Pilots are crucial in the world of storytelling. They serve as initial glimpses into the creators mind; A hint at the vision they wish to express. I’ve tried explaining to my brother why pilots are usually so drastically different from the final products; Why sometimes character designs change or art direction takes a massive leap into a separate genre. I wouldn’t expect someone younger than me by five seconds to understand the world of could-be’s and never-were’s.

 

“D’s World”. Such a funny name for a place like this; Where never-were’s come to hopefully be could-be’s; Wishing sorely for a future outside of this place, this non-fictional fictional world. It's enough to drive you to madness if you think about it long enough.

 

But I say: “Why worry about stuff like that?” We’re all here for a reason, right? Maybe we couldn’t make it up there, but we still have a shot down here- Down where nobodies come to die.

 

So, why not put on a show of our own? We have the setting- This sensical nonsensical world disguised as an ever-expansive city. We have a colorful cast of characters; All rejected for not fitting their predetermined molds, their existences forced here as the repressions of great ideas. I guess all we’re really missing is the plot, but we can just wing it; “Wing it”, get it? It’s an angel joke. I’m an angel, by the way. I think my creator has a “type”.

 

For now, let’s just have fun. Let’s enjoy this; This new mode of existence we find ourselves in. Could-be’s and never-were’s don’t matter right now; For now, we all have a fresh start at something new. Another pilot, another chance. We exist on that teetering edge between greenlight and re-pitch. If we can dance on that edge for as long as possible, we’re bound to be noticed by someone.

 

So let’s teeter, for now, and forever more.

 

As my eyes were met by such a message, now too shall yours be. I’d like to welcome you, distant someone who I’ll never know.

 

I’d like to welcome you, eyes behind the veil. Welcome, as your wings fail you as mine have.

 

Welcome.

 

To D’s World.  

 

……….

Our story starts as many stories of this nature do, with a quirky introduction to our main protagonists.

 

Protagonists, plural, for this shall be a tale of a shared spotlight; One I happily share with my twin brother. Let’s start with him:

 

What can I say about someone who would be utterly lost without me. No, what couldn’t I say- that’s what I meant. Some would call me a doting older sister; Others would comment that I have a creepy brother complex. To those people, I say: Yes. Yes to all the above.

 

My brother is the only world to me. He is my only world, and I know the feeling is mutual because if it wasn’t…Well, I know that it is!

 

Meet Astral- I know you can’t see him, but just pretend I’m totally presenting him to you right now. Despite being twins, Astral’s and I’s similarities start and stop at the nose and eyes; A topic I would like to bring up with our character designer. 

 

Edgy, emo, cute little cat ears poking out of his hair-No it's not a headband, I promise; Astral is the perfect confusing mess. But that’s only on the outside. On the inside, he’s actually pretty simple: My brother likes to play video games, like a typical teenage boy. He opts to spend much of his time alone, a useless sentiment to carry when you have a sister like me! He’s usually pretty quiet, which is nice when you just want someone to shut up and listen to the sound of your voice. He’s a neat freak, whom I hate sharing a room with, but love having as a roommate- Talk about a mess of my own, am I right? My favorite feature- He’s got a cute little cat tail! I take back that threat I made to our character designer; He’s perfect!

 

Naturally, I made him carry our bags into our new home. “You’re such a big, strong man- You can do it!” I encourage him. As always, my praises were met with a roll of the eyes and smack of the teeth; Talk about rude, yeah? BUT, while my brother is lugging our life away into some wonky, lopsided “apartment”, I can give you the rundown on yours truly! Dim the lights!!!

 

The spotlight falls solely on me; An effigy who silences the world around her, stealing breaths wherever she walks. A dame of dazzling dominance; Gracing such a sad, pathetic world with her majesty. Doth these peasants truly deserve to imagine such beauty? Dare I plague their minds with such forbidden knowledge? I’mma do it anyways!

 

Devilish horns to match my brother's feline counterparts; A whipping tail defined into an arrow’s point to show off my bad side~ Impeccable fashion taste, a true lover of blazers and hoodies alike! 

 

My hobbies include long walks on the beach, ego-surfing, actual surfing, sand surfing, actually scratch this whole bit- I can’t say I enjoy surfing with a straight face!

 

I’m…a girl…and, umm, I like…girly things…yeah…is that good? I guess I like everything- I dunno! What? That’s lame? Explains what I’m doing down here, then…

 

Ah, but where exactly is “here”, I can “here” you asking! Well, my friend, the answer to that is a long and complicated story I like to call: We got kicked the fuck out and now we’re forced to live in the squalor of the city because our creator is a pile of shit good-for-nothing who can’t come up with any good or creative ideas even if you held a gun up to their head and said ‘just write something feasible, believable, and god damn achieveable for once in your pathetic life you stupid walking pile of bad ideas and terrible execution!’...It’s a one-shot.”

 

Yes’em, D’s World! At least, that’s what the sign said as we fell a bazillion miles from the comfort above, to squirm here with all the other rejects. 

 

Frankly, I’ve only ever heard rumors of this place. Where’d I hear them from? You know…the little plot birdies…Ok, truthfully, I just kind of knew when I got here. It was, like, intuitive, you know? Like breathing. I don’t ask you how you learned to breathe, so don’t question how I knew about D’s World before getting here!

 

What? Lazy writi- NO!!! Everything will make sense…eventually…Just don’t think about it and keep reading, yeah? We’re going to have a blast.

 

Man…I’ve been talking for a reeeeally long time. Let’s go check to see how Astral is doing!

 

……….

“This would go by a lot quicker if you actually helped me.”

 

My brother is such a complainer. “Azazel, come help me fold the laundry. Azazel, you can’t just leave the milk out when you’re done making cereal. Azazel, please, for the love of all that is good and acceptable in this world, stop throwing your tampons into the bathroom bin like you’ve got silly string for fingers.” It gets really annoying. Constantly bombarded by such assaults, I’ve grown a nice long list of generic excuses to take the blade fromth my throat. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: #4137-81XJ.

 

“Oh, Astral, you know I would, but, ah! I think I sprained my ankle walking on those cracked sidewalks outside…I probably shouldn’t walk on it for, like, a day.” 

 

I know it wasn’t a good excuse. The point isn’t for them to be good; It’s for them to be as asinine as possible to get Astral to roll his eyes, and become so disgusted from talking to me that he walks away. Siblings, take notes!

 

“How’d you even have time to pack so much stuff?” My whiny little brother continued in his whining. Whining whiny little whiner. “We were practically given the insta-boot.”

 

Did I mention he’s also a real drama queen? Were we kicked out with the swiftness and the quickness: Yes. Was it, and I quote, “the insta-boot”? Hardly. I had time to pack so much because I wasn’t wasting my final hours jacking away at my computer desk. Am I going to say that to him? Well, maybe I would have if I didn’t already say it to you; You don’t wanna read the same thing twice in a row, do you? I’m looking out for you, dear reader! That should show you just how upstanding of a gal I am! Thus eliminating any negative notions you may have developed towards me within the past five paragraphs or so!

 

“You can just leave my stuff there on the couch. I’ll get it when I’m done with the introductions.”

 

“Are you doing that stupid thing again?”

 

Reader, cover your ears- Ack! I mean close your eyes! No, wait, how would you know when the topic passed and it was safe to open them again?! Ok, reader, just blank out for the next few paragraphs or so! My brother is an idiot; He doesn't know what he’s saying!

 

“You’re ‘talking to the audience’ again, aren’t you?”

 

“Shut up, Astral! We just met them- I’m trying to get them to like us!”

 

“I knew it! I thought I told you to stop doing that! No one’s even listening to you!”

 

“They are too!” You’re listening to me, aren’t you reader? Don’t worry, my brother is just in denial. Ever since our OG story flopped, he’s been really insecure about the eyes on us. He’ll come to terms with your existence whenever his turn comes to MC an episode. Don’t take it too personally, ok?

 

“Does the ‘audience’ know that you still wear ‘Hello Kitty’ panties?” My brother held up my cutest little pair of undies in an attempt to embarrass me. I told you he was stupid, reader; You can’t even see them! Besides,

 

“The audience would be ecstatic to know such a fact! I’m sure they’re cursing the medium right now that they can’t see me trying them on!” Fan artists, get on it!

“You’re. Delusional. What are you and the ‘audience’ even talking about, anyways?”

 

“We are discussing today’s pilot episode! Or, at least, we were about to before you interrupted! We’ve got a short runtime, dingus! Gotta make every page count!”

 

Again, I know you can’t see him, but my brother rolled his eyes; How original. I appreciate him acting rather than speaking; Helps cut down on line usage. Although, I suppose I just kind of negated that by addressing it…And now I’m wasting characters with ellipses…And now I’m burning through lines by dragging this bit out…Damn it, I used more ellipses! Reader, go to next scene! Go to nex-

 

……….

So here we are, outside breathing in that dank city air. You know, reader, believe it or not, I’m actually excited to start a new life here in D’s World. The air just feels “electric”, you know? I’m sure that’s got nothing to do with all the downed power lines and what not.

 

The city isn’t exactly the prettiest thing to look at. It’s vibrant, it’s colorful, it's janky. It looks like a kindergartner's art project; Buildings not following a consistent theme, colors and texture just thrown together for the sake of being weird. 

 

I guess that’s what you get when you drop a bunch of abandoned ideas into one place.

 

So, about our pilot, I was thinking something simple. I want to save the beach day for next summer, but we could still do something like a Fair Day. There should be a Fair going on right now downtown. What? How do I know? You know…plot birdies…Shut up, reader! You don’t get to ask questions, mainly because I can’t actually answer them…

 

Oh man, how cool would it be if I could get you to, like, vote in real time or something on an episode idea?! That would be suuuper convenient!

 

But, since I can’t, Fair Day it is- Ouch!

 

“What the fuck!?!!” Excuse my french reader, but “Qui m’a lancé cette invitation?” 

 

Yeah, so, there’s this card on the ground next to my feet- An invitation. Now, normally I’d be ecstatic, but, you see, the thing is my dear reader, this damn card just pelted me from what felt like point-blank range; Frankly, I’m not a Happy-Hiedi about it.

 

A quick glance across the street reveals to me my adversary. A stupid french bunned babe with square-framed glasses and an obnoxious amount of green on her clothing.

 

She’s trying to tell me something from across the street. Unfortunately, I can’t hear over the sound of my seething rage.

 

“I said ‘that’s for you’- come to me and my brother’s house warming party tonight!”

“Wah!!! How the Hell did you get so close to me?!”

 

“A snap of my fingers,” A snap of her fingers, “And I can be anywhere!” And she appeared everywhere,  “Magic~”

 

“...Coooool…Question.”

 

“Wut?”

 

“Why did you hit me with this?”

 

“To make sure you got it. Trust me, you are not gonna wanna miss this party!”

 

What do you think, reader? Should I chuck this invite back into her face at true point-blank range? Rhetorical question, the answer is: Yes, because we need conflict.

 

“Owww! What the fuck!?!!”

 

“Exactly. Good day to you madame.”

 

That was kind of fun. I’m not going to look back. To tell you the truth, I really don’t want to get involved with any of these wack-a-doodles today. A pilot should be simple, and I can’t think of anything more simple than just me and my bro-bro; Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool at the Fairgrounds.

 

We’re going to go check out that Fair and- “Owwwww!!! What the fuck!?!!”

 

“You asked for it, bitch!”

 

Le gasp. “Watch your mouth, we’re wholesome here!”

 

“I don’t give a fuck what you are! Nobody, and I mean No. Body, jips Didjinny and gets to walk away after!”

 

Hey, good for you reader, you learned her name. Me? I could give less of a shit right now. “Do you even know what ‘jip’ means, brat?”

 

“It means you just stole approximately one and half minutes of my time and rising!” 

 

The annoying rando thrust her fingers to the sky; Preparing to snap, I guess. “Time to pay up, sister!”

 

Ooooo, ok-ok! Reader, do you like action in your stories? Me and my brother were more of a supernatural slice-of-life story in our past life, but we did end up in our occasional throwdown. I’ll try my best to really paint the scene. Strap in!

 

……….

The sky grew black, Hell’s pit opening to give the Devil himself a front row seat to the carnage. Crows gathered to collect the dead, for once the smoke cleared, only one would remain. 

 

My adversary stares me down, equally as determined as I. Her hands, poised to battle; Her spirit, unwavering even in the face of certain demise.

 

“You’re getting yourself into something reeeealll bad here, little missy.” I warn her, an attempt to spare my hands the bruises; The pavement, her blood.

 

The naive bun-wearing genie chuckled; A sorry choice for intimidation- Coming from one so little. “I’mma about to turn you inside-out, lady!”

 

A hopeful promise, I’m even looking forward to it. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to go all out. Let’s see if this impudent little roach can bring me back to the thrill of battle.

 

I ready my wings; Black feathers spreading into a massive wingspan, their discoloration a testament to all I’ve lost. Already, I can feel my mouth salivating. Fresh meat, fresh meat, fresh meat, the voices never stop- they know when it’s time to feast.

 

The wind blows, my wings catch the breeze; Reminiscing of the days when they soared high above all.

 

There is anticipation; There is calm. Then, I’m gone.

 

My opponent searches frantically for where I have vanished too. I could be anywhere; I could be everywhere. In the breeze. In the distant sounds of the city. In the bark of the yapping dog three doors down. But, truthfully, I don’t want to be in any of those places. I don’t need to be in any of those places. I’ve got no reason to hide. From who? From what? 

 

I’m not far away.

 

Look up, I pray that you look up, as I deliver these nasty claws upon your juicy skull; Look up!

 

Awww, but she does not look up…Not in time. My talons dig deep into her flesh; Tearing and rending, that sweet candy liquid gushes out in an eruption of crimson love.

 

It’s sweet; Who would have thought such a sour broad would have such lip-smacking blood. I savor the flavor, committing its elements to memory.

 

As I do so, my opponent stays on her feet. Admirable, she doesn’t go down easy. 

 

That held snap that we’ve all been anticipating; Finally, she releases it. I can hear them, the whir of lightning bolts hurtling to the earth.

 

I’m quick, but not quick enough. A graze of my left wing sends a shock of pain right through to my spinal column. I can only fall to the ground; Immobilized and helpless, while my enemy prepares a follow up attack.

 

The pavement beneath me rises to the sky. Chunks break away, the piece of road falling apart as if it were made from dry clay. My nerves struggle to formulate signals; My arms and legs fight to move.

 

Just as they separated into shards of black tar, the chunks of the road converged upon me, pelting my body- Snapping my bones like saltine crackers.

 

The debris stings my eyes; Glassen shards of frictioned tar scratch my coronas, veiling my vision in red...

 

So, how is it reader? This is good stuff, yeah. My eyes burn like Hell, but I’m tryi- Oh shit hold on! Tree! Tree-tree-tree-tree-treeeeeee!!!

 

My ravenous adversary, her lust for blood truly enough to match my own, proceeds to follow-up her follow-up with a feat that I’m sure the Lorax would greatly disapprove of. Arboreal giants are ripped fromth their roots, hurtled into the sky, and then chucked at my discombobulated form like verdant spears. 

 

Happy feet! Happy feet! Happy feet! Ack, I’m sorry, reader! I’m trying my best to multitask here, but this girl is really giving it to me-AAAHHHHHAA!!!

 

Meticulous hands; Hawkeye precision; I am wounded, my side gashed by the mother of all splinters. The pain is excruciating, and yet, I feel ecstatic!

 

No more defense! It was time to counter offense with offense! I ready my claws; If I can’t dodge all the trees, then I’ll simply shred them into wood chippings!

 

Like a saw, nay, a blender whose blades hold no form. The wooden spears are reduced to mere sawdust as I charge them head on.

 

My opponent looks panicked, so I guess this is as good a time as any to start talking. So, yeah, actions pretty nice, yeah? I know it’s more exciting to visually see it, but this ain’t no graphic novel. I trust you have a vivid imagination, reader. This fight can be as extravagant and as elegant as you want it to be. How did my body move around those trees? How big do you think my wings are? All these are up to your interpretation, reader.

 

My eyes focus on the prey beneath me. A babe in the woods; She’s defenseless, her stamina worn from her onslaught offensive. It’s time.

 

Text fights can look however you want them to. All you have is a few key points from the writer, and I’m sure they aren’t writing fully detailed, script-for-script battles. Well…some do, and to them I say: Nice.

 

“But, unfortunately, my dear reader,”

 

“Who the HELL are you talking to?!”

 

“When I want a battle to be short and quick, I end it!”

 

“Wha-?!”

 

She couldn’t even prepare for what hit her. Go ahead and put a big K.O. on the screen for me, because it’s a total knockout. 

 

“Tried to warn ya, squirt. Next time, go for a group text.”

 

……….

That was a shitty one-liner, I know- I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and you know, it was an invitation so, haha-funny, send a group text and…Never mind. The fight’s over, and I’m in a lot of pain.

 

Didjinny, that was her name, right? She rises from the concrete, bloody and bruised, and pissed to high Hell.

 

“This isn’t over, do you hear me! No one does this to Didjinny and gets away with it! Nobody!”

 

And with that, my fated rival disappears in a puff of smoke.

 

What a pain in the ass. So, anyways, Fair Day for a pilot: I was thinking-...What? Page limit? How many words?! B-but how?! When?! Who!?!! We didn’t even get to-...No, no I understand.

 

Ahem: I am sorry, dear reader, but it has come to my attention that we’ve hit our time limit for the day. I suppose we’ll just have to do that fair day in another episode…

 

“We can do it in my episode.”

 

Astral? Can you hear me talking to the audience?

 

“Yeah. Because I’ll be narrating next time.”

 

What?! But you don’t even like the audience! Why do we have to take turns?!

 

“To spice up the perspective a bit. Anyways, come home now please. Some runt is outside snapping her fingers and screaming at the house. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

Oh boy…this is gonna be one HELL of an environmental shift. Well, my dear reader, it was fun. You heard Astral, next episode is his episode. Don’t get your hopes up for a date or a time; We’re in D’s World, afterall! But, until then, “Merci pour la lecture!”