OCFancyOriginals belong here
OCFancy
This a character named Two, he’s a personified version of the real world PlayStation 2. Race doesn’t really exist in this universe, but he’s implied to be Black American. He’s warm, naturally funny, varsity football captain, most popular guy in school, can easily roast anybody, and super strong. I had GPT make a concept for […]
This a character named One, he’s a personified version of the real world PlayStation 1. He loves old school hip-hop, is super smooth and persuasive, and is a super popular guy at school. I had GPT make a concept for what he could look like. Right now, I’m actually brainstorming and building a whole world […]
Buys ash-wax by the barrel and turns it into candles that never quite lose the smell of smoke — people buy them anyway. Keeps a ledger of everyone who owes her, and everyone in Cinder Hollow owes her something eventually.
Picks through what the ash yards throw out, looking for anything worth trading. Shows up wherever there’s a fire going and never explains how he heard about it. Iris lets him work the edges of her crew’s territory because he’s never once stolen from her — everyone else is fair game.
Doesn’t belong to any particular world — shows up wherever there’s a working streetlamp and something worth arguing about. Has opinions on everything and commits to none of them for more than a week.
Started on Iris’s crew three months ago and still hasn’t gotten used to the smell of smoke. Overeager, asks too many questions, and is quietly convinced the heartwood is trying to tell them something.
Passes through Cinder Hollow twice a year buying ash-cured timber to sell downriver. Knows Iris well enough to argue prices with her without either of them getting mad about it. Keeps meaning to stop coming back.
Drowned when the sea was still a sea. Nobody’s sure how she keeps cataloguing books centuries later, and she’s stopped explaining it to new arrivals. Knows the shelves better than she knows her own name.
Runs the logging crews that keep Cinder Hollow’s ash yards clear. She’s the only forewoman who’s never once complained about the smoke, which everyone finds a little unsettling. Doesn’t talk about why she stays.
Vex slips between shadows at the edge of the night market, trading secrets for stolen moonlight. No one quite remembers when she first appeared — only that the stalls she visits always do better business afterward.