• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy ◟❀╎bouquet╻apps

Main
Here
OOC
Here
Characters
Here
Lore
Here
Other
Here

fluticasone

mushy canele
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Do you agree to the terms and conditions?
yes

Welcome to the
flower program
. For the next five years, you are now a
flower
, humanity's first, last, and only line of defense against
fragments
. Familiarize yourself with the
bouquet app
and its functions. This is an essential tool and your primary means of transformation. It is recommended that you keep your phone on your person at all times.

Please remember that the program is secret; if a
flower
(both active and graduated) is discovered divulging information, they are removed from the program and memories from their years in service are wiped.

For now, visit the
bouquet shop
branch nearest you. Our friendly staff will assist you in acclimating to the program and understanding the powers and responsibilities a
flower
holds. You can also meet other members of the program there.

Good luck! May flowers line your path and guide your way.


The app should ideally be kept brief as it's meant to intrigue me enough to want to know more about your character. The image doesn't have a specific size, just that it should be in portrait orientation. The image should be of the human self.

The technology is modern day, while there's additional information on our setting in the lore thread. Imagine Tiger Tail City as a melting pot, where an Indian or Polish name may cause a curious glance and nothing more. Additional information on the location will be added to the lore.

You'll find the app code in this link. Once you've received a react from me, consider your app approved and you can move onto the CS!


bouquet
IC
server
OOC
lore
apps
cs
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
flower alias
name
Last, First
age
Age (00)
pronouns
Pro/nouns
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Integer gravida interdum eros non euismod. Vivamus iaculis dolor sit amet pellentesque dignissim. Maecenas vulputate laoreet lorem sed condimentum. Donec sem orci, cursus a sapien ut, imperdiet pretium neque. Vivamus sed tellus sed ligula accumsan vestibulum. Fusce at sollicitudin est, sed pretium velit. Nulla facilisis orci varius nunc malesuada, sit amet condimentum nibh eleifend. Nunc euismod at mi quis sollicitudin. Ut porttitor massa pretium, posuere erat eget, gravida velit. Nunc nec dignissim felis. Fusce nisi velit, tincidunt non laoreet sit amet, ultricies vel leo. Morbi rhoncus, mauris sed accumsan pulvinar, quam nulla facilisis leo, at rhoncus nisl ligula eget sem. Pellentesque finibus ex ex, nec vestibulum est euismod sit amet.
Maecenas vel tempus ex. Aenean suscipit semper lobortis. Nunc eu lectus vel odio luctus cursus eu eget ante. Nulla lectus odio, laoreet a venenatis sed, ultrices vitae nunc. Nullam non diam dui. Donec imperdiet tellus vel dictum porttitor. Sed condimentum lorem et semper vehicula. Praesent bibendum ligula ut nisi fringilla venenatis. Sed aliquet ac erat pulvinar rutrum. Integer venenatis tellus nunc, eget ornare nisl varius ut. Etiam elementum ut elit eu fringilla.
Aliquam sollicitudin, nibh nec varius ornare, justo quam maximus justo, quis interdum libero tellus vitae urna. Duis posuere eros odio, ac pharetra sapien dictum a. Praesent velit ipsum, suscipit nec accumsan eget, congue in mauris. Nunc sed neque nec tellus dignissim ullamcorper. Curabitur pellentesque hendrerit eros a tincidunt. Etiam eget mattis neque. Cras eu elit sed tellus tincidunt placerat sed sit amet est. Fusce diam arcu, faucibus eu nisl sit amet, suscipit ultrices elit.
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
carnation
name
Sterling, Sophia
age
Age 20
pronouns
She/her
Born into an ordinary life like many ordinary girls, Sophia Sterling spent her youth in various pursuits, spending time with her friends and doing her best to enjoy life as it lay before her, not too worried about the future, or motivated to place many concrete goals for the future. But deep inside, she wished for something a little more. A dream, perhaps, of showing the world what she could really be, and to win their respect and...adoration in return. She wanted to become famous.
She talked about her wish to her friends, and laughed it off when they did, too. But what she said spread around, as rumors tended to, and one day she was approached by a charming, well-connected former schoolmate, a rich heir to his family's fortune and businesses in the entertainment industry. He promised her the world, with both of them conquering it, him as the manager behind her back. All she had to do is follow his plan...a plan that involved vocal training, schmoozing, and...just a bit of plastic surgery to get the right look. A nip here, a tuck there, an injection or two...
Things did not go very much according to plan, and when Sophia woke up from the final surgery, she did not look very much like what she was expecting. In the space of hours...her dream was ruined. And so was her love. She never saw the lover who had promised her the world again, and she drove herself into isolation, thinking herself unsightly. For the next year or so she languished in misery, never able to recapture her smile. After all, who would want to see someone like her smile?
But when she received the Bouquet app, something resembling hope appeared. Her wish is yet uncertain, but she is sure of one thing, the thing from which she draws her strength: she will not allow herself to be deceived and taken advantage of ever again, nor put her faith in those who will abandon her.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Snow drop
name
Kyeon, Nabi
age
19
pronouns
She/Her
Personality: Nabi usually comes off as aloof. Her expression rarely changes and her way of speaking stays rather monotonous and blunt. Despite how she seems, Nabi is optimistic, hardworking and kindhearted. She enjoys helping people whenever possible to the best of her ability. She's a tad gullible- she's a fast learner, though there's quite a lot of concepts she doesn't understand and she wants to take words at face-value.
Backstory: Nabi doesn’t remember much of her past. Even fairly recent events seem to have several gaps in them. The first thing she remembers is waking up in a cold, empty hospital room in the middle of winter and wandering off to her home- almost as if the place had a meaning to her back then. The people around her also seem to be confused from time to time- as though they too have forgotten something important. These people- who claim to be Nabi's family- say that Nabi was on the brink of death, but recently got better as though she was never sick at all. Although Nabi barely remembers them, they treat her as an entirely different person who they love and care for. Nabi wishes to repay back their kindness as doing so brings her joy, and she hopes to one day remember them as they do her.
Her wish is to receive her lost memories. Although, she also wants the strength and skill to help those in need even after she's graduated, so she's having trouble wording her wish to include both concepts.
Transformation: Snowdrop receives snowflake-shaped shurikens and two thin longswords when transformed. Both longswords can drop miniature bombs which all have a very small blast radius and blue smoke. Even when transformed Snowdrop doesn’t have much strength compared to the others; she makes up for this flaw with incredible speed and positioning. Her powers aid her in this; she can summon sheets of ice, hail, and winds which she uses to coerce her enemies into specific directions and position herself where needed.
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Rafflesia
name
Mirror, Mariana
age
Age 18
pronouns
She/her
Black waves reflected the crimson red of the sky. Mari felt wet sand under her soaked clothes. A sandbar in an endless sea of black and red waves. They toiled and thrashed around, the spray filling the air and misting Mariana. The seas around the sandbar were calmer. They lapped at her legs. The water was warm… Hot, even. A thick smell of iron filled the air. She felt scared. Terrified. A dread indescribable. However, something told her to let it happen. Let the waves swallow her up. If she just gave in, she would be fine… She closed her eyes, and the waters became more violent, eating away at the sandbar. Mariana closed her eyes…
”Drag me in, take me under.” … “Tides close in, taking me under,” The lines upon the sands faded, losing their form to the sea. Something told her, these waves would wash away the stains. Would bring her to a state of purification and catharsis. “I give in.” The fragment smiled.
Mariana was 8 when she awoke from her living nightmare. Black waves reflected the crimson of a fire aboard her family’s leisure vessel, “The Umpqua.”. Mari felt wet sand under her soaked clothes. A sandbar in an endless sea of black and red waves hosted the burning vessel, turning everything around it in the night red. The seas around them were calm. They lapped at her legs. The water was warm… Hot, even. A thick smell of iron filled the air. She felt scared.Terrified. A dread indescribable. However, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. If she closed her eyes, she would be fine… So that’s what she did.
It was a freak accident. A dead head in the boat’s path ripped it open, rupturing the fuel tank. It then drifted until beaching itself on a sandbar. Mariana was the only survivor… The child moved from the hospital to an orphanage. Then from home to home. But it seemed bad luck followed her everywhere. Accidents would follow her. Just as sure to arrive as the sun was to set. Mariana would soon start distancing herself from everyone she could. She became shy, regretful, and guilty. She hated the misfortune she brought to everyone around her. She grew up sweet and caring, wanting to offset the hurt she caused by helping where she could. But she tried to stay away, and help from a distance. This made her incredibly shy and socially awkward. By age 16, she had gone to fully online classes, and all her hobbies were now online, so as to not hurt anyone. She started drawing, and became good enough by age 17 to leave the orphanage by herself, surviving off of commissions and other online jobs like tutoring and troubleshooting. Mariana assumed her life would stay like this. Cramped in her tiny studio apartment, no friends, family, or single person to see and interact with. Until she received a text message… Something about that information seemed familiar… She felt as if something within that revealed something within her own life. But at the same time, she had no idea what it was. Mariana had a gut feeling…
So she tapped “Accept.”.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Foxglove
name
Kurogane, Kenji
age
19
pronouns
He/Him
Kenji Kurogane's life story unfolds in a gritty and unforgiving backdrop. His journey is marked by resilience, determination, and a transformation that takes him from rebellion to redemption. Born into a poor family in a neighborhood plagued by crime and poverty, Kenji's early years were anything but normal. He displayed a rebellious spirit from a young age, often skipping school and falling in with a rough crowd. This path led him into the treacherous world of criminality, a descent into darkness that would test his mettle.
Kenji's mother, a single parent who worked tirelessly to provide for him, watched with a heavy heart as her son's life spiraled out of control. Despite her unwavering love and guidance, Kenji joined a local gang during his teenage years, plunging deeper into a world of illicit activities and violence. It was a choice that would leave an indelible mark on his life and test the limits of his resilience.
However, fate had more in store for Kenji than a lifetime of crime. A devastating moment arrived when he returned home to find his mother in a coma, her life hanging in the balance due to a mysterious disease. The weight of his mother's condition, coupled with the guilt he felt for his actions, forced Kenji to make a decision, it was his turn to look after her. He decided to sever ties with the gang and embark on a relentless journey of hard work to support his comatose mother.
Kenji's life became a whirlwind of exhausting days and even more grueling nights as he juggled odd jobs and the pursuit of an education to provide for his ailing mother and pay for her medical bills. His fighting skills occasionally drew him back into the criminal world, where he reluctantly used his abilities to protect himself and those he cared about. The struggle to balance his newfound determination with the shadows of his past was a constant battle that tested his resolve.
In the midst of this turmoil, the Bouquet app mysteriously installed itself on Kenji's phone, presenting him with an otherworldly opportunity to become a Flower. This enigmatic offer opened the door to save his mother, but Kenji knew nothing was ever that simple and a five year contract awaited him before he got his wish. Kenji stood at a crossroads, torn between the darkness of his past and the promise of a new beginning, a chance at redemption, a chance to make up for all his wrongdoings.
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
LOTUS
name
EL SHERIF, CHIONE
age
18
pronouns
SHE/HER
Sobs echo through the large empty house on the corner of Philadelphia St. and Saint Anne Boulevard as the setting sun dips below the horizon. Within, a young woman in a ratty dress lay curled up into a ball. Hopelessness welled up inside of her like grease, thick and viscous in such a way that it clogged her heart. Something twisted in her gut, begging to be let loose. The woman cringed as she felt something slip past the veil of her eyelids, something with more weight than the tears that had flowed before. She brought a hand to the unfamiliar fluid, pulling back as the midnight ooze coated her hand. She resisted the urge to scream if only to keep the ooze from getting into her mouth. Her head felt heavy and her vision began to blur as shadows danced around her- mostly the cha cha slide, but one rebel was doing the thriller.
The man slipped soundless through the open window on the second floor, phone in hand. He could hear a woman sobbing from below, she must be what the Bouquet app had been warning him about. He crept down the stairs without making a sound, peeking around the corner when he reached the base.
In the living room, crumpled in a heap, was a shadowed figure. There wasn’t a single light on in the house to illuminate it’s form as his eyes struggled to adjust. Whoever lived here had clearly been wallowing alone in the dark when the Fragment had overtaken them. The creature that had once been human raised it’s tear-streaked face, frantic eyes soaring around the room before landing on him.
The monster wept tears of black ooze, echoing the moonless night in their darkness. It raised a single tattooed hand, and so too did the symbols spread across It weep as a single finger unfolded in his direction.
“Now that is just creepy” the man complained, giving up on the stealthy approach as he went for Plan B- also known as Plan Bum-Rush the Freaky Thing, or Plan BRFT.
Good ‘ol plan burft was always a winner, give or take a black eye. Helping himself to the fridge, the man nursed his eye with a frozen stick of butter. He figured letting him take a measly stick of butter was the least she could do, now that he would be showing up to his date with a black- and buttery- eye to show for his heroism.
Chione stirred to the sound of a jar shattering, her nose scrunched up as the smell of pickle juice wafted into it. She pushed herself off the ground, blowing a mess of hair out of her face. Her cheeks felt wet, a reminder of events past. It was then her eyes settled on the shattered jar of pickles on her kitchen floor, resting at the feet of a man she had never seen before.
Chione was quick to wipe away the tears in her eyes when she realized she wasn’t alone, leaping to her feet and glaring defiantly at the man. “What are you doing in my house?” she demanded, grabbing the first thing within grabbing distance- a jolly snowman figure about the size of a TV remote- and brandishing it like a weapon. “Did he send you?” her words dripped with venom, marking anyone sent by the man in question worse than a stranger breaking into her home.
An alert sounded from her phone and panic shot up her spine. He wouldn’t be coming back so soon, would he? Shaky hands pulled the phone from her pocket, nearly dropping it. On the screen was a single notification informing her that a new app had been successfully installed; Bouquet. What was it she wondered, some trick by her step-father? Some new way to ensure his control over every aspect of her life?
“What do ya’ know” the man observed with a whistle, bending down to pick up the shattered pieces formerly known as pickle jar. “Go on, open it up”
--------
Two days later Chione sat in a coffee shop overlooking the river, eyeballing a crepe as if she hadn’t eaten in months. She swiftly swept the delicious treat into her mouth, letting out a soft hum as her eyes drifted closed and the sweet taste sent a warm tingle down her spine. “Okay,” she relented, “you are, begrudgingly, forgiven”
“For saving your life” the man pointed out, a single brow raised in amusement at her words- and the way she had managed to scarf down her entire crepe before he got a single bite in.
“No,” she began chidingly, taking the time to scoop up a dash of spilled whipped cream with her finger and polish it off, “for breaking my pickle jar
 

Attachments

  • 759718b077fc2e3ee3c05ee895c4307c.jpg
    759718b077fc2e3ee3c05ee895c4307c.jpg
    139.7 KB · Views: 518
fontcall fontcall fontcall
buddleia
name
Fortuyn, Cedar
age
Twenty-Eight (28)
pronouns
She/Her or They/Them
cw // mentions of body dysmorphia
Bouquet came into Cedar's life the day she metamorphosized.
She'd always felt wrong. Doing the wrong things, dressing the wrong way, or being with the wrong people. She never understood it herself; she had decent parents and a happy (if a bit sheltered) upbringing. She felt trapped in her own skin, suffocating to the point of breaking. There was always a wish inside her to have been born different, though she never could put to words what exactly it was.
University was her catalyst for change, and here she finally put a name to the burden she carried on her shoulders. Away from the loving but tethered care of her family, she learned about herself. She didn't, and never had, fit in the box she'd been shoehorned into at birth. The knowledge was almost a curse; what used to be an unsettled feeling now made her want to rip out her own skin. The journey to leave it wouldn't be an easy one. A tumultuous trek with the final destination as... herself. Still the same Cedar, still with the same faults, still with the same desires.
Just more of her.
The day she accepted the long road ahead of her, she bloomed.
On her final year as a Flower, she's no longer the fresh-faced education graduate who had stars in her eyes and hope in a jar. She's far from jaded however; being surrounded by children whose dreams were larger than the world made it difficult to lose all optimism. Cedar's pragmatic approach to life and firm but kind nature has made her the adopted big sister of the local Flowers.
As for her wish? Let's just say that the past few years have given her enough time to think, and she knows what to ask for when the time comes.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Gold of Kinabalu
name
Gray, Isis
age
21
pronouns
She/her
What do you give a girl who has everything?
For many, this is a difficult question to answer.
Isis was raised under her family’s fortune. From prominent business owners to full-blown celebrities, money was raking in from all sides of the tree. Of course, this is to say Isis and her relatives were all household names.
From day one, Isis was under the spotlight. This was the same for her siblings before her, and her siblings after. “Normal” was not a lifestyle they knew.
She went to school every day and did her homework and lived as normal of a life as she could, but there was always something going on in the background. Whether that was getting placed in roles as an actress or having singing lessons pushed on her, she didn’t really get to have a life that many other kids did.
That wasn’t to say she didn’t enjoy herself.
No, in fact, not being privy to the rest of the world lent itself to be quite a wondrous time.
She had many artistic skills that others did not. Networking and making connections was easy. Almost as easy as all the lies and false promises she’d learned to tell. And, best of all, they had lots of money to fall back on.
Really, there was only one con she could think of.
The spotlight itself.
Having all eyes on you, having the world know your name, having never known the idea of privacy, was, ultimately, unfavorable. There were too many people judging her for simple mistakes, too many pictures of her online, too many times had she’d been recognized on the street whilst she was just trying to get a coffee. Too many, too many, too many.
Fame, in and of itself, was a curse.
A curse so detrimental that all that Isis could wish for was to be erased from the public eye. Start all over as a nobody, and forget all the memories that came with fame.
She could be a whole new person.
What do you give a girl who has everything?
The answer is quite simple: nothing.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
anemone
name
Hunt, Willard
age
Twenty-Four (24)
pronouns
He/Him
Will is no stranger to fights. Whether it was fighting his brother for a toy, fighting a classmate to be king of the hill, or fighting with his shampoo bottles for ideological supremacy he refuses to back down until his points are made clear. Contrary to the slick lawyer stereotype, he cares less about decorum and more about exchanging ideas. There's a rigor to his speech, speaking as though each word was handpicked for maximum impact. He despises weasel words and vague platitudes, cutting through people's waffling not with a sword, but a scalpel.
In his desire to be heard, Will becomes blind to the feelings of others and must be yelled at asked to consider whether a battle is worth picking. In those moments he finds himself at a loss, not because he might be wrong (he's fine with being corrected), but because none of that erases the people that he's hurt. Though he could play himself off as "brutally honest," his morals prevent him from ignoring his missteps.
Prior to becoming a Flower, Will was a law student with hopes of becoming a defense attorney once he graduated. Despite growing up in an upper middle class home (or perhaps because of it), he sought out companiomship with the misfits, the downtrodden, and the odd balls of his district. At first, it was a fascination with people living "differently" than him but as he became older, he began noticing the socioeconomic divide between himself, his friends, and society in general.
As a teenager he became more involved in his community...if you count posting online as involvement. While he signed petitions, spread awareness through his blogs, and joined community service clubs, much of the issues he saw existed in the abstract. Though he wrote at length on the subject, he always seemed to find an excuse flake on important events. He would donate to causes sure, but protesting on a Saturday? He had a concert to attend.
If you asked him what he thought of himself seventeen years ago, he would say he was full of shit.
His best friend was at the wrong place at the wrong time. On his way home from not, he discovered a group of students trying to cover up the death of one of their pledges. Though he tried to report the incident to the campus authorities, the guilty students used their connections to pin the incident on him entirely. Combined with the drugs discovered in his apartment, it was easy to paint him as a deranged addict.
Spurned by the unjust charges, law school became Will's number one priority. If he could become an attorney, he could become the paragon he painted himself as.
Unfortunately, law school wasn't remotely similar to undergrad. Spoiled brats, opportunists, and a cutthroat environment took a toll on his mental health, but more than that was the summer he worked as a paralegal. As he pored over documents and watched his superiors struggle he realized that their license wasn't a key, but a shackle. They were forever bound to work within a system stacked against them. Will considered quitting the field entirely until Bouquet installed itself on his phone.
Though he has his doubts about the Flower program, he can't turn down the opportunity to protect humanity nor the wish at the end of his service.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
crown imperial
name
Yildiz, Gunay
age
20
pronouns
They/Them
Gunay is a mischievous and enthusiastic drifter who’s constantly on the run- from something or to something. With their (former?) job as a waiter being the only consistent thing about them, Gunay is often wandering around ever nook and cranny of the city, mostly fraternizing with street vendors and buskers. A spontaneous burst of energy, they often spew out words they don't really mean or act impulsively in ways that will cause them more trouble than it's worth. This could range from flirtatiousness and playful vexation to lashing out in anger.
Despite their carefree and reckless behavior, Gunay possesses an uncanny ability to read people. They have a keen eye for observing the emotions and motivations of others, often picking up on subtle cues that most people might overlook. On one hand, it allows Gunay to connect with people on a deeper level and understand their needs and desires with remarkable accuracy. But on the other hand, it makes their emotional response even more scathing, as they're quick to expose vulnerabilities or manipulate situations to their advantage. They truly never wanted to make enemies out of anyone, but their pride hinders their ability to apologize properly.
Underneath the bravado lies a deep-seated fear of abandonment and need for approval. Because of this, they would constantly put up a front around their peers, even around things and situations that make them uncomfortable. Ironically, this also leads to them cutting others out of their lives without any closure, believing that it's greater to leave than to get left behind. Perhaps it's their desire for safety that led them to self-sabotage their relationships and prospects, as well as move from place to place due to not having a fixed home.
The day that the Flower Program came to Gunay's life was also one of those times. Gunay shared a communal home with a group of college and high school students, who either couldn't afford to dorm or ran away from home. One night, they were the only one awake while everyone else was sleeping. Scrolling through their phone, Gunay noticed an app they had never downloaded before. Weird... had their memory gotten worse or did one of their friends do it on their behalf? They were amused by the little mini-comic at the intro and was ready to agree to the terms and conditions, thinking it was some sort of game... except the terms and conditions weren't the only ones that were included, but also a five-year contract and a promised wish.
Why are they the one given an opportunity to be a magician? They would be the last person to risk their life, let alone do it continuously for half a decade. But if there's a chance they can finally change their situation, they'll take it.
...
...
Gunay is about to realize they couldn't run away any longer.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Rose
name
Everly, Petra
age
20
pronouns
She/Her
Petra's family cherish, loved, and adored her. They were constantly looking out for her and always checking in. If they even thought something was wrong, they'd ask about it or try to discuss it. She loathed it. It was suffocating to her. Instead of caring, it felt like they were monitoring her every move as if they couldn't trust her to make her own decisions. Petra grew agitated at this more and more, often avoiding going home. Petra either stayed at school clubs or slept over at a friend's house, but she knew she'd be barraged with questions when she got home. But, because of this, Petra inevitably experienced a lot more by staying out so late, having various random knowledge stored from after-school events and clubs.
Another reason Petra disliked her family's constant hovering is thanks to the heavy influence of the typical independent heroes in movies and shows. She always wanted to be that cool lone hero who saves the day. Constantly looking up to their selflessness and ability to push past all struggles by sheer determination made her heart race. Petra was determined to act cool like those heroes, often calling anything she deemed unfit to her ideal "lame" like her family. This behavior continued till tragedy struck. One of her fathers died in a work accident due to gross negligence. She found out three days later.
There was a large court case because of the prominence of the CEO. Unfortunately, the legal team of seven people waved the charges down to a fine of five thousand, barely a slap on the wrist. Though, no amount of money could've fixed what they lost. Petra expected this, waiting outside the courthouse that was surrounded by cameras. Despite being told to do nothing stupid, she couldn't resist, especially after seeing the verdict. So, when the CEO exited the courthouse, Petra ran up and slammed her fist into that murderer's face. She doesn't recall what happened after that, but she could feel her fist still stinging the next day and somehow got off without charges.
Things at home were tense for a little while after that, but she started being kinder to her family. Yet their constant checking was still a pain, and she actively avoided doing anything to draw attention to herself. She often helped out around the house if they needed anything, trying to make up for being so harsh to her family when she was a kid.
And as for her now? Petra is currently a college student dorming and sometimes studying. She often visits her father's grave to lay a singular rose from his garden, still kicking through family efforts. Petra is still obsessed with being cool and kept that annoying habit of calling everything lame, but she avoids calling people themselves lame unless they deserve it. She's often gullible if the lie sounds cool and not the wisest, but her heart is always close to the right place. Petra also tends to sweep herself and others up in her careless actions, too confident to consider if an idea is stupid. Naturally, she didn't even have to think before agreeing to the terms and conditions of this magical contract.
(Art Taken From: ElaraArt)
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Magnolia
name
Hart, Anthony
age
24
pronouns
He/Him
Anthony stood still; looking up until his neck ached in protest just to see the head of the monster that’s slowly marching towards him. Each step, the ground quaked, vibration travelling through his body before settling as a shiver down his spine. His heart soared and plunged, threatened to burst out of his chest and unmoving. Whether it was because of fear or excitement, it didn’t matter as it still flooded his veins with adrenaline. This is it. This is what he was made for. What he was meant to do. The monster took another step and Anthony followed. The ground once again shook, but the rest was silent. Nonetheless, he could still feel the suspense, the jitter of the world as it waited his next move with bathed breath. The anticipation. The silence that came before the storm, before the universe bursts into life. Then there was—
The sound of a stack of paper slamming on his desk took Anthony out of his daydream. He looked up from where he was staring to see one of his co-workers looking at him with an eyebrow raised in question.
“Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?” They asked, tone tinged with humour. “Anyways, there has been change of plans. Ron called in sick, so naturally we have to compensate for that. With us being a family and all.” They weren’t even trying to hide the sarcastic remark.
“But—” Anthony was about to complain, but they cut him off before he had the chance to.
“Look, I know. I hate it as much as you do. I only had a couple of things to do before I’m done for the day, but what can I say? Company policy and all that bullshit.” They said with the confidence of someone with the security of tenure. “Here’s to another day of staying in the office for gods knows how long.
Instead of working however, Anthony went to his email drafts with the subject line ‘Resignation Letter’. He had made the draft months ago, but he could never find it in him submit it. Today, however, was the last straw. The pay was decent, at least. His cursor slowly made its way to the button. The office is also pretty close to my apartment. As he was about to click send, one final thought stopped him in his tracks. If I endure for one more year, I’ll get promoted.
Anthony looked at the stack of paper in silent defeat, before taking the one at the top.
God I’m pathetic.
The monotonous sound of the keyboard and the constant hum of the air conditioner made his mind wander.
Anthony could feel the wind rush through his body as the monster raised its hand in preparation for an attack. His body emitted a subtle glow in response to the threat. The gigantic size of the monster made it look like the attack was in slow motion, but he could already see the havoc that it will bring. Anthony quickly summoned—
He was once again taken out of his fantasy by the sounds of multiple chairs moving and the once silent office was filled with chatter. He scanned the room in confusion before his eyes landed on the clock. It’s lunchtime. He looked back at the stack of papers earlier to see the little progress he made. It seemed like he was going to skip lunch if he wanted to finish it all by 5.
Anthony rests his head on his table, groaning in the process. Multiple times, has he wished that life would be different. He blamed it all on the books he’d read growing up. Filling his mind with magic, adventure, and whatever nonsense that got his hopes up. It has gotten to the point where he would unconsciously daydream of scenarios way outside the scope of reality on the regular. While it was a quick reprieve to the monotonous cycle of his life, he still had to return to the real world, and it made it much more unbearable. Still, a part of him yearned for that impossible reality. That there has to be more to life than... this. An entire new world that’s not confined in his head.
Anthony laughed at the thought and went back to work. As he was about to reach for another piece of paper, his phone’s notification went off which was weird. He always made sure to put his phone in silent during work. Still, he shrugged it off. It was already clear that he’s more distracted today than usual so he might have just forgotten. Anthony reached for his phone to put it on silent when the notification stopped him in his tracks. Boquet? He didn’t remember downloading any app with a name like that. Again, curiosity got the best of him—it was also an excuse to procrastinate—and he opened it with one quick tap, not knowing that the app would change his life forever.
[/div]
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
lily of the valley
name
Cucinotto, Letizia
age
twenty-one (21)
pronouns
they/them
Family always comes first, and family is more than just blood. Letizia comes from a large loud Italian family who ran a local Italian restaurant and market, and she was the youngest of 5 children. Life was consumed by food, work, and most importantly, family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents were always around, and there was never a quiet moment or any sense of privacy but they wouldn't have it any other way. They loved their family and the work they did, growing up and learning how to cook from their grandmother and mother, always wanting to help. They had that addictive giggle that would always brighten the room up just a little bit more. The family's sunshine is what many called them, especially when their older siblings were 4 older brothers, all very protective of their little sister, and they never knew a day when they didn't feel safe at home.
Yet good things could only last for so long, as 10-year-old Letizia discovered. They and many of her family were working in the restaurant, a big holiday coming up and they were preparing orders ahead of time, and by this point, Letizia had become quite the chef, just lacked the height and finesse older people had but it was still, considerably impressive. One moment, they were peeling boiled potatoes, the next moment, their ears were ringing, and they were on the floor, one of their brothers on top of them, shielding the little sibling from what they could only assume was an explosion, and soon, an oil fire erupted. The ringing died down and the frantic and panicky shouts of the Italian family could be heard, as they and their brother got up, looking around the now-burning kitchen. Their brother tried to shield their eyes by it was too much to cover. Frantically, Letizia was ushered out, too shocked to even cry, and soon taken away across the street by an aunt, standing with other younger cousins, as the fire truck could be heard, neighbors and other business owners nearby looking at the disaster that had just struck. This wasn't normal, this shouldn't have happened, and even they knew that yet at the moment, it was getting the family out first that mattered. When the fire trucks arrived, the fire soon was put out, and injured bodies were taken away in ambulances, and everyone else was checked to make sure there were no injuries. It was all a blur for Letizia, the older family members discussing quietly amongst themselves, and what happened next no one could have seen coming. Many were lost in the fire. Letizia lost their mom, but also 2 brothers, their one large family now much smaller, along with a few aunts and uncles, and worse of all, a few younger cousins that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a tragedy for the business and or the family, with no clear way to recover, and the sunshine of the family, Letizia, couldn't shine bright enough to cheer people up, causing the sun to be covered by dark clouds and a depressive gloom to fall over everyone.
Things never recovered from the incident. It was later revealed that one of the family members got mixed up in the mob and they had it out for their family as they intentionally caused the gas explosion, yet, there was nothing they could do about it. The police forces tried but, it was a slow success, and not enough to make up for the losses that were had. The family tried to rebuild, and Letizia tried to smile, but it was no hope. Years went by as the business was built again, and the tight-knit family wasn't as close, everyone blaming everyone else. Letizia only wanted everyone to get along again, but no one would listen, and soon, they began to shut out their own family too, entering a rebellious phase in high school, not helping the family out, and spending nights partying late. They thought this was life, until late junior year, when their dad soon died from a "freak car crash" (it was the mob again) when working late at the restaurant, also the business owner. Once again, the family was lost, but never for long as finally, Letizia, and her 2 brothers took over the business and reached out to the cousins, taking over the jobs their aunts and uncles once had, and the family, became close once more. Letizia especially took a lot of the weight, skipping out on college to work full time in the restaurant and becoming the head chef of the kitchen, other cousins married and had their own children, even their own brother, and Letizia was the one to begin to teach then the recipes, and even going as far to actually write them down for once. Things were beginning to look up, and returning to something more familiar.
However, things never change, and history repeats itself, and Letizia is working late preparing for the next day when a crash comes from the dining area. With a knife in hand, they went to investigate to come face to face with 2 burly men, guns in hands, leather jackets, loose button-down shirts, hair slicked back, and sunglasses covering their faces. Letizia wasn't going to let them ruin things when good things were beginning to happen again. So, they did what their family in the past didn't or couldn't do. Fight back. Shortly afterward, bloodied, and hurt, but victorious, their phone buzzed and that's when they saw an app was installed. Once looking at it, they had looked at the mob members they barely won against and it only made sense. They had to become stronger, and a wish could go a long way to protect their family, so, they clicked yes and left the restaurant.
-------- Art by: BellaBlues / BluesBlue
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Protea
Last, First
Ruzicka, Beladusa
age
Eighteen (18)
pronouns
She/her
Thomas Ruzicka was an ordinary man, with an ordinary family. A wonderful wife, an educated daughter and an old dog. He owned a small antiques business just off the highway into town, a homely two story building, of which him and his family resided upstairs. Ruzicka's Beautica's- Antiques selling and restoration. The business barely stayed afloat most months, but Thomas never really seemed to care- he wasn't doing it for the money. People often called him strange for finding such passion in the old knick knacks in which her peddled, but his candid love for his art won hearts over with ease. Those around him described as a ray of sunshine and a pillar of stability. He lived for his family, and the work he loved. But this isn't about Thomas Ruzicka-
Beladusa Ruzicka looked up from her notes. Above her the old fluorescent lightbulb flickered, sending shadows of piled antiques dancing across the wall of the basement storage room. Beladusa didn't pay it any mind, shuffling closer to the corkboard in front of her. Once it pinned up important business papers and certain reminders, but now all it held was the fruits of Beladusa's fervent will. Photos, newspaper clippings, printed articles and written accounts were scattered in organized chaos across the board, all connected in a mess of string. She gingerly plied a photo from the wall- a family photo. Her family photo. It was a shoddy take on digital camera, never even meant to be printed. Even so it seemed to shine between her fingertips. Beladusa brushed a finger across her fathers visage, his hearty smile, his tired yet watchful eyes his mess of fraying hairs with greying ends hastily hidden. Beladusa frowned and pinned the image carefully back onto its place on the board. Then she turned back to her notes.
-This is about the murder of a Sarah Goldman, late Ex-Wife of Thomas Ruzicka and beloved member of the community. A woman taken before her time in a crime of passion during an altercation with her Ex-Husband. Except it wasn't. Thomas Ruzicka wasn't that sort of person, there wasn't even any animosity between him and the victim. Thomas Ruzicka was framed, and all you fools fell for it. You put an innocent man away for a crime he couldn't commit, and I-
Beladusa ripped the page from her notes and flung it to the trash. It wasn't good enough, she could do better. A serious expression fell upon her as she turned back to the corkboard. The killer is still out there, it isn't her father. He couldn't have done it. She would prove it, get him out of that cell and back home. She would find the man who killed her mother, and framed her father. She would prove her fathers innocence no matter what it took, no matter how far she had to look, no matter how long it would take. No matter what she had to sacrifice.
Then, there standing in the musty basement in the dead of night, she got a notification on her phone.
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Lobelia
name
Sokolowski, Felix
age
Twenty-Three (23)
pronouns
He/Him
“Dear Mr. Sokolowski,
Congratulations! It is a great pleasure to inform you that the committee has reviewed your application and admitted you for Fall 2XXX.
This year’s review of Early Action applicants was an intensely selective process, and we took great care to…”
The crisp parchment fell from his shaking hand, hypnotically swinging back-and-forth until it softly slid to a stop upon lacquered mahogany. Seafoam green eyes remained transfixed upon the letter, but they were devoid of the triumphant elation expected of such a joyous occasion. During a moment where most hopeful applicants found themselves breathing easy, he felt that horrifying weight which had settled upon his chest so many years ago tighten its vicious grip. It was another step ticked off of the checklist whose items were dictated by everyone except the subject in question. Another four years of following the plot someone else had written for him.
When his family congratulated him for a job well done, he drew a foolish smile upon his obedient mask. Swallow down those unspeakable words. Lock away your complaints. Nothing they give you is poisonous. If something is unpalatable, it’s a problem with you and not them.
He abided by those ironclad rules for eighteen years. Then, a mere month into his first semester away from their watchful gaze, he finally bent under the pressure. It was a day like any other: slightly cloudy, comfortably cool, and full of birdsong. The previous day hadn’t presented any profound revelations, and the morning alarm still rang at 6:59AM on the dot. The only difference was that when he opened his eyes, he didn’t immediately get up to gather up his toiletries and head off to the communal bathroom. He just gazed blankly at the sterile, white ceiling. And stared. And stared.
On the days he couldn’t bring himself to crawl his way out of bed, he skipped classes. On the nights when his thoughts became unbearably noisy, he accepted the invitations of the acquaintances who enthusiastically pulled him away for a night of drinking. His facade of a picture perfect honors student rapidly fell apart, at times growing irascible enough to get involved in fights. However, whenever those alarmingly low numbers stared him down from their place behind a computer screen, his sense of self-loathing only grew.
“You should see a therapist.”
Those words first came from one of the few people he could consider a close friend, someone he associated with past the occasional polite exchange over text. The advice was sudden but not spoken lightly. However, it was a piece of advice he easily dismissed. Sure, he’d run into a bit of a rough patch, but his entire past, present, and future were otherwise perfect. Something about their expression told him they weren’t quite convinced, but they didn’t press him any further.
It was only when his advisor provided him with the same suggestion at the end of the term that the concept became a consideration. However, the nails that dug harshly into his shoulder when he dared utter such a preposterous proposition made it crystal clear that the mere thought was a mistake.
“You’re not crazy,” his mother hissed.
All he could do was nod along, laughing it off as if he’d simply told her a poorly-worded joke.
That day, he discovered that it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to veer off the track they’d set down for him. He was just a coward. He wanted to run, but if he were to be cast aside, where would he go?
Thus, he busied himself with working hard to perfect his grades in a school he never wanted to attend. He scurried around currying favor during his classes and clinicals in a nursing major he could care less about. He sacrificed sleep for the sake of scoring well on an admissions exam that would determine whether or not he’d be accepted into the medschool his father had picked out for him.
The day he received his score in his sophomore year was the same day a strange message caught his attention. If he were being honest, he had been so out of it that day that he doesn't even recall reading the terms and conditions much less pressing “YES”. Twice. Does he regret it? Absolutely. Fortunately, three years is a long time to change someone’s mind. Not that much has changed. At the end of the day, he’s still the same man whose phony smile never drops even when he’s angry, and the same boy who can’t bring himself to tell his family that he really couldn’t care less about becoming a doctor. Though if he did have to state one difference, three years of fighting strange monsters despite not clearly recalling giving consent is enough to make even the most patient souls a smidge more spiteful.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Red Spider Lily
name
Sumeragi, Akira
age
23
pronouns
He/Him
(cw: mentions of suicide)
"Dad killed himself."
Akira felt his entire world flip upside down when his older brother, Hanzo, had casually told him about their fathers suicide. The silence between the brothers would only last for a few moments, before their mother would rush in, and deliver a sharp slap for divulging such information to Akira. Hanzo, nursing his face, argued that Akira deserved to know, and soon the exchange would turn into a full blown argument. Akira could feel a lump form in his throat, and soon after, tears streamed down his face. There was no loud sobs, or heaving breaths, only silent crying, as Akira's remaining family shouted at each other.
Akira woke up, and almost instantly sat up, clutching his chest as he gasped for air. While too most, a dream of that magnitude would be nothing more than just a unpleasant walk down memory lane, for Akira, it was akin to that of a hellish nightmare, a memory of childhood that Akira would love nothing more than to forget. The young man picked his phone up, and saw that the time was 4:55 am, entirely too early for him to be up. But before he put his phone back down to get a few more much needed hours of sleep, a notification of an app being installed caught his eye. Akira didn't remember putting anything to install before he went to sleep, but still decided to at least open the app to see what it was about.
The more Akira read through the terms and conditions, the more he felt like he was being dragged into some scam. But something specifically had caught his eye, the promise of a wish, after a certain amount of time had passed. Akira knew better than to trust a random app that he hadn't even installed himself, but at the same time, he was desperate, desperate to quiet a mind that that would never allow him to forget the tragedy that was his childhood. "Damn it all." Akira said, before accepting the terms and conditions. He didn't care if everything about the app was fake, or if he'd be risking his life just for a wish that could be fake. It was on this faithful morning, that Akira's life would change forever.
 
fontcall fontcall fontcall
Adenium
name
Iravani, Zarina
age
24
pronouns
She/Her
A wolf in sheep's clothing, Zarina is a multifaceted enigma even to other members of the Bouquet. She is a maestro of manipulation whose true motives are as inscrutable as her chimeric personality, beguiling others with a poised and amiable demeanour to conceal the cunning ophidian heart within. Few have witnessed her true, insane self... and for those who have, they are mindful to keep their lips sealed, often with fear. On the battlefield, she is belligerent, maniacal, and frenzied, focused solely on exterminating her otherwordly enemies. Owing to this, fellow Flowers will avoid sparring with her, wary she might become carried away by her unusually violent inclination. Yet, despite often resorting to unorthodox methods and subterfuge to achieve her goals, deep down, Zarina is a calculating individual who serves the greater good. She is fiercely protective of those she cherishes, and as someone very dear to her once said.
"You have a heart of gold, Zarina... entombed in a mountain of bitter, cold ice."
It was during a tempestuous epoch that she was invited to join the Flower program. As the eldest daughter of the Iravani clan, Zarina was expected to succeed her mother as the next matriarch, but fate had other plans. When it was discovered that her mother had been murdered, all eyes turned accusingly toward her, falsely suspecting the heiress to be the perpetrator. Unable to prove her innocence, she had no choice but to flee from the onslaught of assassins hunting her down, and in the end, she was forced to slay her own father in self-defence. In time, the Bouquet app mysteriously appeared one day on her mobile device. To Zarina, this was an opportunity.
A chance to escape. A chance at redemption. A chance at retribution.
 
Last edited:
fontcall fontcall fontcall
BEGONIA
name
Huáng, Xia
age
Twenty-Four(24)
pronouns
She/Her
TW: Mentions of Harassment, Bullying, Suicide.
Quiet was the household Xia grew up in, where the windows were never open and the birds never sang.
Quiet was the crying Xia did every night wondering why society's molds fit so few.
Quiet was the day Xia found her sister lifeless near the computer, her name inexplicably repeated in a gossip forum.
With a father whose commitment to work swiftly evolved into obsession, and a mother who put socializing ahead of raising her children, Xia was a child of neglect. Yet, it never seemed to matter to her, for she found solace in her older sister, Beiye - her source of support, her beacon of light.

To Xia, Beiye was like the sun. For the young girl whose exploration of the occult led to rejection and taunts from her classmates, even labeling her as 'freak', her sister stood by her side. Never once did Beiye distance herself. Instead, she embraced Xia whenever she cried from the ridicule, her arms as warm as the sunshine.

To Xia, Beiye was everything. She was the only one who made her feel safe. The only one she could be herself around. The only one she could freely explore and practice Taoism around, a path uncommon for children her age. Beiye was like a star in Xia’s eyes, so when her older sister decided to pursue a career as an idol, Xia became her first devoted fan. In a household where their parents displayed little interest in their endeavors, the sisters joined hand in hand to chase Beiye's dreams. Through countless nights, Xia's room echoed with the sounds of applause as she cheered for Beiye's dancing or enthusiastic chants of her sister's name during singing performances.

Eventually, after countless auditions, Beiye was accepted into a cutthroat idol competition. In fact, she wasn't just admitted; she excelled. She quickly made it to the finals, where Xia couldn't ignore a contestant who glanced at her sister with hateful eyes one too many times.

Soon, the unsettling pattern extended beyond mere glares. Each time Beiye triumphed in the show, a new malicious rumor emerged, initially harmless but quickly escalating. From insinuations about Beiye's success being solely due to her looks, the rumors morphed into an assault on her past—digging up the wounds of her unloving childhood and every academic setback. The narrative even shifted to portray her as a nobody who manipulated her way into the limelight.

However, the last rumor - the one that flickered through Beiye's last open screen - whispered that she had slept with a producer to secure her place on the show - complete with staged photos of a blurred girl.

Baseless claims and unfounded accusations took Xia’s sister away from her. And she knew exactly who did it. But that girl couldn’t have done it alone. No, the girl she perceived as the source of these rumors likely had backers. It wasn't a solo act; someone, with financial resources, orchestrated the staged photos, manipulated newspapers, and fueled the rapid spread of the damaging rumors. Revenge stung Xia’s dried eyes as she writhed.

Quiet was the only word Xia's mother scoffed as she cleared out her eldest daughter's room to replace it into a meaningless closet.

Only a notification on her phone broke her out of her trance. A wish, they promised. A list, she requested. All she needed was their names. She would handle the rest.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top