C. D. - character development

((You could be out in the storm and we could invite you in, I guess ))

(Alrighty...)
Dylan: I threw my jacket on and flipped the hood on my head, trying to protect myself from the rain. I walked by the only house on the street with lights on and considered going up and knocking on the door.

Feyla: "I don't let them near me, that's why I have this." I heft my widow-maker pike and freeze.
"There's someone else outside."
I open the door and look around in the rain, which appears to be slackening off a little.
"Is there anyone out there?" I shout.

Dylan: I moved forward and said, "Yes...Um...Hi..." I know, what a nice greeting. And didn't my mother tell me not to go into a stranger's home...but it was pouring and I didn't have anywhere else to go.

Feyla: I glare at the new boy. He looks young, but that doesn't prove anything. I lower my widow-maker at him.
"Who and what are you? Come on, speak!"

"I suppose I should've worded that better. With the Sybek, even if you stab them with a pike, that's still contact, and you're still dead. Weapons like that are useless against them." I look past the door at the new kid. "Huh. You didn't react like that when I came in. Come on, he looks harmless."

Dylan: I was startled. "I'm Dylan. Sorry to intrude, I think I should go..." I started to turn away from the house.

Feyla: "Yeah... You're right. Come in lad, we don't want you freezing to death."
I look at the new girl. "Thinking about it, none of us no the names of any others here. I am Feyla Van Druizen, and my pike is blessed by the four, so that no infernal magicks may stand against it. I'd like to see your Sybek deal with that."

"I'm Nike. Their 'magicks' aren't infernal, so I don't know what you can do about that. Really, you could run a Sybek right through with that thing, and it could kill him, but as long as he stays awake enough to shift before he dies, you're dead. And where you killed that one Sybek, countless more are there to take his place."

Feyla: "Shift? I'm uncertain as to what you mean."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Shifting is jumping from one universe to another. That's how the Sybek kill you. If they touch you, they shift and take you back to their nearest headquarters where you die. There's no question about it, either. You die."

Dylan: As they talked jiberish, I just figured they were really into Star Trek or something, I took off my coat. and hung it on a coat rack. I was glad I was wearing a long sleeve shirt because it was a little cold in Feyla's house.

Feyla: "An army of Zealots would sweep them aside as surely as fire sweeps away leaves."
I turn to the boy, who appears to be shivering. "What's your name?"
I remove my blessed helmet and shake out my long blonde hair.

((Oh, if your characters could be any animal, what would they be? It's important for me to know.))

"How many Zealots do you have? Billions? You'll need more than that. And he already said his name's Dylan." Dylan's soul brushes Seren, and I catch some stray thoughts. I'm curious, and I figure there's no point in secrecy now. I mean, Feyla believes in magic, so why hide? The worst that could happen is I scare the shit outta the kid and he runs in terror. "What's 'Star Trek'?" I ask him, tiltling my head to the side.

Feyla: "These Sybeks sound like children wit their parents' weapons compared to some of the things I've seen. I travel with nine other Zealots most of the time, and between us we've killed everything from the untouchable Goddess of Etollicus to the corpse-giants of Skrale. And thee are many more Zealots all across the land. We may be shifted to their headquarters but that will only put us closer to the seat of their power. No Zealot will ever stop fighting while they yet live, and no Zealot will die by magical means."
((She's wrong, of course, but Zealots are incredibly hard to kill, even by the standards of Greek gods))
"Do you know him?" I gesture to the as-yet silent boy.

((I'm aware ))

"Have you seen nearly eight billion people die in a matter of minutes? That's what the Sybek are capable of, and that's what they've done several times already. And no, I don't know him."

"Of course not. generally because I've killed whoever or whatever was going to do it. How do they kill you, anyway?"

"They hook you up to a machine that takes the energy from your soul. You die excruciatingly painfully. I don't know how it works, only that it works. I've lost comrades to it. The only way I know any of this is at all is because we have some ex-Sybek working for us."

(What room of the house are we in? I'm just going to say living room if that's okay.)
Dylan: I walked into the living room and sat down in a chair. Then I cleared my throat and trying to be as polite as I could said, "What are you talking about exactly? I'm not a huge Star Trek fan, but I'll try to catch up."

"How do they... hook you up... to this machine if they have no hands and their intestines are decorating the floor?"
I turn to the boy. He is still mumbling about a thing called 'star trek', but it could just be a disguise.
"I don't know what your 'Star Trek' is, boy, and I have no wish to find out. I am a Zealot of the Four. We are armoured paladins dedicated to upholding the Four and defending the people from spiritual threats. I've killed demons, monsters, cultists, mad monks and more. Again: Who and what are you?"

Dylan: Now this Feyla person was starting to tick me off. So, being the smart aleck that I am, I raised my hand up and made the V symbol. I said, "I am a human of Earth. My name is Dylan. I come in peace." Then just for special effect I added an alien-like beeping noise.

((Nike already inadvertently read Dylan's thoughts and asked what Star Trek was, but I guess you missed that.

And again, animals? I really do need to know this, because it's part of the world Nike comes from. What animals are your characters most like?))

"How do you cut off their hands and decorate the floor with their intestines if you're being restrained by solid rock, your soul being bitten into by vicious fangs?" I turn to Dylan. "And really, what's Star Trek? You've gotten me curious now." Back to Feyla, "He's just a normal human. Believe me, I can tell."

"Because trying to move a Zealot by magical means is the worst mistake a single person can ever make in their life-time. And the last."
I lower the point of my widow-maker and let the broad blade rest on Dylan's neck.
"A little less of your tomfoolery might be in order, Dylan of Earth."
((Feyla is probably most like wolf. Perhaps a wolf with chainsaws for limbs and laser eyes, but a wolf nonetheless.))

((Thanks ))

"But that's just the thing; it isn't magic. And let up a little, will you? He's just a kid. Straight-up human, nothing more."

(Um...a jungle cat. Like a cheetah would be his animal.)
Dylan: I wasn't really scared. More annoyed because these people wouldn't tell me what they were talking about.