The Ink appears in some interpretations as a man with permanently ink-stained arms and legs. He has no mouth, but his eyes are an ever shifting pool of Aspect Pigmentation, that shifts constantly. He has a seemingly infinite number of arms, and a seemingly infinite number of quills and papers in the folds of his cloak with which he is constantly writing. He has been seen with no fewer than a half dozen arms and no more than a hundred thousand.

===Before He Knewthe Hour===Excerpt from ''The Tragicall Hiftorie of One Scholar & One Soldier'', Act II, Scene 5. Author Unknown.<br>''"It SCHOLAR: Is it the change of the tides or the age? This is said not my study, I know not why. I know you leave this post too soon. ''<br>''SOLDIER: You may leave ‘long side me. You would be cared for. ''<br>''SCHOLAR: But I’ve a post of mine own to tend to. ''<br>''SOLDIER: So too long will our parting be! How can I slay the Scient clouds a world away from you?''<br>''SCHOLAR: You tempt me to desertion, but Know not that my punishment would be as Severe.''<br> <br>One day, it was said, a scholar decided to put pigment to parchment. Even as their dreams grew strange with his fervor, and a light started to shine from a fiercer place, that scholar did not stop writing. Everything they saw, everything they thought, all streamed into one furious line of ink, charcoal, chalk, and even blood if it was required. Even as a humble mortal, a fledgling Know, the young scholar teetered upon the precipice of many who tended immortality quickly. Caught between a finite Ever After and rising to a higher place, he could not decide upon which ending he wanted, so an ending was chosen on his behalf. <br><br>But this is only hearsay, fabulism, and rumor.<br> ===Long-Hood===<br>There was a great libraryLong that, to the frustration of his peers, was rather difficult to qualify, at least in term of the nature of his immortality. In He was mute as the Winter, yet constantly followed by the sound of his lifetimenever ending, fervent writing as endemic of the Heart (And yet, it didn't burna truly lamentable dancer, but simply fell according to ruin and neglectsome accounts). He stayed in was flighty and his interest was naturally of the rubbleMoth, yet his writing until could at times cut with a merciless unkindness, and his publications were in a constant state of ever-changing limbo as he chased his dreams led him to become Longinsatiable desire."'Some doubt even that publications under his many pseudonyms were even the same author, contemporary Know of the Co-writer's Covenant arguing constantly over most infinitesimal similarities and differences in the the styling, cadence, language.<br>

-The one thing that cannot be denied is the author'The Pens longevity and proliferance of their writing. Between the many texts, letters, novels, essays, Indelible'(and any other written form under the sun), Dubedat LockeIt is easy to say this particular long has easily lived for around two thousand years.

One dayIt is said as well that the Long could not decide what he wanted, a scholar decided how he wanted to put pigment to parchmentspend his immortality. Even as their dreams grew strange and <br>But<br>The world has a light started tendency to shine from a fiercer placeforce decision, that scholar did not stop writing. Everything they saw, everything they thought, all streamed into one furious line of ink, charcoal, chalk, and even blood if it was required. He wrote his way into becoming Long with the fervor of his writingsin time. ===Name-domAscension======Ascention===FNORD 

* '''Disembodied Voice of Pedantic But Technically True Corrections''' - {{Aspect|Winter}} {{Aspect|MothHeart}} What? How did this get here? Why won't they shut up? Why won't they '''leave me alone!'''

* '''Dubedat Locke''' - {{Aspect|MothSecret Histories}} {{Aspect|Knock}} - Once a distractable and eccentric playwright of ambition, his writings tell of far off places and fantastical journeys, horrid beasts and a terrifying Wood. Be careful about his publications, lest you fall in. Newly Long, he is eager to speak of his many imagined paths with anyone who would listen.

** Start Text: He speaks of a aspiring god king who built folded a grand structure of paper, the servants bipedal pets he uplifted kept to upkeep maintain it, and how to glean truths from a trove of fictions.