Novel Good Demon's War

Discussion in 'Community Fictions' started by AnoeticDuckling, Oct 6, 2017.

  1. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    Hello, I'm writing a story called Good Demon's War, you can also read it here on RRL

    Synopsis: Setia is a demon in a world at war. Persecution and death are as prevalent as currency. A meeting with god has left Setia with the knowledge that everything is finite, everything ends, but this war makes it seem as if the world would end first. With nothing but the will to not waste a single second, Setia sets off to bring peace to the world.

    Easier said than done.

    Genre & Tags: Action, Drama, Fantasy, Tragedy, Magic, Non-Human lead, Reincarnation

    Table of Contents:
    1. Chapter One - The End of the Universe
    2. Chapter Two - Friends and One Word Conversations
    3. Chapter Three - A Priest and Two Imps Walk into a Bar
     
    Last edited: Oct 6, 2017
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  2. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    Chapter One - The End of the Universe

    “Where am I?” a voice questions. There exists only blank space all around, no shadows nor light, just emptiness. An infinite amount of emptiness. The voice stretches itself around the space, feeling nothing. There was no sense of weightlessness, nor the feeling of being grounded. There was no hot nor cold. There was nothing. Almost as if the voice was suspended in water.

    “You are where the universe ends.”

    Startled, the voice turns, finding a figure standing in the emptiness. The figure has a thousand eyes and mouths, but never more than a human would have at any one time. “What is a universe?”

    “It is the home to all things.” The figure’s voice changes as its mouths do, each voice fitting the lips it talks through.

    “What is a home?”

    “Oh dear.” The figure frowns, tilting its head to appraise the voice. “It seems a number has been done on you.” The figure walks in a circle, a circle that the voice can only assume is around it.

    “What is a done?”

    A sigh escapes ever changing lips. “There is much you do not know, I understand, but I don’t have the will nor the want to teach you myself.”

    Silence stretches between the two.

    “Looks like it would be quicker to bring you peace.”

    The voice feels something hot welling up, there is nothing to prove the feeling though. “Will you bring me to an end as well? Just like the universe?”

    The figure opens a mouth to speak, but closes it by the time the lips change. It tries again. “You’re a fast learner. Perhaps there is some worth in you.”

    “What is a worth?”

    “It is the value someone places in something else.”

    The voice ponders, with what, it does not know. “You place value in me?”

    “Yes.”

    The voice stretches itself again, feeling the limits of itself tingle. It cannot place the feeling, if it even exists. “What is a value?”

    “On second thought, never mind.” The figure shakes its head, lips curling into a frown. It throws its shoulders up into a shrug.

    There’s a chill now, traveling up all the voice can understand. “Learn. I want to learn.”

    “So you understand what it means to want?” The figure doesn’t look shocked. “I suppose that can’t be helped, everything does. It’s the only concept imbued into all things. The moment they are alive, they want.”

    “What is alive?”

    “It means to be living, to have the spark of life.”

    “Am I alive?”

    The figure purses its lips, eyes avoiding the voice. “A better question would be if you’re dead.”

    “What is a dead?”

    “Right. Well, moving on. You could serve as a companion for only a couple more minutes before I’d want to kill you, but that would be a shame. It’s not often I find a child like you all the way out here.”

    “At the end?”

    “Yes, the end.”

    “How did I get here?”

    “I don’t know, there’s lots of ways I suppose. I don’t know particulars, never concerned myself with them. I just send those that get here, well, back I assume.” The figure looks out into the emptiness, “I don’t really concern myself with the particulars of that either.”

    “What is blatant disregard?”

    “Excuse me?”

    “Yes?”

    The figure is still for a moment, then bursts into laughter. It’s a odd sound that quickly transforms from firm and powerful, to nasally and gasping, to cute and concise. “I see, not everything is lost, but the things you’ve retained seem rather arbitrary, random at best.”

    “What is a random?”

    “Means no meaning or order.”

    “What is a order?”

    “Means, in this case, the arrangement of something.”

    “What is-”

    “Right, that’s enough, I’m not doing this anymore.” The figure looks back into the emptiness then back at the voice. “Would you like to end?”

    “Is there nothing else but the end?”

    “There are other options, but they will all result in the end.” The voice clasps its hands, a thousand shades whirling past. “But the choice is whether you would like to experience it now or later.” There’s something sorrowful in the myriad of eyes the figure wears.

    “What is the end?”

    “It is death.”

    “What is death?”

    “It is the opposite of life, the finale of all living things.”

    “I do not want to end.” The voice wants to leave, like something in it wants to deal with the possibility of ending later. But that is silly, as the voice is only a voice. “I do not want to end,” it repeats.

    “I know.”

    “Then, to not end, I should just live forever?”

    “There’s no forever for anything. Not life, not death, not me.” The figure looks at the voice, “There is no forever, my child.”

    “Then what is there?”

    “There is only moments, a collection of them. There are seconds and minutes and hours, days and weeks and months, but there is no forever.” The figure walks away from the voice, something in its throat surely, as it coughs as if to clear it. “I can only give time to those that know it will not last,” it says, turning back to the voice.

    “If it does not last, what is to be done with it?”

    “It is to be treasured and used to the utmost. It is to be despised and wasted. It is whatever you want it to be, as long as you understand it is not infinite.”

    “I understand.”

    “Do you?” The figure’s voices are bitter.

    “I think so.”

    “But you know almost nothing.”

    “Maybe that’s why I understand.” The voice stretches itself again, feeling the sensation of warmth. “I want to try that life thing.”

    The figure nods, “I will send you on your way then, but not without some more wisdom, otherwise conversation will be impossible.”

    A million scenes pass the voice’s vision, a million memories they cannot connect. It seems as if they belong to every living thing. The voices and faces change just as often as the mood of the memories. Knowledge flowed through the memories, words now defined through experience, ideas and concepts brought to light by the very makers of them. This was what the figure spoke about, the so much the voice did not know.

    Then, as quickly as the images appeared, they disappeared, leaving only the emptiness behind. “I understand how much I did not know now.”

    “Isn’t that the brilliance of knowledge? When you have none, you do not realize how much you lack, when you have plenty, you realize how much you’re still missing.” The figure looks at the voice. “I suppose I should tell you now, I won’t mediate on your behalf in any situation. You will have no help from me. Your accomplishments will be your own, just as your failures will be as well.”

    “Hands off parenting.”

    The figure pauses, lips pursed, “I suppose you could put it like that.”

    “Is there a better word?”

    “I’m sure there is. Anyway, I’ve imparted on you knowledge, the concepts that you’ve forgotten. Or perhaps never knew.”

    The voice stretches itself, “Will you send me away now? Where will I go?”

    “I don’t know, I don’t, for all my power, have pinpoint accuracy. You’ll go where you’re pulled to, I’m sure.”

    “Will I be needed there?”

    “I do not know.”

    “What do you know?”

    The figure turns, walking around for a while, fingers on its chin, thinking. “That’s a good question actually. Everything I know is avaliable for all living things to find, it’s just out of reach for most. But the knowledge and information is there, plain to see to those that seek it.”

    The voice thinks for a moment as well, “What about fate? Destiny?”

    “I have no hand in that. I just watch over everything, send those that reach here away, and make sure the balance is kept. That is all.”

    “Perhaps-”

    The figure interrupts, “I suppose you could say I do know the name of every living thing, I know their thoughts and their feelings. But even that isn’t that odd, any person could do the same given enough time.”

    “You know my name?”

    A silence stretches between the two, then the figure finally clears it with a whisper. “I do not know.”

    “Why?”

    “I assume it’s because, how to put this nicely? You’re not alive?”

    “But-”

    “I know, don’t ask, I don’t know the answer to that either. I do not know your name, your thoughts, nor your feelings. That’s why I didn’t notice you for a while when you first got here, not until you spoke.”

    “But I have thoughts, I feel things.”

    The figure shrugs, “Like I’ve said, I do not know.”

    The voice realizes the words are not an excuse not to tell nor a lie. The edges of the voice feels hot, like needles are pricking into it. It does not know how it feels, but surely this was emotion. What a terrible thing it was.

    “I apologize.”

    “Rather than an apology, I want a name.”

    “Excuse me?”

    The voice hardens something it sure was resolve, “I want a name. If every living thing has one, I want one too.”

    The figure stares for a moment, perhaps seeing the voice in a new light. It chuckles, nodding, “With that attitude, it’s hard to suspect you aren’t alive in the first place. I will grant you a name.”

    “Thank you.”

    “No, thank you Setia, and good luck.”

    Eyes open, finding everything. There is no emptiness here. Tiny hands stretch forward, ready to touch and grab anything they came across. The voice understood then, this was having a body. This was the ability to live. A smile cracked the stone face.

    The voice stood, two wobbling legs cementing themselves in confidence as minutes passed without a fall. An unsteady step made the voice realize that they were no longer a voice, no longer just a voice. “I am Setia.”
     
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  3. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    Chapter Two - Friends and One Word Conversations

    Wind passes me, warm on my skin. The air smells like hot oranges and tangerines, it smells awful. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face, “This smells absolutely terrible.”

    The sound of cracking breaches the peacefulness of the moment, drawing my attention. I turn my head, eyeing- what I can only describe as- an imp standing there. It’s round with big eyes and sharp teeth. Large, bat like ears rest atop its head. Little wings on its back flapped uselessly, or perhaps acted as a fan against the heat.

    Its nose twitches, something I did not notice it had until now, and sniffs. I knew it was smelling my intent. I stare back, unable to decide what to do. My memories conflict, telling me to run, eat, and subjugate the little beast. Not all were possible.

    It tilted its head, curiosity in its eyes, but it didn’t take a step closer. I was as passive as the tides in this moment, but without the surety of repetition, there was no saying what I’d do.

    “Hello.” Let’s take the hidden befriend route.

    It startles, eyes going wide before its gaze falls to the floor. The ground appears to be covered in leaves and sticks, seemingly dry. Tall trees reach above our heads, brushing the sky with leaves of fiery red. The sky itself is purple, stuck in a twilight state.

    “Hello.” Try again.

    It’s skinny arms point to itself, “Me?”

    “Yes.”

    It speaks after a moment, almost as if it was searching for words, “Hello.”

    “Hi.”

    “Hi.” Oh my, this is annoying. I can feel something on my face twitching. I move my hand to touch it, the feeling of my face is smooth. After examining my hand, I notice the maroon, no it’s more of a ruby, of my hand is the same color as the imp in front of me.

    “Hurt?” It asks.

    “No.” I stretch my fingers, there’s four of them. It feels both right and wrong. Some parts of me think I should have five, another six, some four, and one part says it should be hooves. I stare at my hands some more, making fists and releasing them.

    “Okay?”

    “Fine.” By this point I can see the imp is becoming anxious. The smooth ridges of its eyebrows are drawn together, creating creases between them. I nod at it, “Happy.”

    “Happy?”

    “Yes.”

    “What?” It tilts its head again, seemingly at a loss for the word it doesn’t understand.

    “Like joy, euphoria, or elation.”

    It agains startles, up until now we’ve been having a one word conversation and it seems the imp is having a hard time processing the words together. “Happy.” It nods.

    “Do you understand what it means?”

    “No.”

    I sigh, my memories tell me that imps have low intelligence. I eye the figure before me. “Would you like to be friends?”

    “Friends?”

    And now I know what the figure was talking about, this is anger inducing. I would have killed me if I was in the figure’s shoes. “We will walk together, talk together. We will hunt and forage together. We will defend each other and attack enemies together. We will live for each other.” It seems a little strong for just being friends, but given the amount of smarts I’m working with, this seems like a good choice of words.

    “Okay.”

    I feel a breath of air escape me and smile on my face, I didn’t realize how afraid I was it would say no. “Fantastic. What’s your name?”

    “Name?”

    “Yes, everything living has a name.”

    “No name.”

    Staring at the imp, my memories supply me my answer. Imps are treated as the cattle of the demon world, if you had a million pigs, you wouldn’t name them all. You’d name the ones that showed strength, charisma, and leadership. You’d name the ones you could pick out in a group. I nod, understanding, “I’m Setia.”

    The imp looks back at me, puzzlement written all over its face. “Setia?”

    “Yes, that is what you’ll call me. When you want my attention or want to talk to me you will use Setia to refer to me.”

    “Understand.”

    “Now what to call you?” I tap my chin with a finger.

    “Me?”

    “Yes.”

    “Hello.”

    “No! We’re not doing this again.” The imp jumps at my outburst, taking a step backwards. “Wait, I’m sorry. We’re friends remember, this means we stick by each other, so don’t leave.”

    It nods slowly, caution never leaving its body. It looks ready to bolt. “Are you a male or a female? Oh wait, that’s a stupid question, demons don’t have sexes.” I nod to myself, happy that I recalled that now rather than later. “I’ll name you… Delilah.”

    “Delilah.”

    “Yes, when I want to talk to you or I need you, I will call for you with Delilah, that is your name.”

    “Understand.”

    I grin, friend get! Delilah comes closer, standing by my side. It doesn’t look distressed or pleased, rather impassive actually. It looks around at the blood trees towering over us.

    My smile soon falls when Delilah starts to become restless. It looks around, nose twitching, bat like ears revolving around. It stills, then leans down and whispers, “Hide.”

    “What’s happenin-” I’m cut off by Dela shoving me out of the small clearing we were in and into the foliage. The imp beside me covers my mouth, motioning for me to be quiet.

    A creature twice the size of us lumbers from the trees where Dela first appeared. It looks like a dog, or rather a wolf, it had the viciousness of the wild in its eyes. It had deep black fur and occasionally sparkled with red if the light hit it just right. It was rather pretty but it’s slow. Its pace agonizingly slow, trotting around as if lost in thought. I want to pet it but at the same time I want to run, this mixture of fear and anticipation is annoying.

    Delilah looks anxious, scanning the area around the wolf, as if there was something scarier than the drooling beast.

    Suddenly the wolf stops, it’s nose twitching in a familiar fashion. It smells something! Just as a growl begins to reverberate in its throat, Delilah jumps from the bush, a rock in hand, and smashing it over the head. The surprise attack causes the hellhound to react too slow to dodge, taking the blow in full force, but the attack coming from a small fry isn’t enough to do more than stun it.

    The wolf shakes its confusion off, snarling at Delilah. Dela does the same, showing off their own pearly whites. The impromptu weapon in the hands of the imp makes their attack more deadly than the wolf would like, so it keeps its distance instead of charging in. One wrong move and the wolf would die.

    This cautionary stance doesn’t seem to be something Dela is interested in copying as it goes right for the kill, stone in hand and teeth ready to chomp. With a full frontal attack, Dela only manages to nick the beast.

    The wolf rears its head, lunging a bite at Dela before the imp has a chance to fix their posture. Something in me tells me to run, run from Delilah and the wolf and the battle raging between the two. But my own words come back to bite me, I said friends fought together, protected each other, I couldn’t abandon Dela now.

    I dug around for a suitable rock without taking my eyes off the fight in front of me. Delilah is losing, being pushed back by the wolf’s constant attacks and quick movements. I eye for the opportunity to join, when my attack would do the most damage. Seconds drag on, every chance seems worse than the previous. Delilah is bleeding in several places but I still can’t seem to find the perfect moment.

    The wolf charges at Dela, mouth open and poised at the imp’s throat. It’s now or never!
     
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  4. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    Chapter Three - A Priest and Two Imps Walk into a Bar

    My arms feel stiff, locked in a position far too unnatural, but the momentum doesn’t stop. A sickening sound rings out as the rock makes contact with the wolf, like the cracking of glass and the smushing of something rotten. The beast crumbles, collapsing to the floor.

    Delilah registers my appearance into the mess and retracts their claws a moment before they rip into me. They take a moment to survey the surroundings, for what, I don’t know.

    It’s hard to breathe, like the wind was taken out of me. I huff and puff, the rock already fallen to the dirt. There’s blood everywhere and for a moment, I focus on nothing but the feeling of it on my skin. I’m going to be sick.

    While my stomach swirls, Dela looks concerned.

    “What?” The word is barely audible between the gasping, retching, and sore throat. I hold my throat, “Why is my throat sore?”

    “Yelling.”

    “Me?”

    “Yes.”

    Why do I feel like our positions reversed right there? “When did I yell?”

    “Attacked.”

    “I totally gave myself away then, that wasn’t the smartest move.”

    “Shh.”

    “Why?”

    “Hellhound,” Dela points to the wolf now oozing brain matter, a legs still twitching. I should make sure it’s dead. Then they point to the trees, “Tamer.”

    “Tamer?”

    “Yes.”

    Oh my god Dela, give me more information than that, I want to retort, but instead I suck in a breath and review the millions of things in my mind. Tamer, /ˈteɪmər/, noun, a person who trains wild animals, one who tames or subdues, often used in compounds as in ‘a lion-tamer’.

    I should take a moment in the future to just sort through stuff, Delilah isn’t exactly the best conversation partner but they know more specifics than me about this environment. Wait! Before that! What about the tamer?

    “Are they coming?”

    “Maybe.”

    I wonder what they’ll look like, maybe they’ll be an imp like us, but maybe they’re bigger? The wolf, or should I say hellhound, was a lot bigger than us, I doubt someone of our size tamed it.

    “Will we fight?”

    “Maybe.”

    My dear child Dela, more information. Please. “Why maybe?”

    “Species.”

    I blink, “Are there more species than us here?”

    “Yes.” Delilah is scanning the horizon, ears swivelling to catch any lick of sound. “Demons,” they point between us, gesturing that we’re demons as if I didn’t already know that. Though, in Dela’s defence, I seem to be lacking the basic knowledge of this world. I really will have to sort through what belongs where later.

    I point to the hellhound, “Is that a demon too?”

    “Yes.”

    “So what else is here?”

    “Humans.”

    Humans? You mean the most abundant species in the universe, thriving on a thousand planets and existing on countless more? What else do I know about them? As I begin to look through my memories, something breaks through the underbrush a distance away, but from the sound of it, they’re running.

    “Hide.” Dela doesn’t waste anytime, but this time we aren’t diving into the bushes. They push me up a tree, “Climb.”

    “What? O-okay.” I stammer and start to climb, using my claws as nails to drag my way up.

    Delilah runs to the closest tree and starts to do the same, but they are much faster than me. Before I know it, I’m a fifth of the way to the lowest branch and Delilah is already arranging the branches to hide themselves.

    Okay, how did you do that so quickly? I struggle up the tree, but when the something breaks into the clearing, I haven’t gotten much farther.

    There’s a long moment where I stare into two eyes and they stare back into mine. It startles at the sight of me, it looks like a man. He wears garments that I don’t recognize at first, a long black shirt with a purple collar and stole. Stole, like a sash worn around the neck, right? But nothing comes but words like abstract and extort. I don’t understand. Oh, I guess this is what they call “escaping reality”.

    The human has been snarling since my escape attempt, he yelled something that felt like an order, but I could only blink back at him, wondering if it was me he was yelling at. When he turns to the wolf- hellhound- on the ground and glares, there is no hint of remorse for the beast lying dead, only anger.

    “Damn dog.” The words he speaks now register.

    “Sorry…” I apologize out of reflex.

    His head whips to me, his eyes flashing with anger, “What did you just say?”

    “I said I’m sorry.”

    “How dare you speak in the human tongue, a demon is a blasphemous existence, you do not deserve to speak in god’s language.” He spits at the end of his sentence, as if that drives the point home more.

    Well then, my bad my dude. Wait, that doesn’t seem like that’s said here.

    “Dirty demons, tricking humans into thinking you’ve a shred of humanity.” He pulls out a bottle from his waist, a belt with many doodads attached. With a quick motion he throws the bottle at me, words spilling from his mouth that seemed more lyrical than a spell, but I recognized it instantly, an aria. A holy spell.

    The bottle hits me, the glass breaking against the hard exterior of my skin. The liquid on the other hand burns through my skin, I hiss, my claws separating from the tree. I roll on the ground, trying to get the leaves and bushes rub the liquid away. Holy water. Should’ve known. Well, I guess I did in some fashion or another.

    “-Lord have no mercy against the wicked who does no good upon your flock.” He ends his chant with words that really don’t seem to be all that inviting. The spell fires, a short beacon of white light flying right over my head and hitting the tree. The tree has no external damage, but within seconds, the tree starts to wither.

    What kind of mockery is this? Magic? I did not sign up for this.

    “So you dodged, wretched snake.”

    “No, I fell, you, on the other hand, apparently have no aim.”

    His eyebrow twitches, a cramped look takes over his face his face, “I see your knowledge of the human language is quite extensive.”

    I think for a moment, still now that the water has been wiped away, “I guess you could say it’s my native lan-” Before I can finish, another bottle is thrown my way. This one I try to catch, but it shatters into my palm. “Ah! Rude! I was still talking!”

    “I will not be distracted by your lies, foul beast!” This guy sure has a lot of names for me. Probably has a background in a good school, probably one ran by a church given his apparent devotion to god. Oh! He’s a priest, that’s what they’re called. My thoughts are way out of the field of staying on task while trying to wipe the holy water from my hand.

    He begins to chant again when a mass hurtles towards him, claws extended and poised to attack. He’s too caught up in saying the words that he doesn’t see the new imp until it’s too late.

    Delilah’s claws make quick work, slicing down his shoulders and coming together in the middle of his chest. The priest shrieks, staggering until he falls. Dela uses their position to stab their claws deeper into the man, effectively wounding him.

    He screams but is quick to start managing his breathing. I tilt my head, confused, when he starts another aria, I realize. Magic isn’t just about mocking physical laws, it makes a fool out of everyone.

    I rush at him, a moment of hesitation and he’ll heal himself. My brain tells me that if he manages to get up, me and Dela are finished, we’re no match for a human. But, what do I do? What’s an effective way to kill someone? Oh god, killing someone? I gulp, stopping in my tracks, paralyzed.

    Delilah seems to have caught onto my earlier frenzy, diving their claws into the man’s chest again, right into his heart. He sputters a few coughs, blood bubbling out, before the light leaves his eyes.

    “Why stop?”

    I crack a smile before I can help myself, “You just said two words. In a row.”

    “Escaping.”

    Woah! Look at that retort.

    “Why?”

    How do I explain this? What does one say when they come face to face with a situation that seems so much larger than the simple action. It would be simple to kill him, wouldn’t it? Slice the throat, cut the heart, take off the head. There’s a lot of ways, I suppose, to go about it. But more than that, “Because I was scared.”

    “Scared?” Delilah looks at me like I’m crazy. “Human,” they point from the priest to me, “kill.”

    “I know they would’ve killed me, I know, but I was scared.”

    “Why?”

    God, you’re like a three year old! “Every living thing has a spark of life, they have names and feelings and thoughts, Dela.” I gulp, looking at the bloodied bodies now lying before me. “Just as easily as his life ended, mine could have as well. And what makes him so different from me? I may be a demon, but I am alive, I want to live, and he may be a human, but he was alive, he probably wanted to live too.”

    “Don’t think.”

    “You don’t think that or I shouldn’t think that?”

    “You.”

    “I can’t help it.” I look at Delilah, trying to convey with my eyes that this way of thinking I have won’t be changing any time soon.

    “Understand,” they say with a nod.

    “What? Really?”

    “No.” The imp shrugs, “But accepted.” I swear I’m gonna cry, Dela gives me a grin, “Friends, right?”

    I nod, wiping my eyes. “Friends.”

    They avert their gaze, but then turn back to me, “Dela?”

    Ah, right, three year old. “A nickname.”

    “Nickname?”

    “Yes.”

    “What?”

    Kill me now. “A short version of a name.”

    “Setia nickname?”

    “Nope, it’s just a very short name.”

    “Understand.”

    “Do you?”

    “No.”

    That’s what I thought.
     
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  5. AardwarkThe2nd

    AardwarkThe2nd (R-18 writer) Aardwark, the king of aardvarks!

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    Chapter 1 was amazing man.
     
  6. AMissingLinguist

    AMissingLinguist [Not Here][Blank Sect][Nuffian #N]

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    That's not how the genderbender tag works. Genderbending is when a character switches sexes(scientific wording), or gender(societal wording).
    "Gender Bender become demons don't have genders for the most part, including our main character"
    Switch become with because. Also, I think it would be bi-gender or gender-fluid, which makes more sense.
     
  7. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    Thank you, fixed the spelling error. I know that's not really how it works but honestly I don't know a better word because they aren't bi-gender, that would imply two genders, and gender-fluid would imply they switch between genders, but demons have a grand total of 0 genders and 0 sexes. There's no switching about things. There's just a bender of sorts.
     
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  8. AMissingLinguist

    AMissingLinguist [Not Here][Blank Sect][Nuffian #N]

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    Wouldn't the demons be asexual? I don't remember if there was a term for non-genders.
     
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  9. AnoeticDuckling

    AnoeticDuckling Well-Known Member

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    OH! That's a word! Lol, totally forgot that was a thing. I'll change it to that, thank you.
     
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