Writing compelling characters and dialogue is an important part of romhacking. Let’s practice writing scenes with our favorite character archetype, the edgelord
- All edgy monologues must be italicized for maximum effect
- No text is allowed in the thread besides edgy monologues.
- Please keep edginess rated PG.
- Make your narration about a blade, opponent, a former lover, or a dark past that the reader wouldn’t understand. Note that these topics are suggestions, and not required to participate.
- Don’t feel compelled to make it personal.
- Be distant and short-tempered, but never enraged.
- Read in a gravelly voice to sound even cooler
How do I win the competition?
- Listen kid, maybe when you’re older.
Here is an example to get you started:
This blade… The blood on it is still fresh. But there’s no body. Typical. But this design, the unusual curvature of the blade. The shape of the hilt… It can only mean one thing. No one uses these swords in this part of the continent… except for her. But why is she here? Not that I care, anyway… But I know she is a formidable opponent now. And it makes sense… I was her teacher… her lover, until I found her… with him. Could this be his blood? Wishful thinking. Not that it matters now. You surely wouldn’t understand. My mission isn’t complete… I must keep searching for her… To demand answers, so I can end this myself.
So much hype, so much… edge.
How long has it been… since that night,
I let myself down…
Maybe I remember… maybe I don’t want to.
Maybe I wouldn’t care anyway… if I let myself
After all… who knows how much destruction it would cause. Perhaps people would just stop caring…
Or maybe, some hero might step up to stop me…
ha… that would give them a show…
Besides… if I’m giving everyone what they really want…
Am I really…
The bad guy?
You know it’s brats like you that make me glad I left the corps.
Maybe you wanna be something, you think you can make a change, make the world a better place. But you’re not going to. You’re gonna get to a position where you can do something valuable, but you won’t… You know why? Cause things are gonna happen, bad things. And you’re gonna try to stop it? No. you’re gonna give up after some half cocked attempt goes wrong. You’re gonna get comfortable with your newfound power use it to keep things exactly how they are…
You know, I’m thankful for my new life… I get up every day and everyone stays in their place. The strong grow stronger and the weak stay in their misery or pass away… I wouldn’t have it any other way. I feel the light from the sun on my face…breathing fresh air out with the birds… no longer holed up in that god-forsaken cage.
You know I’m thankful for the holocaust… cause it taught the world a lesson… that as much as you may want good to triumph, or the world to change…
It’s all going to stay the same
Also Bin-Laden was an inside job.
Pandan tells me… it need not be personal?..
It can never be personal, old man… what was left of my humanity was shredded by fate long ago…
Now… there is no more me…
There is only… The Game…
You, Devisian knights.
How much weight…
can you handle?
Can you withstand the spirit
of one who’s life has passed?
The weight of the burden
of that death?
Weak souls succumb quickly
to a strong spirit…
Strong ether is like a toxin
to those whose bodies and minds
are unfamiliar with such
Kain, just for a moment,
grant me that power…!
History is not written with a pen…
It is etched by cold steel.
Even the archives of the wisest scholars are but an opuscule compared to the annals of war this blade has rendered in blood.
And yet… There remain pages unwritten…
I sense the brimming darkness in your soul–the murderous ink with which you pen your name.
Come… We shall see whose finale is written tonight.
Thick blood… It coats these blades… It trails downwards… Shrouds these hands… Regret… Sorrow… The dead’s lingering will… Drowning in it was the price… And so… Much… More…
I am a ghost… Not a man… Not a hero… I live on this path of blood… My love… My hatred… My essence… swallowed… One thousand and one souls have been consumed… Tell me hero… Tell this corpse… Will you be one thousand and one… Hero?
Only the blade… Holds the truth… Only the blood… Holds your answers… No warriors… No paladins… Only Killers… Will survive…
A Killer… Can survive…
Life is a dance, a dance share by two people. Swordsmanship is the same way, a dance share by two people of the art of the blade. Now come the sounds of the steel will be our music! We will dance together and only one will leave our dancefloor, this battlefield!
Listen, kid. You don’t know what I’ve seen. Tch, you wouldn’t even begin to understand… the pain I’ve felt… the opponents I’ve felled to be where I am. And you choose to stand before me to tell me it’s personal… Who are you anyway? You’re just some kid. Not like you’d know anything about… sorrow.
You weak fool, living under the illusion of an organized world, when in fact there is no such thing, there has never been such thing, there never… will… be such thing. You flee to the comforts of law and order to escape the reality of the abyss we call life. The strong devour the weak. I devour the weak.
Why complain? I’ve done nothing more than release these men, women, and children from the prison of life – released them… into the open plains of hell, where they will roam forever.
You wish to stop me. Come then, challenge me. I’ll allow it, hell I encourage you to. After all, we are friends…
The weak should fear the strong.
There exists no such thing as good or ill. There is only the man, and where he points his blade.
I’m not surprised to see you again. I really shouldn’t be, at this point. You’ve been quite the interesting figure…
But it’s late. It’s far too late. I’ve honed my blade, since I’ve seen you last… and I’ve spilled more blood than you could ever know. I’ve slaughtered good men and evil alike… all but worms before their inevitable death. The ends of their lives, splattered into the uncaring earth… do you think you would be any different?
Ah. How interesting. You almost seem to think you stand a chance against me. Against everything I’ve done in this pitiful little world. Then I’ll indulge you, perhaps… if you don’t just beg for mercy like the rest of the lives I’ve ended.
Ready your blade, then, mortal… and prepare to meet your end, at the hands of this inevitable darkness. I will demonstrate to you just what my blade has learned. You will be but another spray of blood staining its edge. I expect you will pose something of a challenge, though… Show me, then, what you can do.
Oh my sweet summer child, you do not know what is to come in the future. You may be surrounded by gleeful smiles and joyful thoughts, but from my hand you shall experience the screams of torment, the wailing cries, gnashing of teeth, deep cuts of pain and even more, so much more that the memories of joy will become a myth to you, you will push others away and become the beast you tried to kill. Your bloodline ends here.
The man lies… The gods lies… but the blade is always true to it’s intentions… that’s why the blade is the only thing I’ll ever trust.
I never could stand the rain. Figures I would face him, here, now, raindrops running red down my blade as he looks at me sneering the dripping counts the seconds, both of us moving into stances, ready to draw Five long years, his features burned in my mind like the burnt ashes he let in his wake. Mother… mother, let this rain end the tears I see every night. Let my sword be the one to give your spirit rest. Give me peace with this single stroke In a flash, I dash forward, and collapse to one knee, teardrops silently falling, mixing with the blood and the rain It is done
You, Devisian Knights. How much weight…
How much of a person’s soul - a person’s death
can you brush aside as if it were your broken blades?
Will you ever be able to not look back from this day?
The day that you decided to take that soul away from his life?
Can you even withstand the spirit of a martyr? Do you feel no burden, no sin, no stain?
Or have you already wiped your hands free of that martyr’s blood?
…Faithless curs like you can never understand that sort of spirit. That willpower.
Even I don’t… Heheh…
But even now… That very spirit is passed onto me. It’s already wrapped around you like a snake capturing its prey…
A toxin ready to loosen the mortal coil over that which you call your pathetic, weak soul.
After all, small game like you will never know the meaning of that spirit… That power… That ether…!
Kain, just for a moment… Let me understand fully…
I’ll never get on your level… I’ll never have the desire to push on like you have…
But I need that overwhelming aura you shared, even now.
Kain… Just for a moment… I need your shining soul to guide the abyss of my heart!
Even if it’s just for a moment… Grant me that power…!!
There once was a man from Nantucket
His family died
His dog died
His village died
He grew up on the streets
He had to steal to survive
At the age of 12, he assassinated a family with 7 children and ate their pets
'Cause he was bored
Nobody understands him
He’s dark and mysterious and morally gray and crazy
That’s why I roll to stab the baby dragon
It’s what my character would do
Throw away everything… To bring the dead world back to life…
Sacrifice another self…
Your world… My world… This is the choice i face…
I made a dangerous wager and I lost… We all did, Hel won!
Hel killed my sister…
And in the end… After everything… She bade me balance the cohort of the dead
That is my task
When someone from another realm dies, someone here is saved
On these terms i forged a contract with Hel
To save our world… I will decimate yours!
It was all my fault… The people of Askr…
And Sharena… My sanity… It died with them.