(Twi) Twilight XI: School Days

[Draxx]

[Fables Infodump]

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Kevin Thorn is the second of the literals, the anthromorphic personifications that represent literary devices. He is the most powerful (other then Dex (Deus Ex Machina), and Gary the Pathetic Fallacy - who is an anthropomorphic personification of anthropomorphic personifications and therefore obscenely powerful), and he represents the writer itself, thus able to make whatever he wants happen (claiming poetic license).
Mr Revise and Bookburner are his sons, Bookburner representing the destruction of stories (hence the name), Mr Revise representing the stories gradually becoming more suitable for modern generations (editing out pagan subtext and mentions of incest to start with, with the eventual goal of eliminating all superstition entirely as a long term goal, and making us into wanky rationalists).
Of course, Mr Revise doesn't just stick to stories. He changes societies and the laws of physics to his specifications as well. He's working on cutting pi to 3, no decimal places. But he is also the only reason that the world is stable enough for their to be any sort of reason to it at all, without him Kevin would have nothing to stabilize him about what can happen and what cannot, and would claim poetic license a lot more often.
There's also the Page sisters, who represent organization, and are probably what started the whole library theme going.

Archer
"You could just ask your father that." He replied reasonably. "He's got a far better idea about all of that tangled series of events than me." He replies, then the dragon arrives and he flinches. Once. But Archer does not back down, even running on empty like he is.

Kazan Smedry grabs at him, to find he's not there. Archer has stood up and, gritting his teeth, summons every scrap of energy he's managed to draw into himself, every fragment of power, and creates a pair of blades. It's about then that Smedry realizes that Archer honestly intends to fight and kill the dragon.

Archer faces it squarely, with two blades. Ascalon rests comfortably in his right hand. A long time ago, a boy in white took it, and through his deeds made it legendary. His name was Saint George, and he used it to kill dragons, when he didn't use his bare hands. The sword has not forgotten it's purpose, and even this reflection, this copy wants to be put to use. Gram appears in his left hand, heavy and built of black iron, but just as eager and keen and hungry for blood as the other.

"I'm sorry. But I'd rather kill a dragon then deal with my personal demons. For one thing, the dragon will probably put up less of a fight." Then he didn't say anything else. He was a weak servant, as servants went, and he'd always made up for it by cheating. But now, well now he was a long way from even being the man who'd dueled Sebastien. Time to reach down and find out how much of the man he'd become had been left in him, and how much had bled out with the rest of his power.

"Don't like the look of it?" He asks the dragon mockingly. "Well they like the look of you. Come get a taste, carving a hole out of you a foot wide will be the first good thing that's happened to me all day."