Author Archive: eternalferret

I'm a gamer, do some writing and am a... well... decent artist. I'm going to try to draw all of my characters, but at the very least I'm going to write about each of them. One of my favorite parts of writing or gaming is creating a character and the more full the backstory is the better. I think this challenge is an amazing way to push myself to flesh out better characters. Who knows, maybe they'll come in handy someday.

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#3 Thomas Finn

| November 3, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Thomas Finn

Age: 34

Birth date: June 5, 1975

Occupation: FBI agent

PB: Mark Wahlberg


The first thing you need to know about Thomas is that he never wanted to be an FBI agent. He was never interested in police work or the greater good or anything like that. He wanted to be something unobtrusive, like a middle school science teacher or an accountant. But when all the men in your family…and some of the women… work for the FBI? Well, you don’t have much of a choice.

At first his family was thrilled that he had decided to follow in the tradition, after all. That enthusiasm didn’t last very long. No matter where they assigned him he never seemed to fit. He was constantly losing files, misidentifying marks, deleting recordings and don’t even ask about his record with a firearm. They’d have dismissed him years ago, if not for his family history. His only saving grace was that he hadn’t done anything that had completely ruined a case or gotten anyone killed. He was, simply, just a major inconvenience for everyone else.

Due to a lack of options, he was given an undercover assignment with strict instructions to keep his mouth shut and not do anything. True to form, he blew his cover. However, he was so absolutely inept that the group he was in with thought he was joking around and carried on as if nothing had happened. His superiors were baffled. They’d finally found something he couldn’t screw up. He became their newest star undercover agent, whether he liked it or not. He still blew his cover occasionally, but he somehow managed to keep it together long enough to get the information they needed.

As far as his home life goes? Well, it doesn’t.  He moved out of his parent’s house when he was 18, getting his own small apartment. He was engaged once to a lovely girl named Felicia. Two months away from the wedding, though, she decided she’d had enough of him losing these, dropping this, forgetting that. She left and he hasn’t really had much luck, since.

The one thing he’s found that he can do without breaking or losing anything is building models. He started with model kits, but he’s since escalated to building scale models of buildings, bridges and monuments from scratch. He gives many away as gifts, but his favorites are scattered around his apartment. The reason (that he has yet to discover) is that it’s something he loves. It’s something HE wants to do. When he’s in the field or planning a wedding  he’s doing what someone else’s told him he needs to do and his heart isn’t in it so his attention wanders.  He’s gotten better with undercover work since he does enjoy pretending to be someone else for a while, but he still wishes he were somewhere else.

His current assignment is infiltrating a group of antiquities smugglers. Over the course of his investigation he’s witnessed a few unexplainable things. He wouldn’t exactly call them supernatural or magic (that’s just crazy, right?) but he’ll be damned if he has any idea what he saw. It has, however, gotten him curious. For the first time since he started working undercover he’s actually interested in a case. Could it be that this will be the first time he makes it all the way through a case without screwing anything up? Might he actually make some discovery that will change everything? If he does he’ll probably be the last to know.



**his first undercover assignment**


Finn shifted uneasily from one foot to the next under the scrutiny of the larger man. “I’m the guy that Vinnie sent you.”

“You said that, already.” He deadpanned, “You don’t look like no car thief.”

Smoothing his hands down the sides of his jeans to wipe the sweat off his palms, Finn cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, you don’t look like the head of a gang so I guess we’re even.” That sounded wimpy even to him. This was never going to work.

The man looked at him a minute before bursting out laughing. “You got a hell of a pair on ya, I’ll give ya that. A’ite. Come on back.”

Finn let out a sigh of relief and smiled as he followed. So far, so good. Now he only had to maintain his cover until the guys could get enough video from the button cam and he was golden. He looked around as he walked, “n-nice place you’ve got, here.”

“Thanks, man. I been collectin’ all this shit for a while, now. Don’t look like I’ll be goin’ nowhere anytime soon so I’m takin’ my time.”

“It shows. I especially like this one.” He gestured to a sculpture they were walking past. “It reminds me of one I saw in the National Gallery in DC…” His eyes got wide as he realized what he just said. Shit. He stammered, “Y-Y-You know, when I went there on that stupid school trip way back when. Did you ever go on that one? You know, when they drag everyone to DC just to look at the statues and the constitution and they think that it’ll make all the kids appreciate the country and how it was founded and all thaaaaa-oh no.” He froze, staring at the gun that was now pointed at his head.

“You a fed.”

“No. No, I’m-“

“You a motha-fuckin’ fed! I oughtta put one in your head right now.”

His words came out in a torrent as he waved his hands between them, “No. Nonononono you’ve got it all wrong. You see, I just went to DC on that class trip, I’m not a fed. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong so please just put the gun away, please.”

“Oh, yeah, like I’m gonna believe that.” He laughed and waved the gun. “Let’s go.”

Finn knew he was out of options. He knew he had to act tough and stand up to this guy, not be the sniveling wimp as he was currently doing a very job of imitating. The boss’ head was turned, this was his chance. Without another thought he reached behind his back for his gun, pulling it out… and promptly losing his grip, sending it skittering across the floor.

The boss looked at the gun, then looked at him. “What the fuck was that?” He fought to keep the corners of his lips from turning as the thugs around him cracked up.

“I…” he sighed, shrugging helplessly and resigning himself to his fate.

“You?” The boss laughed, letting the gun fall to his side. “aww, hell, you ain’t no fed. Vinnie said you was new, he didn’t say you was an idiot. I jus’ hope you steal cars better’n you handle a gun.” He holstered his gun and walked off.

Finn opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Well that could’ve gone better… at least the hardest part was over. He hoped.

#2 Y’shmeen Farana

| November 3, 2011 | 0 Comments


Name: Y’shmeen Farana

Age: 862

Race: Elf

Class: Ranger

PB: Tilda Swinton

Y’shmeen was born into a war zone. The clans of Ata’an were at war, and had been for hundreds of years. The Compraas and the F’tali were fighting for control of the continent and Y’shmeen’s clan, the Dunan, were fighting just to stay alive. Trapped between the two clans, they were forced into the forest to avoid the bloodshed. It was either that or choose a side, something the Elders swore they would never do. The Dunan were shaman, healers, they cared not for power or destruction. They wanted to preserve the way life had been before one of the F’tali discovered a vein of precious gems underground and began lusting after wealth. Thus was the birth of greed and pride on their peaceful planet.

As is usually the case, pride goeth before the fall. The Compras decided the F’tali had too much and thought too highly of themselves. They refused to be ruled by greed and placated by gems. They began the war that would soon overshadow any other conflicts in their history.

Y’shmeen was raised in the forests of Abasor, listening to the stories of the way before. She knew that she alone could not stop the war, but she could at least keep her people safe.

She quickly discovered an affinity for animals, almost as if they could understand her. She took to wandering away from the village for days at a time, learning her way around the forest. She fell in love with the trees and it wasn’t long before she learned the power that lay within.

Centuries later, she’s considered the protector of the forest. The Elders have asked her numerous times to join them, become a leader in their clan. She’s turned them down each time, deciding instead to remain at the edges of their boundaries, maintaining wards and providing a safe haven for animals trying to escape the devastation.

She learned to perform some amount of natural magic, but she didn’t rely on it. Instead, she honed her senses and skills with bow and staff. She used her knowledge to train the children of the clan how to hunt and defend themselves. They were a peaceful clan, but that was no reason why they shouldn’t learn.

She was content to live this way. Separate from most, protecting her home. However, her world was about to be turned upside down.


“How can you stand it? Sitting here, watching the smoke of war.”

“Would you rather the smoke be your own home burning? If I can hide us, younger brother, I must do so. This is not our fight.” Y’shmeen fixed him with a stare. She knew he was part of the growing group within the clan who wanted to join the fight. He was young and impulsive; he did not yet know the way of things.

He threw a stick, watching the dogs chase it and fight for control of their new toy. “Maybe it should be. Are we to spend the rest of our days cowering in the trees like frightened children?”

“Rowan!” She scolded, “this is not fear. It is simply not our war. What purpose do we have to join the fighting? Which clan would we join with? Or would you have us fight both of them?”

“So your solution is to wait here until one clan destroys the other? What if they come for us, next?”

Y’shmeen’s voice dropped and her gaze turned to the horizon, watching the smoke rise. “Then it will be our fight.”

Rowan sighed, “the smoke grows closer every year. It’s only a matter of time before it is at our door.” He stood and strode back into the forest, leaving Y’shmeen alone with her thoughts.

He was right. It was only a matter of time before the battle shifted in their direction, and what then? They didn’t have the means to fight an army. But that was that was years away, yet. She settled more comfortably against the tree she was sitting against and closed her eyes.

A few hours later she was awoken by movement in the forest. She didn’t move, keeping still and listening. They were light on their feet, but unfamiliar with their surroundings. They were still a distance away so she took the chance to rise into a crouch and look around before leaping up and deftly climbing the tree. She hid among the large leaves, leaning out to try to spot the newcomers. She fought to keep her breathing under control when she saw the colors of the F’tali clan. Scouts.

“This is a perfect route. We’ll avoid the mountains entirely and get behind the Compras forces.”

“And look at this forest. We won’t want for food and water.”

The taller of the two looked around, “Do you think anyone lives in these woods?”

“Here?” He scoffed, “If they do, they’re likely savages, nothing we’ll have to worry about.”

The pair laughed and continued on their way, joking about the savages they imagined lived there.

When she was certain they were well beyond earshot she dropped out of the tree, staring in the direction they’d come from. This changed everything. She turned and raced through the trees to warn the others.

#1 Edmund Carmine

| November 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Edmund James Carmine (However, he only ever goes by Ed or Carmine… mostly Carmine since students stopped calling him “Mr.” a year in.)
Age: 56
Birthdate: 10/23/11
Occupation: High School Art and Drama Teacher.
PB: Weird Al

From a young age, Carmine knew he would be an actor. He would spend hours alone in his room performing one man shows for his G.I. Joes and stealing his sister’s Barbies to play damsel in distress to his gallant hero.

His parents were concerned.

They knew that this scrawny, curly haired Jewish boy had about as much of a chance of becoming a star as Woody Allen had of being cast as the tall dark and handsome hero. As much as they wanted to encourage the boy, they didn’t want to watch him get his hopes crushed by Hollywood. Little did they know that this boy would, indeed, follow his dream… though it wouldn’t turn out exactly the way he’d hoped.

At the insistence of his mother, Carmine went to college. Much to her dismay, however, it was in California and he majored in acting. He did take a few teaching classes to appease her, but he was dedicated to following his passion. All of his teachers and classmates were behind him, watching as he went to audition after audition after audition with no luck. He was starting to lose hope when he finally caught a break. He was cast in a big Hollywood movie as George Clooney’s brother in law. He was only in one scene and he only had a few lines (one of which was “pass the mashed potatoes”) but he didn’t care. He was up on the big screen for all to see. The memories of that day are his most treasured. No matter where he went from that day on his picture of himself with George Clooney always went with him.

He continued going to auditions with renewed enthusiasm after that but he was never able to quite make it. He did a short film here and there and was in the background in a number of films. He even got to play a dead body on Law and Order, once. However as the years passed and he started to age, the opportunities became few and far between. He was down to doing commercials about erectile dysfunction and infomercials for products people don’t want. He was offered a starring roll for a TV show, but it was never picked up by the network. Though, in hindsight, Desperately Seeking Stephen wasn’t really the best idea out there.

Somewhere along the line he’d moved back home to Connecticut. He had his own little apartment in Darby, one town over from where his parents lived. He was still making periodic trips to New York City for auditions and the occasional play, but his big break still remained slightly out of reach. His mother, a substitute teacher, told him that the High School in Aviario was looking for a new art teacher. He wasn’t too thrilled with the idea. He wasn’t as enthusiastic about drawing or sculpture as he was about acting, after all. But his mother gave him that look that she always does. The one he can never say no to. No matter what she’s asking him to do.

So, at 35, he became the newest staff member of Aviario High School. His off beat methods (and tendency to wear Hawaiian shirts and sandals in the dead of winter) made him a fast favorite among the student body. He soon discovered his love of teaching and a knack for inspiring creativity in young minds. It wasn’t long before he took over directing the school plays, pushing students to take on more challenging roles. For a while he still tried to make auditions, hoping for his big break. However, he slowly stopped scheduling them, throwing himself whole heartedly into what he now considered the role of a lifetime.

During the summer he acts in local productions, Shakespeare in the park and the like. He’s also discovered, quite by accident, a love for writing and making music.

He’s been teaching for 20 years now, and has no plans of stopping any time soon. For the past 15 years or so he’s been playing local clubs with teachers and former students. They mostly do parodies, covers and random medleys. They’re not very well received by everyone, but he doesn’t care. He’s doing what he loves and, ultimately, that’s all that matters.

***A short ficlet of the class that inspired him to start writing music***

“No, no, no. I refuse to believe that you can make a collage out of everything! What about acting? What about music?”

Carmine rolled his eyes and waved an arm at the teenage girl currently giving him attitude, “What? Oh c’mooon, you don’t think the parodies on Saturday Night Live aren’t collages? What about that sketch with all the superheroes having a party?”

Glad to see this ‘discussion’ was getting her out of having to do any actual work, she pressed on. “Alright, fine. But what about music?”

“Music, huh?” He glanced around the room at all the faces staring at him, waiting for his brilliant response. He honestly didn’t have much experience with music. He’d taken one guitar class in college and didn’t do too badly, but he hadn’t really picked it up since. But that’s never stopped him, before. He grinned confidently, “I’ll make you guys a deal. I’ll put together a musical collage out of songs you pick and if you guys don’t like it you all get bonus points on your final project.”

The kids cheered and immediately started shouting song titles his way. The remainder of the class was spent writing the song titles on the board and voting on which ones he had to use. After the bell he stood there for a moment, staring at the board. It was a daunting task, to be sure, but he was confident he could make it work.

2011 Challenger: Laurel

| November 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

Bit of a delayed introduction here, but, HEY!

I’m Laurel, this is my first year attempting the 30 Characters Challenge. I’m not really an artist, but I’m attempting to push myself to create richer back stories for original characters. My plan is to write out their history and personality, as it were, and at least a short ficlet if not a full story about/including them. If I’m feeling especially motivated, or inspired… or have the time… I might draw something for them, but that’s not going to be my goal. At the very least I’ll be picking PBs or write descriptions if they’re not entirely human.

Concrit always welcome!