly and with no intention whatsoever, just lost in his thoughts. COMMENTARIUM: I'm not dead I swear ._. VERBA: 445

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Ronan had been busy lately. He had been doing a couple of things that had brought him back to the days of cowering in fear of bullies back in the orphanage. His hands had been working hard over what he was doing, and he had left plenty of them all around camp. Ronan had been creating these little things called pisanky eggs. Gingerly crafted from egg shells using die and wax. It took a steady hand to create, but after making about eighteen of the delicate eggs that decorated a couple of offices, but he had taken to making them out of wood. He had crafted a couple of them specially for the gods. Patterns and designs that were special to him. There were even some left for a few of his friends in places that he was sure they would find them. One for Josh, Rhiannon and little Art. There was some for both Remus and Jason, though he really didn't know if either would care for them. One for Chris, brilliant in colors that would have fetched such a high price from people who craved those hand crafted sort of things. he never quite understood how people could pay the money for such.

Carrying a small bag over his shoulder, he had left one of his eggs in his father's temple, and was heading over to his grandfathers. Ronan was never sure what exactly to do about neptune. The god was strange and frankly, he scared Ronan witless. But watching a smaller figure wander back and forth, it was his little brother Edmund. Though he knew Edmund would never claim anyone as actual family, Ronan still did what he could so Edmund could feel included. Even if he didn't want to be, the offer was still there. A standing offer to join him and Nova for hot chocolate or time spent out of the forge to help the little girl cope with the problems that she would deal with. "Edmund." He said in his deep voice, greeting his brother. Forge mate, coexister. Ronan reached around his back and pulled a large egg out of his bag. It was the size of an american football, but it had taken a whole four days to carve, sand, paint and dry. the black and purple and green colors were painted with a delicate brush and a steady hand. These things had meant alot to him. They were something special to him, something that took time and patience to craft. "Here." he said as he tossed the large wooden egg to his brother.

Edmund's egg

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I am f i n e (b r o k e n) Edmund didn’t celebrate holidays. If, perchance, he did celebrate a holiday, it was because Rhia or one of his quest family members dragged him into it. Overall, one couldn’t necessarily call him a celebratory guy. Giving little gifts for birthdays, flowers for Valentine’s, and chocolate for Easter was as far as he’d go. No banners or parties or… just nothing big. He still didn’t like mass amounts of people or people making big deals out of things. Hearing his name, Edmund did what any normal person would do, he turned his head in the general sound direction. In the second before he turned, his mind shot through a list of possible people. It took actually seeing Ronan to make his brain match voice to name to face. Gods what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he focus? Why couldn't he do something as simple as get a person's name as soon as he heard their voice? Ronan. Ronan Redpath, co-forge inhabiter. Did Ed claim people as family? Yes. In his head. Not that he’d ever admit to it or say it. No, he’d keep rolling his eyes, sassing, and calling them idiots. An unorthodox route of tough affection, but that was him, and he’d most likely stay that way. However, he did have a slight awareness that he had simmered down a bit since the quest (gods, that seemed so long ago). His mouth twitched slightly as his dark brown eyes wandered over the egg. Redpath had done a pretty handsome job on it. It did look rather nice. “Thanks,” he said softly, rolling the egg slightly in his hand so he could examine it some more. Where to put this in the room? A room full of stuff that people had given to him… That was the definition of his room: forging stuff and presents. He (still) seriously didn’t understand people sometimes. Most people would realize that other people weren’t any good to be around, that they didn’t really help, only hurt. Turned out that most of the people in the Legion weren’t “most people”. No matter what Ed did, they wouldn’t shove off. Not when he was a mean person. Not when he didn’t associate himself with the other forge members. Not even after he turned into a camp traitor. These stupid, stubborn demigods. They'd given him everything. And he had given them... nothing. Probably just a headache and heartbreak. Stupid, disappointment of a demigod.... "There're giantchocolate bunnies f'youn' Nova... in the forge fridge." COMMENTARIUM: I'm so sorry about this wait x_x School's just been killing my muse VERBA: 420-ish