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Shade's Third Birthday

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NOTE: This begins with the character that Shade is based off of, as opposed to the Shade that we know. Shade’s history-despite being a few years old, is already as complicated as his powers. So if you’re too impatient to read this whole thing, then run. Run away.

SOME TIME DURING THE SUMMER OF 2011


Dear brain, will you please shut off for just a second so that I don’t have a stroke from the speed at which you are coming up with information?

Maia’s brain kindly answered, “No.”

The girl sighed. She had come up with a new story idea, and she usually loved it when her brain went into overdrive, coming up with ideas at super speed. But not when she was trying to write all of this stuff down.

The idea was simple, at least to her. At the age of five a boy and his parents move from the states to London, though Maia had yet to come up with an explanation as to why. Their family lived happily there for several years, though “happily” for this family was different, as the parents were both scientists (that also, the boy would discover, dabbled in the dark arts) and experimented on him, their only child. Naturally, since this has been the boy’s life, he finds it perfectly normal. However, his parents got mixed up in some bad business and were murdered when the boy was a teenager. He takes off, and it’s around this time that news starts spreading about a detective able to solve crimes in the same fashion as the fictional Sherlock Holmes. For a long time-Maia planned-there would be no guess on what the detective looked like until he showed up at the scene of a crime one day out of the blue, dressed in a suit and fedora, and introduced himself as Shade. The fedora would cover his eyes, adding to the mystery of him. For those that catch a glimpse of his face, they’d notice that he wore dark sunglasses that no one could see through.

Maia imagined that Shade would be somewhere in his early twenties and was inspired by the Sherlock Holmes books, though he never lost the American accent. His personality, she decided, was purposefully one that pushed people away. Shade was negative, usually rude in his conversations. He could easily be described as being like Batman, as he often scared people-namely criminals-was pessimistic, and was a major loner. However, “Shade” was no alter ego. As Maia continued to think of the story, she decided that if she went through with this idea, Shade’s true, official name would never be released. Not in flashbacks, nor by Shade himself. In an attempt to rid himself of his past or any clues that people could find to discovering who he was, he sold his old home, his office and home was a small apartment that he rented under what was admittedly a false name, and he burned his birth certificate. Whoever he was before taking on this lifestyle no longer existed.

Shade, despite his popularity and (occasional) cooperation with the local police, was a social outcast in his own right. He wore his hair long so that his bangs covered his eyes when the fedora and sunglasses didn't suffice. He refused to take off his sunglasses for anyone. Maia planned on keeping it that way until the end of the book-she was debating making it a book or a comic-where he breaks into a gang’s house in the middle of the night to confront them. They all try attacking him at once, and Shade takes off his sunglasses. The gang members stop dead in their tracks and fall to the ground, crying bloody murder.

This power, as Maia decided a few days after her brainstorm, was a dangerous and uncontrollable power that was a result of Shade’s parents combining science and magic and experimenting on him when he was young. The power emerged around the time of Shade’s parents’ deaths, possibly caused by the trauma, if not because the experiment had been recent. The ability, after leaving Shade blind for a few hours, was uncontrollable. Whenever he looked a person in the eye, they went into a hallucinate state, being confronted by the greatest sin that they had ever committed by what Shade discovered was the universe’s standards as opposed to their own. Even something simple like a lie resulted in what someone that had experienced it described as grotesque. The gang, for example, had murdered several people. Through the stammering of one member, Shade knew that he was experiencing a repeating moment where he was getting killed in the very ways that he had killed, except worse-if he had stabbed someone, the knife was twisted instead of a simple stab-and he couldn't die from it. He was going through excruciating pain that wouldn't stop. And since he had done it so many times, it took several hours for the torment to end.

Shade was moral, as shown by the several times that he put morals above the law, but he showed little sympathy towards anyone. Showing anyone his eyes was a last resort, of course, but for him interrogating someone for information would occasionally require that “last resort.” He had a few acquaintances that Maia had yet to name: an older Watson-like character that served as Shade’s conscience at times and an intelligent yet impulsive girl that Shade-being Shade-often used as bait that blatantly had an interest in Shade, though he was uninterested.

Despite the concept itself being awesome and interesting to Maia, the issue with ideas was actually writing them, which Maia knew every writer could agree with. She had several ideas that she still remembered in great detail, but was never able to write. Maia frowned, wondering if she’d ever complete the idea, much less publish it. She tapped her chin with her pen. What should his eye color be…? Should I even think of one? Maia questioned if the mystery should ever be revealed. She hadn't drawn Shade yet, with sunglasses or otherwise. Maia nodded on an idea.

Black. Black irises, black pupils, just as black as people imagine his soul.

ABOUT A WEEK BEFORE NOVEMBER 18th

Maia, as she feared, was unable to make the idea work. The story of the young detective Shade just didn't work. She had pieces, but they didn't fit. Hell, she didn't even have all of the pieces. Sure, it could take years for an idea to work for Maia, but this type of dead-end was one of doom for any and all stories that hit it. It was practically a route of no return.

Maia groaned loudly. She was highly disappointed in herself. Sure, she had several other stories to work with (thinking back, that might have been the problem), but whether she was taking it seriously or not, Maia felt like a failure for not being able to come up with a full story. She usually thought of points A, B, M, possibly Q, and often Z, but for Shade it was A and B. That was it. It was awful.

The real reason that the brunette was so upset? She liked Shade. It was easy for her to like most of her characters, of course, but most of them were optimistic, idealists, or girls. None of her other characters had such a tragic past; the worst past that a character had before Shade was being part of the working class and suffering discrimination because of it. Shade, on the other hand, was an orphan, negative, and labeled a freak by society. Sometimes he was called a monster. Maia had obviously matured in some way, as she had never put so much depth into a character before. He was no hero, nor was he a villain or antihero. He was simply a curious guy with issues and no social skills whatsoever. Then, Maia thought of her issue. The real reason that she had no good ideas, yet felt so awful.

The story wasn’t important to her, but the character was.

Yes, Maia had put much thought into the basic plot. But did she truly care about the actual occurrences? She usually came up with random story ideas that were all over the place, but for Shade…all that she could think about was Shade. He was a well-done character in Maia’s opinion. He wasn’t like any other character she had seen, even with the vague comparisons to two other detectives. He was by society’s standards handsome: just under six feet tall, long yet well cut black hair, and enough masculinity that no one would mistake him for a girl, even from behind. The sunglasses added mystery, and even those that preferred tan skin wouldn’t be able to deny that he worked his pale skin. He wasn’t a “bad boy” like his image suggested. He never got in trouble for fun, he didn’t peer pressure, and he didn’t sleep around (actually, he didn’t sleep that often, much less with others).

This was how Maia knew that the story meant nothing to her: she dropped it at that moment. Gone. Poof. Part of the vault in her mind practically labeled “Unused Ideas.” All that remained in Maia’s head was the character that she enjoyed creating. But what to do with him…?

Maia felt a strange presence in the room. Mora. It was always Mora. “I’d ask what you’re doing, but I already know.” Maia turned slightly to her OC to say, “Why aren’t you hanging out with your brother or something?” Mora shrugged. “I’m not always around him, you know. Anyway, Shade…Why not introduce him to us? We’d be happy to take him in.” “Because he’s a gloomy pessimist that would probably upset both you and Mikey.” “And…?” Mora pouted at her creator. “Maia, you created an entire world for him. You’re not letting him go, but you’re pulling away everything he was made for. Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Maia didn’t answer. “And unlike several people, you don’t think of your creations as ‘just imaginary characters.’ You’d feel guilty if you left him stranded, and you know I’m right.”

It was true. Mora was right. Maia could never just pluck a character out of a plot like that. Either they disappeared with the rest of the “dimension” or they were replaced by another character, if not revamped or placed in another story setting. Shade, however, had no other place to go.

“…I’m gonna change some things.” Mora smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Over the course of a week, Maia had revamped Shade. She had decided to keep his physical appearance and to keep him the same age as Mikey and Mora. His personality was altered slightly, and by slightly she meant that he found a few more reasons to smile than before. Maia didn’t consider him her definition of an OC-not really-but his back-story was wiped clean, leaving his reasons for his negative attitude up to the imagination. She drew a decent drawing of him; he was smiling. She drew a white short-sleeved shirt and his hands in his pockets. Instead of his hair or a hat hiding his eyes, only his sunglasses did. After a day, she added a random design to the shirt. After two, a chain to his black pants to add to the stereotypical thuggish appearance, though not by much.

That same day, she came up with the concept of powers for him. She got the idea from his name: control over the shadows. The darkness was his to play with, whether manipulating his own shadow, someone else’s, conjuring it from thin air, or absorbing it and leaving a room completely bright. How often he used his power had yet to be decided.

Maia then drew an outline of Shade’s eyes within the sunglasses, leaving an outline of irises, despite the fact that Shade technically had none. She came up with the gag that for an explainable reason, anyone that wore his sunglasses would be able to see the outline of their eyes and irises, but not their pupils, even if they seemingly had none. That, of course, led Maia to question if Shade’s eyes needed to be changed. She felt like they should be, but was it necessary? She honestly didn’t know.

All that Maia knew was that she had a character-a perfectly intact character-and OC or not, he would have to be introduced to Mikey and Mora. This meant that he would have to be introduced the same way.

On top of that, Maia decided to change his name to Shadow. It, for some reason, sounded less intimidating than Shade. “Shade,” Maia thought, was a different person entirely.

NOVEMBER 18, 2011

Magnificent Morado and Miraculous were waiting patiently. Mikey was actually sitting with his legs crossed on the floor. He had been happy to have another boy (who, he admitted, doubled as “eye candy” for him) around. Being forced to be around two girls like them was a bit overwhelming.

Maia cracked her knuckles, which was something she rarely did. She then picked up the single new drawing that she had of Shadow, complete with a description. At the last moment, she decided to call Shadow’s uncontrollable power his “Repentance Glare.”

She held her sketchbook to the drawing of him. She had decided on whether or not to change his eyes, so he truly was complete. She smiled, and Shadow smiled right back.

She then whispered, “Shadow.”

And he appeared on the floor, his mysterious eyes covered by his sunglasses. Maia waited until she heard him take a deep breath before saying in a soft voice, “…Shadow?” Even without seeing his eyes, Maia could tell that he was staring at her, analyzing her. She could also tell that he felt nothing. “Maia.” “Yes, that’s right. I’m Maia.” The girl gestured behind her to the two siblings. When Shadow turned around to look at them, Maia said, “The girl’s name is Magnificent Morado. The boy is Miraculous.” Mora knelt down with her hands on her knees. “You can just call me Mora,” she said with a kind smile. “And you can call me Mikey,” the lavender-haired boy added. Shadow nodded, getting to his feet on his own.

“Your powers. Do you…?” Maia trailed off, unsure what to say. Shadow stared at his hand for a second. Then, a black ball appeared in his hand, and Maia noticed that the room was just a bit lighter. Shade then extinguished that same ball of dark, with none of the darkness returning to the room. He then “borrowed” Maia’s shadow and turned it into a 3-D sphere, using it to destroy the screen door in the room. “Hey!!” Maia shouted before remembering that the damage wasn’t real. Shadow didn’t respond, instead having his hand hover over his sunglasses. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to show me that power,” Maia said. Shadow dropped his hand, almost as if he was relieved.

“Welcome back to the family, Shadow. I hope that you enjoy it here,” the girl said, smiling as Shadow turned to her, emotionless yet somehow comforted by her words.

ABOUT FOUR MONTHS LATER

Maia flopped down on her bed, exhausted. She had a rough day (which could be said about all of them, considering her school was Hell). She woke up tired, missed the bus, had to worry about a test, and planned on doing her homework the next day, considering it was Friday.

It wasn’t just the physical world that wiped her out, either. Her imaginary universes that left a strain on her mind. Ideas for stories danced in her head, and her OC universe had become a bit more complex. She had just recently started creating OCs based off of her classmates Mairead and Alex, which was the main exhaustion. But Mora had become more complex, and Shadow… Oh, God, Shadow. He had changed a lot.

It had started with a dream a few days after Maia had brought him into this world. He was on a bench, she remembered, and it was sunset. He had his head in his hands, his typical stern attitude gone as he looked defeated. He was shuddering, which Maia originally thought was because he had to be cold, but that wasn’t it. He then murmured, “Why am I like this?” Maia wasn’t physically there in the dream, so she could only stay in one place and listen. He then said, “Why can’t I just tell them? Why?” Shadow repeatedly asked “why,” though he didn’t explain what the issue was. It continued like that for a while, and then he finally brought his head up to look at the setting sun. Maia could see where tears had fallen down his cheeks. He was crying. He never cried. Then he whispered, with his voice cracking slightly, “Why can’t I tell them…that I’m gay?”

And then Maia woke up.

It was strange; Maia didn’t usually have dreams that involved her OCs. They just never appeared. And for one to occur in that fashion was even stranger. It never happened. The idea of Shadow being gay stuck in her head the rest of the day, and by the end of it she gave up and made him gay. She knew that she’d think of it in her subconscious mind all the time if she didn’t.

Then on Valentine’s Day, she put her two male characters that liked guys-Shadow and Mikey-together. Once again, it was in the form of a dream. Same bench, same setting, and Shadow was in the same position, his head in his hands. Though he seemed more frustrated than upset. Maia’s dreams were often in story-form as opposed to all over the place, but it made a turn for the cliché the moment that Mikey showed up, walking next to Shadow and putting a hand on his shoulder. Shadow had flinched before lifting his head slightly. Maia could see his face go red, and even a month later she could remember how she simply thought, Oh.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mikey had asked, sitting on the bench. Shadow asked, “What do you think? I went through all this crap to hide it, and now it’s out in the open.” Maia knew right away that somehow, Shadow had been outed. It was obvious that he liked Miraculous in that moment and he found that out too. “What’re you even doing here?” Shadow asked, sounding irritated. Mikey didn’t take his hand off his shoulder. “You kinda ran out back there. Wanted to see if you were alright.” “Well, I’m not, okay? So why don’t you go back?” Mikey had paused. “Because I’m the person you need to talk to right now.” “More like the last,” Shadow had muttered under his breath. Shadow turned his head to face Mikey. “Yeah, I like you. Happy? Is this the part where you turn me down nicely, say you don’t swing that way or—” Mikey shut him up by leaning forward and kissing him. The kiss lasted a few seconds before Mikey pulled back, blushing red with an idiotic grin on his face. “I’m not gonna say that,” he said. “Just that I've always found you attractive.” Shadow was speechless. “Th-Then you—” “Bi, Shade. Bi.” Mikey cut the black-haired boy off.  The others only called Shadow by his former name when they were being serious about something. Shadow had stayed still for a second, and then smiled. He didn’t smile often. Then they kissed again, and the dream ended.

Maia woke up, thanked the Lord that she had fallen asleep next to a pen and a writing pad, wrote it down, and Mikey and Shadow were…official. It was strange that her dream was so dang sappy, but it was Valentine’s Day. Maia didn’t fail to question the coincidence, but it was at least an excuse. Shortly after that, Maia changed his name back to Shade. It had been nice for a while, but Maia often caught herself accidentally calling him Shade. He had admitted to preferring his original name, and it was around the same time that Maia started making Shade a kinder person. He cared more about others and smiled very often, being far more of an optimist than before. He had insisted on hiding his relationship with Mikey, and the African American boy reluctantly agreed. That was one trait that she hadn’t changed, even if it was a tragic one.

But Maia knew that one day Shade wouldn’t need these changes anymore. He would out his relationship and be far happier than before. She just knew it.

PRESENT DAY

Maia smiled as she finally finished her nine-page history of one of her most complex characters, feeling Shade hovering over her shoulder to read. “Shadow…God, I forgot about that…” “It sound like a name you’d give your kid brother,” Maia joked. Shade opened his mouth to speak, but Maia raised her finger. “No. No kid brothers. I’m freaking done, at least for now.” Shade attempted to pout, but started snickering instead. Maia couldn’t help but smile.

“Seriously though, Maia. Look at all this stuff that I’ve gone through.” Shade pointed to the screen. “Just look!” It was true. Over three thousand words, nine pages, and Shade wasn’t even as old as Mora! In creative terms he was four years old! Maia shrugged. “There’s a lot to say. Shade-the FIRST Shade-was a failed story concept. At first, you could say that you were that Shade walking around.” “As much as a pessimistic jerk he was,” Shade muttered. Maia snapped her fingers. “Key point: He would have said ‘pessimistic bastard.’” “Where is that Shade now, anyway?” Maia glanced at her OC. “I don’t know. By my terms, I guess you could say he’s dead, like the rest of that universe.” Shade didn’t miss how Maia’s voice had dropped. To Maia with her endless conspiracy theories, she believed that all an imaginary existence was another dimension; not as fictional as one might think. She was convinced that somewhere in the multiverse that every character she had ever created was real, and every TV show really happened, and that her OC universe-the one that Shade was in at that moment-was very close, close enough to talk to Maia through, but not close enough to be physically there. So the idea that an entire universe was gone broke Maia’s heart.

“Well, maybe you saved it.” Shade leaned a bit farther over. “You know…you created a back-story for me a while ago about where I came from. I appeared in London, and my first two friends were a boy and a girl. I wouldn’t say that the boy was my conscious, but he was a true friend, and the girl was a bit impulsive. Has it never occurred to you that maybe you revamped that universe like you revamped me?” Maia’s eyes widened a bit before smiling. “I guess that might be true. Look at you. It’s your birthday and you’re here comforting me.” “You cried on Mikey and Mora’s birthday.” Maia shoved Shade, and though she felt nothing but air, he stumbled back. “Shut up!” she exclaimed, laughing. Shade began to laugh as well.

He brought a hand through his long locks. “Really, I’m three years old. That’s old in character years.” “It really is.” Maia typed a few more sentences. She was up to ten pages and was just under ninety words away from four thousand.

“You know, you could have just tossed me away.” “That wasn’t an option, Shade. You deserved a life. And I think that my first memorable dream with an OC was about you for a reason.” “And that reason is…?” Shade could tell that his creator was getting a bit irritated. She said, “Because you were a really cool person, alright? Even now, when you’re the polar opposite of who you were, you still manage to be cool! You have controllable powers, complete with hallucinations, if you remember, you love kids and they love you, there are people out there-me included-that know your eye color and whether or not they’re black like the original Shade, but even then it’s a mystery because if someone goes through the Sin Stare they still don’t remember your eye color—” Maia noticed Shade flinch at the mention of his uncontrollable power. She touched his shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, feel ashamed of its old name. And the fact that my father is still jokingly calling it and comparing it to the Penance Stare.”


Shade managed a small smile. "That's true. And I haven't accidentally shown anyone my eyes since Double M, and even with him he wasn't affected." "Some people have all the luck," Maia said. "But seriously, I'm sure that you have far better things to do on your birthday than see me write. Grab your friends. Grab your boyfriend. I'll be on that plane in a little bit." Shade grinned. "Probably should. Even Wacky's staying put." "Then go on, 'third oldest.' I'll catch up." Shade nodded and started to fade completely fade into his own plane of existence, but not before placing a hand on Maia's shoulder and saying, "Thank you Maia."

After Shade disappeared, Maia's smile grew as she finished Shade's story (ten pages, over four thousand words) and got ready to put both it and the new drawing of Shade on dA. Then she knew that she'd probably stay all day "indoors," which meant that she would also say hi to the rest of the OCs.

...

And maybe take Shade's glasses and run.
Complex history is complex.

But in all seriousness, Shade's changed a lot since the "first" Shade, don't you agree? Happy birthday, man. :-)
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