OC List V_2.0 (Under construction)
I am making a new version of the list so that it can be easier found because I will pin it on my blog ^^
Based on @pinky-the-polar-bear , @zombiedeers , @pastelprince18, @peachy-keenss and @onlyreyhere
/@pan-fried-autism Roadkillerz OC lists
If you would like to know more about them, feel free to ask whatever you like ^^
Of Swords and Pens
Owens Family Tree
Jeremiah Owains (Blaise ancestor)
Timothy Owens (Blaise great uncle)
Lewis Owens (Father, deceased)
Eliza Owens (Mother, deceased)
Blaise Owens (first child, Neutral)
Victor Owens (second child, Neutral)
Joanna Owens (third child, Frist Responders)
Lawrence Owens (fourth child, Neutral, deceased)
Connor Owens (Neutral) (Clone of Lawrence)
June Owens (Neutral) (Clone of Blaise)
First Responders:
Garrett Bearlitz (First Responders)
Dr. Ruby Mortis (First Responders)
Manatena Berrocal (First Responders)
Franz Weißschloss aka “The Hospital Chaplain” (WIP)
Obdulio Bravo (formerly Tigris Empire, now First Responders )
Charl Mountebank (First Responders
Leonid Aksakov / Akdow (First Responders, joins later)
Misc. Roadkillerz:
Chadli Spox (Roadkillerz, later Neutral)
Claire du Rand (Roadkillerz, deceased)
Sasha du Rand (Roadkillerz)
Nikolai Akdow (Neutral, later Roadkillerz)
Aviso Grand (Neutral, later Roadkillerz)
Shade Marengo (Grey Mane Club, later Roadkillerz)
Bradley Bear (Roadkillerz, later missing)
Arthur P. Bellum (Army, later Roadkillerz)
Lukas U. Naris (Roadkillerz)
Misc. Wrath
Giordano "Cannelloni" Castellani (Wrath, later Neutral)
Nutmeg Cinnamon (Wrath, later Neutral)
Dr. Lis Polarny aka "The Surgeon" (Wrath, later Medics)
Weregeld Schein (Wrath, later Neutral)
Aeolus Piston aka “Soldier 040″ (Wrath, later Neutral)
Page aka “Soldier 404″ (Wrath, later Neutral)
Seren E. Ness (Wrath, later Neutral)
Misc. Neutral
Ian Snapshot (Neutral)
Kathrina Akdow (Neutral)
Michael "Mike" Melkboer (Neutral)
Keratin Grand (Neutral)
"Father" Job Fahim (Neutral)
Tonic Corner (Neutral, deceased)
Charly Doe (Neutral)
Dwight Cahoon (Neutral)
Vasily Akdow (Neutral, "departed")
Quintus Imperium (Neutral)
Lily Ordnung (Neutral)
Janus Gates (Neutral)
Constance Jacquemart aka "The Phantom of Mayberry" (Neutral)
Misc.
Thomas Lieberg (Broken Heart Cult)
“The Architect of Mayberry” (Town of Mayberry)
"Father" Jerome Alabaster (Town of Mayberry)
"Father" Urban Bacchus (Town of Mayberry)
"Father" Raymond Crosshill (Town of Mayberry)
"Father" Denarius Snooze (Town of Mayberry)
"Father" Bartholomew Ekzem (Town of Mayberry)
Fed Geeman (Government/Town of Mayberry)
Tinker Robinson (Town of Mayberry)
Rex Imperium (Town of Mayberry)
Albert "Al" Clear aka "The Launderer" (Town of Mayberry)
Fil M. Helmer (Town of Mayberry)
Åge Aeon (Town of Mayberry)
Reverend/Pastor Mitchell Canon (Town of Mayberry)
"The Author" (Government)
Castor Montan (Town of Mayberry)
CATOS (Town of Mayberry)
Organizations
Broken Heart Cult / Cult of the Broken Heart
Marauders
Grey Mane Club
Blood Moon Order
Followers of the Moon
Church of the Righteous Cross
Places
Trailer Park "Town"
"The Peace"
AUs
Shared Curse AU
Adoption AU Solo
Adoption AU Quintet
Pet AU
Fan Fictions
A Corner to lean on
Phantoms in the base
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A story to remember
TW: Religious Themes
Characters: Dorothy Whitlock, Franz Weißschloss
Originally written: 19th August 2022
There really was no way out of there, was there? Allowing himself to let out a sigh, Father Franz Weißschloss closed the book, no, he would read the “parable of the day”, even if he knew that It would be difficult for him.
As the hospital chaplain of the Medics and a priest of the “Followers of the Moon” he was allowed to hold services, given the tight schedule of many Medic staff, he usually kept them short and in the late evening, however even despite that, most of the time only a few appeared in the chapel, but Franz didn’t judge, he understood that many didn’t have time or were just too exhausted at this point of the day. A few patients appeared as well to his services sometimes.
The “chapel” was actually more of a multi-purpose room that anyone could use, if they needed it and asked to use it in due time, it wasn’t big but, for a few people it was more than enough Franz concluded, as he started to put a few chairs, into the direction so they would face the “altar”, which was a simple table. Moving it a few inches to the left so that the table would be more in the centre, the hospital chaplain could feel a sharp pain going trough his right leg.
So it was going to be one of those days he wondered, raising his dark blue robe, he took a look at his scarred limb, a permanent reminder from years ago, when he had a car accident, fortunately he was already finished preparing the furniture, and so he took his walking cane, which leaned on a wall. Taking his book again, he placed it now on the table, opening it on the page he would read from today, and looking at the words in a sorrowful tone.
“Father, is something wrong?”
In a short moment, he couldn’t breath by the sudden voice, that by no means sounded harsh or frightening, the opposite was the case, it sounded caring and warm, and yet, it was the voice of her, that startled him, as soothing as it was, right now, he wished he would not have to hear it.
Dorothy Whitlock stood only a few meters away, in the door frame having her head tilted as she asked the question to him, despite how friendly her words sounded, there was also a hint of worry in them. Not wanting to make the situation more sorrowful, Franz responded with a calm smile.
“It is nothing Ms.Whitlock, really, just my leg acting up a bit but, there isn’t really much that can be done against that.”
The nurse looked at him for a second, before giving him an understanding nod. She was a wonderful and friendly person, no wonder she became a nurse, they didn’t look too different, she was a bear, just like him and the hospital chaplain knew how helpful she was, ready to aid anyone, no matter who it would be.
But seeing her, compared with the parable he was going to read today, it would be difficult for him, taking another breath, he knew, It was inevitable and that he would need a lot of inner strength not to cry.
“If I may ask Ms.Whitlock, what brings you here?”
“Why your service of course Father, you can call me Dorothy you know.”
He offered her another smile, as he was looking at his book again, and moving a bit from his shoulder long hair away, which was hanging in front of his eyes, revealing their blue iris and the permanent tear marks under them. Swallowing Franz decided to give her a short explanation, which he hoped wouldn’t hurt too much.
“I know, it, is just a preference of mine, nothing personal Ms.Whitlock
“>Yeah, because you don’t DESERVE calling her by her first name!<”
Trying to put the thought aside, he looked at the simple clock on the wall, which showed that it was five minutes, before his service would start.
It were only four people, including him and Dorothy Whitlock, but, he honestly didn’t focus too much on the other two, with Franz trying as good as possible not to make it obvious.
“I welcome all of you for today's service and want to speak out my welcome to those, who are today with us in spirit because they couldn’t make it. May Luna watch over us now, and forever, giving us their strength and aid when we require the moon in our lives and ask for their help.”
Raising his arm towards the unseen sky that was of course, blocked by the ceiling of the room, he paused for a moment, so that the service visitors had some time to collect themselves, and he as well.
Opening his eyes he looked into the small group of three in front of him, giving them a soft smile, as he started to explain.
“I will now read to you, the parable of the day, followed by an explanation in how I interpret the following words.”
Every priest of the “Followers of the Moon”, was not only required when holding services, to read the parable of the day, but also to interpret it truthfully and wholeheartedly, with Franz hoping he could manage it, despite his difficulties he had with this one.
“There was once a family of f-four, a father, a mother and their two children, a boy, the older one, and a girl. They lived happily in their home, and had everything they could ask for.
But one day, one of the family left-”
Franz took a quick breath, taking a look around and seeing how everyone was listening to him, for now, he was able, not to focus too much on Dorothy, and he hoped to keep it that way.
“-from one moment to another, the father packed a few of his belongings...and left. Leaving behind no letter or explanation why he d-did it.”
His very own sadness, began to creep up, and although he could feel it without any doubt, suppressed it as good as possible.
“>That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?<”
Once again, he tried to ignore the thought, with the bear focusing on the book he read the lines from as he had spread his arms while doing so.
“The remaining family was of course shaken, there was a great sadness, confusion and anger, directed against the father who had suddenly left, for a long time, they did not hear from him, no one knew were he was or what happened to him. The wife grew older, and so did the children, the memories of the father, slowly fading as they went their own ways.”
“>You can feel it, crawling trough you body, can’t you?<”
Guilt spread like a hot flame trough every inch of his veins and bones, but the hospital chaplain continued, not allowing himself to be distracted, for he knew, the next part, would be even more painful for him.
“Yet, then one day, there was a knock, at the families door, and in front of them, stood their f-father, having like them, changed-”
“>Why do you hide your own wrongdoings from them, and from yourself?<”
“-all three were shocked to see him, for they did not expect, to see him ever again. The father knelt down in front of the three he had abandoned for so long, and asked for forgiveness.”
For a very short moment, he looked into the small crowd again, who were still, listening to his service focused, awaiting how the parable continued, quickly he allowed himself a glance at Dorothy, then looking back at his book, Franz hearth aching with every beat.
“It was his daughter, who spoke first. Giving him an embrace, as she...as she told him, she would forgive him, telling him he is welcome in their home again.”
“>Do you seriously believe, your own will do the same for you?<”
Breathing out sharply, he closed his eyes, and continued, he knew, how the parable went by heart at this point, having read it often enough himself, in services, but also alone.
“Then came his wife, and she told him honestly, that the pain of what he had done sat deep and gravely in her, that she does not know, if she ever can forgive what he has been done to her and their children, and certainly, she will never forget. But she is ready, to try.”
Feeling how his hands were shaking a bit, and honestly the hospital chaplain hoped, that no one would notice his trembling, he looked down at his dark blue robe, in the middle being a beige circle, representing the moon he worshipped, giving him a bit more confidence, to say the last part of the parable.
“Lastly came his son, his voice was loud and stern, one that made his father shake trough heart and mind, shouting at him, how he would never forgive the one he called once father, that the pain he had caused, will always be there and the wound never heal. That even if they now see each other again, he will not...say to him father...and see him instead, as the stranger he has become to him!”
He felt, how the last part, got the better of him and made him more emotional, although he was not shouting, he knew how he had raised his voice a bit more than usual, but now it was over, and with the exception of a dry cough from one of the service listeners.
Closing his book, he took a moment to collect himself and to allow, that the others, to think for a moment about the parable, before giving his own interpretation.
“We may ask ourselves now, who is this father who had turned into a stranger?”
“>It’s you. It’s you. It’s YOU!<”
For a quick moment he gritted his own teeth, before relaxing.
“He can be many people we have encountered trough our lives, or perhaps just one. My interpretation of the parable, is this-”
“>Your fault, your fault ALL YOUR FAULT!<”
Carefully he stepped in front of the table, to be closer to the three, looking at them, with his glance stopping at Dorothy, who appeared to be, affected, by what he head read, prompting him to focus on the wall behind her.
“-the three of the family, daughter, mother and son, in the order as they appeared in the end, they represent us. At one point, we all have or will be hurt by one or many people who we have grown close to-”
Looking down, his own sadness was rising again, with Franz begging internally that he would not cry now, fortunately, his prayers were answered for now.
“- and it is our own decision, how we deal with it. The parable does not say, the daughter, the mother or the son is in the right. All three of them, have their own way to deal, with their father, and none of them is judged for their decision. When a person hurts you, it is up to you, how, and if you forgive them. That is what I believe, this parable wants to tell us.”
That was his short service, all that was left to do, was dismiss the ones who had come to listen to his words with a short prayer, raising his arm on the same level as his head, into the others direction.
“May Luna guide you, which way you choose to go, trough day and night.”
And with that, it was over, Franz approached the visitors, speaking out his thanks that they had come, with one giving a short compliment, before two of them quickly went out of the room.
It was then, that he heard quiet sobbing, and turning around he wondered, if that was perhaps the reason why the other two left so suddenly.
Dorothy Whitlock sat on her chair, with a few tears falling on the plastic flooring, after taking his walking cane he carefully he approached her, even if a part of his mind begged him not to do it, but his mouth opened to speak nevertheless.
“Ms.Whitlock, are you alright?”
Having been startled for a moment, she looked up to him, her yellow eyes meeting his blue ones who were hidden behind square glasses.
For a moment, he considered, touching her shoulder, perhaps as a sign of compassion, but, before he could do it, he retracted his hand himself with Dorothy not having noticed his short movement.
“Oh father it- it’s nothing really but, the parable and what you have said about it, just made me think and realise-”
Wiping her tears away, the medics nurse breathed in and out before offering the hospital chaplain a bit of a shaky smile, which he assumed to ensure him, that she was alright, but his own sadness remained.”
“-how similar and close it hits to home.”
A deep pang of guilt and sorrow shot trough his body like a thunderbolt, and he could feel himself how now, he himself was overtaken by emotion.
“>Say it, come on Franz, say it what you have done, say it to her!<”
Despite what his thoughts were shouting at the old bear, all that he was able to say, was small.
“I-I am so sorry.”
“It’s ok, really, it is not your fault and- oh, my apologise Father Weißschloss, but, looking at the time I need to go there is-”
But whatever Dorothy was saying to him now, he could no longer hear it clearly, it all turned into a blur, his body moving more, automatic than controlled by his thoughts, faintly he could see the Medic nurse standing up and leaving, saying her goodbye to him, before the last thing he saw of her, was a glimpse of her yellow and curly hair, then she was gone.
He could feel how his chest was rising, breathing heavy, approaching the door himself he closed it carefully, and then locked it with the key that was still in the hole.
“>Your fault, your fault ALL YOUR FAULT!<”
All was fuzzy, both his head and vision and before he knew it, Franz Weißschloss was laying on the ground, as tears started to well up from his eyes, unable to stop them he cried, letting out whimpers, that hurt him even more than his leg, which at this point he ignored. Even when he covered his face with his hands, his tears ran trough the thin gaps between the fingers, on the floor.
“>You abandoned them! YOU ABANDONED THEM! It is ALL your fault!<”
Pressing his hands against his ears, he wanted the voices to stop, that they would be silence, yet, they continued even more to shout at him, similar to the violence of a hailstorm.
He wanted to tell her, he wanted to say it to the Ms.Whitlock so bad, but no matter how hard he tried, something always held him back, as if, there was a rock into his throat, to tell the truth of who he was. And all he could do, was to cry in solitude, were no one could hear his own torment. No matter how often he attempted to reveal the truth, he always failed, saying to her who he really was.
To tell Dorothy, that he was the one who had abandoned the family, that he was her father.
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