RealisticFantasy
✯ Raccoon Catcher ✯
Please post character applications here!
Little Red, or just Red, once owned a famed bakery. She was also known for her kindness and optimisim despite the circumstances of her upbringing. However, following her Grandma's death, Red ran off, never to be seen again by those of her town. She's become a nomad, residing in the wilderness where she feels most at home. She has a particular affinity for the woodland creatures because of her time spent among them.
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And She
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Red's parents were killed by the Wolf when she was a young teenager. However, the Wolf continued to make nightly visits to her town. As such, her grandmother was determined to keep her safe, laying out a strict set of rules and investing in precautionary measures to prevent the Wolf from even laying his eyes on Red again. The combination of her fear of loss and her grandmother's rules made Red reluctant to befriend anyone.
Eventually the fear subsided and the Wolf existed only in her nightmares. With the help of her grandmother, Red opened a bakery to pursue one of her favorite hobbies. In an attempt to bury her gruesome past, she threw herself wholeheartedly into the bakery. If she wasn't locked away in her grandmother's house, she was in the bakery, baking another batch of chocolate chip cookies or an apple pie. Despite her increasing optimism about the future, Red still generally kept to herself, saying very little to even her customers.
Little else is publicly known about Red's past following the death of her grandmother. The Woodsman, celebrated as a hero after the presumed death of the Wolf, was the last to see her. The untrusting few believe he is to blame for her disappearance, but many believe the Wolf killed.
Everything she owned, bakery included, was left untouched and abandoned.
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Lived Happily
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Red is a generally happy girl, preferring to see the best in others rather than seek out the worst. She has often been called oblivious, ignorant, and stupid for this attitude, but she doesn't let the insults bother her, believing that they're a waste of her time. She avoids things that remind her of her past seeing as she already struggles with recurring nightmares.
Despite her often bubbly personality, Red doesn't shy away from a fight if she deems it necessary. She has few fears other than the Wolf which can lead her into some troubling situations. However, she abstains from violence as much as possible, preferring to talk her way out of her problems.
After her disappearance, Red became surprisingly more outgoing. Few can connect the name to the story, allowing her to forget about her past troubles in the pursuit of happiness. Red rolls in and out of towns, offering assistance where she can and maybe a baked good or two.
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Ever After
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My story doesn't go quite how they tell it. They don't call me Red because of that stupid hood. It's not all sunshine and flowers. It never was for me.
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But All Good Things
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We didn't always live in fear of the Wolf. There used to be times when children would going running in the woods at night. Well, really I was the only one with an interest in the forest. I found typical town life dull and tedious. I could never understand the fascination children had with the town's inner workings. My interests were dynamic and I needed space to run and allow my imagination to do the same. For fear of losing me among the trees, my parents gave me a red riding cloak to wear when I went out. They told me that it would allow them to see me no matter how far I ventured when I wore it.
I spent every minute of every hour I could in those woods. I was absolutely enthralled by the solidarity and silence. It was like an entirely new world. Everything moved like clockwork. I could time myself by how many birds how flown overhead. I knew exactly how far I was from home by how many trees I had passed along the way. I felt like I ruled my own little kingdom in the woods where I could escape from the dullness of the town life.
Eight. That's how old I was when I met the Wolf. It was a particularly dark night, the moon shrouded behind a seemingly endless blanket of dark clouds. A pair of yellow eyes glistening in the dark caused me to stop dead in my tracks. They had caught me off guard as they belonged to no creature that I had previously encountered. Gleaming teeth soon appeared in the darkness as I stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock.
The Wolf stalked out from his hiding place where I could make out his full figure. He was at least twice my size with fur black and matted and a wholly terrifying creature to an unsuspecting child.He paced toward me, careful and determined. I was certain that I wouldn't be in good shape if I managed to be alive after the Wolf was through.
"Pl-please. I just want to go home..."
He stalked toward me for a moment, his eyes scanning me up and down. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst. But, when I opened them, he was gone. Scrambling to my feet, I quickly returned home without a word to anyone.
The next day, I returned to the woods with the fear of its sanctity being destroyed by the Wolff. Timidly, I stepped through the forest, scanning every bush for a sign of his glowing eyes. The silence that had once been so calming was now incredibly unsettling.
Entering a clearing, I finally saw him. He looked all the more terrifying in the daylight. He wasn't facing me but, surely, he knew I was there. I inhaled deeply and planted my feet firmly on the ground, gathering courage to speak to the monster.
"Hey!"
There was enough distance between us that I could at least get a head start back towards the town. I kept reminding myself of that as I tried to steady my breathing. He turned to face me sharply with a growl and I fumbled with the folded red cloak in my shaking hands. Scraps from my last meal fell to the ground as I spoke softly, stumbling over my words.
"I br-brought this for you. I kn-know it's not much, b-but..."
I lifted my gaze back to the Wolf. His fur was raised and he was baring his teeth. I was suddenly flushed with newfound confidence and determined to coexist with the Wolf like I had with the others creatures in the woods. This was my sanctuary just as much as it was his. No one was going to take it away from me.
"L-look, I come here a lot and I just... I don't think anyone should go hungry."
The Wolf snapped at the air, lunging forward slightly. My confidence quickly dissipated as I stumbled back, falling backwards and raising my arms to cover my face with a small shout of fear. The Wolf settled slightly with a tilted head as I scrambled to my feet, wiping my eyes in the least conspicuous way possible.
"Fine then," I said sharply before turning on my heels and heading home.
I returned the next day, again with the remnants of my most recent meal. I found the Wolf where I had the previous day. I shot a glance to the ground and noticed that the old scraps were no longer there. As I approached, the Wolf reacted to my presence as he had the previous day.
"I-I'm not scared of you," I asserted as I approached him with my folded cloak. It was a blatant lie and we both knew it. I swear I saw him crack a smirk.
"An-and, you're not taking these woods from me," I stated as firmly as I could manage with my shaky voice as I knelt down slightly closer than the day before. I unfolded the cloak carefully and dumped the remnants on the ground.
"This is the only place where I have friends, okay? You're not taking that away from me. I'm getting tired of being lonely. Aren't you?" My voice was quiet and slow as I spoke every once with the greatest care. These woods were the only thing that I had that nobody else did. I just couldn't lose them.
"I feel so... I don't know the word. I feel important out here, like I matter. If I ran away, I don't think anyone back there would care back there. They don't pay attention to me because I'm not a princess." I tried not to let the tears fall. My gaze dropped to the cloak in my lap as I considered what I had just said. After my moment of recollection, I lifted my gaze to the Wolf once again.
"But, you don't care either, do you?" I stood and headed back towards the town.
The next day, I returned once more with scraps. Silently, I dumped them out from my cloak and left. I continued doing this for years as I tried to befriend the vicious Wolf. Sometimes I would stay for a few moments longer, but I never said a word to the Wolf and he never ate until I had left.
I was fifteen when the pattern was interrupted. I had arrived at the usual time in the usual spot, but the Wolf wasn't there. I glanced around the clearing before I cautiously knelt and unfolded my cloak. Suddenly, I felt a nudge at my side and I leaped away with a scream.
I was backed up against a tree and panting as I calmed myself. I stared bewildered at the Wolf who looked, in my opinion, only mildly concerned by my reaction.
"You can't do that to me!"
It came as a sudden realization what exactly had occurred and I rolled over and laid back on the ground, laughing breathlessly. The Wolf approached me and I sat up quickly, still a little wary of his unpredictable nature. There was only a small amount of distance between us and years of lingering fear.
"You can't do that to me," I reiterated softly with a small chuckle. There was a long silence between us before I reached out slowly and carefully. At his slightest growl, I retracted my hand quickly and pressed it to my chest. I waited a moment before throwing my arms around his neck with a laugh. He snapped at the air before settling, seemingly content with the contact.
"Oh, shut up," I teased him, running my hands through his fur.
I again began spending hours on end in the woods. The Wolf and I became nearly inseparable, but I never spoke a word about him to anyone. I had regained my sanctuary and, in the process, gained a friend. We would explore the furthest reaches of the woods during the days and watch the stars during the nights.
For the first time in my life, I was happy.
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Come To An End
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The Wolf laid curled around me and I laid with my head on his stomach, looking to the stars. We often spent nights like this before I had to begrudgingly drag myself home. I would talk about my day, my dreams, my fears and he would listen. Then we would sit in silence. And it was my favorite part of my day.
"Honey? Dear? Where are you?" The familiar voice of my mother rung out from a distance.
"Shit..." I mumbled as I jumped to my feet and the Wolf started to growl softly.
"I didn't bring them, I swear. I wouldn't do that." His growling increased slightly as he got to his feet. "I'm not lying. Now, go. Go!"
I tried to look as innocent as possible as my parents pushed through the brush in front of me.
"Oh, thank goodness! We were so worried, dear. Someone said they saw a wolf out here," my mother wrapped her arms around me.
"Yeah, a real big," my father added absentmindedly as he scanned the area. Clearly, his concern didn't lie with me.
"Wow, that sounds terrifying. We should leave. Now." I started toward the town, pulling my mother along. She stood firmly, grabbing my arm.
"You haven't seen anything like that, have you, sweetie?"
"Of course not, mom. I would have definitely said something if I had, wouldn't I?"
"Well, I just don't know with you, dear. You have this whole... nature thing going on. You used to tell me how you'd talk to the animals."
"Well, I don't do that anymore. Let's go." There was a rustle in the bushes and I pushed my parents along even harder.
"What was that?" My father asked raising an axe that I hadn't seen before.
"Nothing! It's nothing. Let's go."
"Wait, I see it! There! There!" My mother shouted, pointing into the darkness.
"Stay there," my father added gruffly, walking toward the noise. I broke from my mother's grasp, running toward him. He turned on his heels, shoving me back towards her.
"Why don't you ever fucking listen? I said stay there," I opened my mouth to warn him, but it was too late. The Wolf took advantage of the distraction and jumped for my father. He started swinging wildly at the air as the Wolf snapped and tore at him, but it was too late to do anything. My mother screamed for help, backed against a tree as the Wolf approached. I jumped between the pair in an attempt to prevent the situation from worsening. He lunged for my mother and his teeth found my arm instead, sinking deep into my skin before he could realize what had happened.
"This is your fault! You murdered your father! You murdered me!" I could hear my mother screaming frantically but I was far too dizzy to focus on her. I stumbled sideways before falling down, unconscious. When I awoke, I was beside my parents, soaked in their blood. The parents of the town took to calling me the Girl in Red so that their children wouldn't know that I was the one that had lived through the tragedy.
I lived with my grandmother following the murder of my parents and she was certain the Wolf was after me. She told me stories of how she would watch the Wolf pace round and round the house as I slept. I didn't believe her in the slightest. Every child had a horror story that their parents told them to prevent them from going out at night and I had lived through the only true one. I didn't need my grandmother's imagination.
I was running late that night. The bakery was across town and someone had come in at the last minute with a large order. I should've listened. All the stories, the things I had seen... I had grown ignorant due to the lack of his appearance. If I was there, maybe I could've have stopped it.
When I returned to my grandmother's house, there was blood everywhere. It was all too familiar. The trail lead to her room and I followed it for a moment, walking cautiously. I had to see it. I had to be certain. Suddenly, the Wolf darted past with a man immediately behind, axe in hand. Neither took notice of me as I jumped out of the way. The memories came flooding back in waves, silencing me as I pressed myself against the wall to remain out of the conflict.
The struggle was short-lived. The man sliced and cut at the Wolf and I screamed and begged for him to stop. But, only when he was finished, did he seem to finally see me and I realized that I must have not made a sound. I struggled to find my voice, trying to tear my eyes from the bleeding Wolf.
The man told me his wonderful tale of heroism, how he was just strolling by and heard the sounds of a struggle, how he was just barely too late. I had to get away from it, from the Wolf, from the blood. I had to return to my sanctuary. I hurried out the door, ignoring the shouts from the man that had identified himself as the Woodsman.
My rapid steps quickly transitioned into a sprint. I couldn't think. I couldn't stop. I ran for what had felt like days. I ran until my legs refused to cooperate any longer and I collapsed in the woods. Finally, the tears could run freely and I could mourn in peace. I didn't want anyone's sympathies. I just wanted peace.
A rustle in the bushes roused me from my sobs. I caught sight of the creature. I couldn't believe it. It was him, the Wolf, living and breathing while the only family I had left was slaughtered. I wiped my eyes and stumbled to my feet. Surely, this was it. The Wolf would finally get what he so desperately wanted.
Blood was such a common sight, that the red in the snow was hardly as bright to my eyes as it used to be. The trail lead me to him, but he was different - a man with claws and glowing eyes, naked and bleeding. I was angry, terrified, confused but still my steps continued steadily toward him.
"I didn't know you were..." The surprise was clear in my voice.
His gaze snapped to me and he let out a deep growl. There was a certain numbness that propelled me forward, an unusual desire to expedite the inevitable. He tried to stand up but his body wouldn't allow it quite yet.
"I hate you, you know."
My voice carried no emotion as I stared down the Wolf. I was just a few feet from his reach. He swiped at the air which evidently caused him a lot of pain to do.
"I hate you a lot. Just as much as you hate me."
I untied my my riding hood and pulled it off of my shoulders.
"Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I am as stupid as they say I am."
Now within reach, his claws cut at my leg. As the pain jolted through my body, I clenched my jaw and fell to the ground beside him. As I stared him down, it appeared that he had given up fighting and accepted his fate.
"I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I should kill you after all you've done. Then, I would be a hero."
I tore a strip from my cloak, using it to gently wipe the dirt and blood from his face. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks but I made no effort to hide them.
"I hate you," I said softly over and over as I did my best to tend to his wounds. I reached out and cupped his cheek, gently running my thumb along a cut under his eye. I got to my feet and walked into the woods without even a glance back. Once again, I was alone.
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Prankster Pi
Actual Peter Pan
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Age/Background
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Age: "Young." He doesn't keep much track of it, since he doesn't get older. He may just ask what age YOU are and say he's a year older, since he thinks the oldest gets to be the leader. However, one can interpret him to be somewhere in his teens; his face and personality are much too youthful to really help one determine what age of adolescence he's in specifically.
Background: A simple story, really. Peter was just a baby ran away, afraid of the future his parents planned for him. He didn't want to grow up. He ended up in Keningston Gardens, where he was whisked away by fairies to Neverland. At least, that's one name for it. He's been there ever since, but he does make the occasional trip between worlds. And sometimes, he even brings a few visitors or new Lost Boys back with him.
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Personality
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Peter can be quite a sweetheart and very playful, but you mustn't be fooled. His mischievousness and thirst for adventure are never-ending, constantly winding both him and his companions in trouble. He can be proud as well, often overestimating himself and his abilities. He seems to think himself invincible, and while this adds more danger, he is selfless and brave.
*Coding by the most excellent, very red @RealisticFantasy ~
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DokiDokiYokai
Jukebox Hero
Name: Wolf (yes, that's just what he's called as far as anyone knows.)
Age: Appears to be around mid-twenties or so, but who really knows?
Personality/General Appearance: A monster with a lust for blood? Some might consider Wolf the type. He does often find himself at the center of trouble when it comes to situations dealing with others. And, to those observing, it probably seems like he doesn't care much about what happens to anyone or anything else involved. But that's just the way that he has always lived, having to look out for himself and do anything he can to survive. It's not as if he picked the life that he leads, his life was chosen for him by forces far beyond his control.
But what could someone so described possibly look like? On the taller side of average in height, with a slim, yet muscular build. His skin is a soft, pale tone, which is the perfect contrast to the thinck, jet black hair that hangs a little long, especially in the back, the bangs sweeping over his eyes a bit and more layers framing his face and brushing his jawline. His eyes are a yellow color that some might call shocking, tinged with just the faintest hint of a gold shimmer. His features are angular and strong, his face a bit long with pronounced cheekbones and a well-defined jawline.
That is, of course, when he's not a large, powerful beast with fur the color of the darkest of nights...
Writing Sample: It had been a few years since Wolf had passed through this particular small town, and much to his dismay, no one present in the dimly lit tavern he'd found himself in seemed to recall that he ever had. That was fine, for now, he supposed. He was exhausted from travel and didn't feel much like talking to anyone. Talking had always been something that had drawn enormous amounts of energy from the man and he had never cared for it much. After all, he didn't keep friends, and he didn't see any need for this to change any time soon.
For this reason he had decided to stick himself in the darkest of corners and mind his own business. It didn't matter what anyone thought of him right now, he was content to sit quietly and watch others come and go, sipping now and then on the ale placed in front of him on the oak table he'd seated himself at. As far as anyone here should be concerned he was just a stranger passing through and nothing more. No one here could possibly comprehend the truth.
As he shifted his weight to lean heavily in the chair back behind him he found his eyeslids beginning to droop and listened as the sounds of others conversaing turned from recognizeable words to a dull hum. His muscles relaxed, and it wasn't until they began to do so that he became aware of just how tense he had been before. Thinking always seemed to make Wolf tense and for just these few moments it was a relief to not have to do so.
But relief was always a fleeting fancy for the man. Just as soon as he had felt himself slipping gently into that state before sleep he was met with the violent shock of familiarity. Here, in this mere pit stop of a town, in this dingy tavern, he'd caught THAT scent. His eyes shot open and his posture straightened immediately. It was so close. He could feel the strain in his muscles as his jaw tightened and his fingers curled so that his nails dug into his palms. SHE was here.
(Optional) Your own rendition of your fairytale's story: There's not much to say here, aside from the fact that though Wolf's version of events might differ from those others tell, he strives only to make sure the version which leaves his lips (if it ever does) is more terrifying than any that has ever entered his ears. It's better that way. It keeps people from finding themselves sympathic and ultimately keeps them further from the beast.
Age: Appears to be around mid-twenties or so, but who really knows?
Personality/General Appearance: A monster with a lust for blood? Some might consider Wolf the type. He does often find himself at the center of trouble when it comes to situations dealing with others. And, to those observing, it probably seems like he doesn't care much about what happens to anyone or anything else involved. But that's just the way that he has always lived, having to look out for himself and do anything he can to survive. It's not as if he picked the life that he leads, his life was chosen for him by forces far beyond his control.
But what could someone so described possibly look like? On the taller side of average in height, with a slim, yet muscular build. His skin is a soft, pale tone, which is the perfect contrast to the thinck, jet black hair that hangs a little long, especially in the back, the bangs sweeping over his eyes a bit and more layers framing his face and brushing his jawline. His eyes are a yellow color that some might call shocking, tinged with just the faintest hint of a gold shimmer. His features are angular and strong, his face a bit long with pronounced cheekbones and a well-defined jawline.
That is, of course, when he's not a large, powerful beast with fur the color of the darkest of nights...
Writing Sample: It had been a few years since Wolf had passed through this particular small town, and much to his dismay, no one present in the dimly lit tavern he'd found himself in seemed to recall that he ever had. That was fine, for now, he supposed. He was exhausted from travel and didn't feel much like talking to anyone. Talking had always been something that had drawn enormous amounts of energy from the man and he had never cared for it much. After all, he didn't keep friends, and he didn't see any need for this to change any time soon.
For this reason he had decided to stick himself in the darkest of corners and mind his own business. It didn't matter what anyone thought of him right now, he was content to sit quietly and watch others come and go, sipping now and then on the ale placed in front of him on the oak table he'd seated himself at. As far as anyone here should be concerned he was just a stranger passing through and nothing more. No one here could possibly comprehend the truth.
As he shifted his weight to lean heavily in the chair back behind him he found his eyeslids beginning to droop and listened as the sounds of others conversaing turned from recognizeable words to a dull hum. His muscles relaxed, and it wasn't until they began to do so that he became aware of just how tense he had been before. Thinking always seemed to make Wolf tense and for just these few moments it was a relief to not have to do so.
But relief was always a fleeting fancy for the man. Just as soon as he had felt himself slipping gently into that state before sleep he was met with the violent shock of familiarity. Here, in this mere pit stop of a town, in this dingy tavern, he'd caught THAT scent. His eyes shot open and his posture straightened immediately. It was so close. He could feel the strain in his muscles as his jaw tightened and his fingers curled so that his nails dug into his palms. SHE was here.
(Optional) Your own rendition of your fairytale's story: There's not much to say here, aside from the fact that though Wolf's version of events might differ from those others tell, he strives only to make sure the version which leaves his lips (if it ever does) is more terrifying than any that has ever entered his ears. It's better that way. It keeps people from finding themselves sympathic and ultimately keeps them further from the beast.
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Uxie
ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭* ੈ‧₊❀˖°
Mad Hatter
no slide
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OVER
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name
Luna Hart
age
She's gotta be pretty old, or else how would she know so much?
gender
Female
sexuality
Pansexual
appearance
Luna has bright pink hair that falls to a little below her shoulders, and oddly coloured pink eyes curtained with long lashes. She stands at 5'2 and 109lbs, and would be considered rather small, though not as small as the Red Queen. Luna has been said to be quite pretty, though she doesn't really care very much for it.
She also doesn't wear a hat 24/7. That's only for certain occasions.
role
Mad Hatter
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THE BEND
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personality
To clarify, Luna isn't actually crazy. In fact, she's actually one of the most intelligent people in Wonderland. That intelligence leads her to use sarcasm a lot, though people often just think she's joking. It's really exasperating when everyone thinks you're a lunatic just because someone else said so. It also doesn't help when you were named "Luna" in the first place.
Well, okay. Maybe she's a little crazy. But not as much as people say she is. Would it even be called insanity to be a just a little bit silly? That's horribly wrong, if so. So what if she likes weird things? So does he, and her, and literally everyone. Maybe she'd act crazy just to humour you though, so you'd never know. Unless you read this personality thing.
Luna is actually very cheerful most of the time, though she has some bipolar tendencies, so her mood can go from happy to mad in a matter of seconds if there's a huge trigger. She's pretty scary when she's mad, or so people tell her, but thankfully Luna has somewhat of a good self-control, and a trained huge tolerance to pet peeves and others.
habits
drinking tea
smiling for no reason
puffing out her cheeks for no reason
other
Luna has some magical capabilities, passed down her family bloodline for generations. it's not spectacular, but she does specialise in transformation and creation. Her magic is limited to small items like food and her tea sets, and her transformations are very temporary.
Since her banishment, Luna, with the help of Cheshire, though she doesn't really understand what he did exactly, has made a house in the woods, with a small garden. You can't have a parties without a venue, right?
no slide
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ENTIRELY
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background
Luna used to be an advisor for the Red Queen. The Queen of Hearts herself. Not to brag, but she was one of the most favoured Advisors. Luna was smart, and had a foresight for events that no one else in Wonderland could match. No one knew if it was real, but everything she'd ever predicted came true, and as such people trusted her.
Until they heard something they didn't want to know about.
Luna correctly predicted the arrival of Alice, years before it happened, informing the queen that the human girl would put everything she'd ever treasured at stake. The Queen, blinded by power, refused to believe what her dear advisor was trying to warn her of. Luna was stripped of her title, and nearly all of her belongings, save for her clothes and a hat she'd been given by the Queen herself. The girl was written off as crazy, and never to be seen in town again. The hat itself became a mockery of Luna, as people began dubbing her as the Mad Hatter.
Thus, Luna began living in the woods, setting up a little tea party with some magic that'd been passed down by generations. She'd sit by, watching as the Queen's kingdom crumbled around her. And when Alice finally arrived, she greeted her with a pleasant smile, and sit by she did.
relationships
TBA
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BONKERS
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writing sample
"Well, isn't it little Maddie Hatter?"
Cheshire smirked at her from the top of his branch, and Luna resisted the urge of slapping that smug smile off of his stupidly elongated mouth. "I told you, my name isn't Maddie, it's Luna, you dolt."
"Potato, potato. What're you setting up for?"
Luna glanced at the table before her, pursing her lips. It was still missing a little... something. "A guest who deserves a good tea party as a greeting" Cheshire looked at her curiously, tipping his head to one side.
"What kind of guest? You wouldn't be talking about the Re-"
"No. Of course not." she snapped, halting in her arrangement of her teapots. "That bitch doesn't deserve any sort of party for her. I'm expecting someone else." Luna turned to look at Cheshire, staring at him for a moment as the gears fell into place with a 'click'. She clapped her hands together and began setting out seats for one, two, three, four people.
"Do I happen to be invited?" Luna let out a sharp laugh, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Why would you be? No one knows you're crazy. Dormouse and March Hare, on the other hand..." She began setting down plates, and summoning random baked treats. Balloons, check. Food, check. Music? Bah, who needed that? She and her friends were- entertainment- enough.
Cheshire watched her with interest, his tail swishing back and forth. "Are you saying this guest of yours is a known crazy?"
"She will be."
"She? Who is then, if not the Queen of Hearts?"
Luna smirked knowingly, her gaze meeting his, the knowledge behind hers far greater than his would ever match.
"Her name's Alice."
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Verse Zero
Senior Member
"Please to meet you. Hope you guess my name."
Name: The Black Prince, Lucifer, Thor, Horus, Mephistopheles, Death (all variations of the same spirit who was once The Keeper)
Age: Not truly applicable.
Gender: Having no actual biological gender Lucy can readily switch between male and female forms at will
A demon is silver tongued and full of malevolence, tread carefully, lest your eternal soul be damned
Personality: Lucy has fallen on hard times. Having forsaken his duty as The Keeper protecting those who would travel between worlds. Keeper of magic and dispensation of Justice. That was eons ago, and he has long since forgotten his original purpose, wandering the surface and else ware on a contractual basis. As such he is often full of witty humor, sarcastic remarks, and generally disenfranchisement from reality. Though he is not insane, just finds the motives of others an intriguing event in a chaotic cosmos which cares not for their well being.
If you believe your God can perform miracles one must wonder, "Does the Devil have a few up his sleeve?"
Biography: Since his birth was not recorded one can only rely upon the words of the Demon for answer. By Lucy's own words he was borne, "Somewhere cold," but he found himself different than the native inhabitents. He would not age. Possessing powers beyond the mundane. He became The Keeper, charging himself with the protection of the mundane from the arcane, and was generally successful in that regard.
So he lived until one day he was cast out for some reason he did not know. One must remember the words of the Demon to be laced with lies. Just enjoying a sunset until a black abyss opened in the sky and we was sucked int oa realm of chaotic energy. Only allowed out through summoning or willpower to break the boundaries between realms. This was how he found the "lands below the surface" as he calls it.
Lucy is a contractual being, summoned and bonded to a master, to serve until fulfillment or release.
"I love references, especially those real and literary, I must tell you sometime of a rather interesting place that is on the surface sleepy, but deep down is full of mystery, not a very hollow place I assure you."-Lucy.
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q r o w
Body in Abyss, Heart in Paradise.
WIP
Life isn't truly all happy endings. Some endings are just lies.
Name:
Genesis Silver
Age:
Twenty-five
Gender:
FEMALE
Other:
She does have her hands back, but can use her silver ones anytime. They are like gauntlets. The expand from the elbow down. Covering everything except elbow and up.
Personality:[/COLOR] [COLOR=rgb(255,255,255)]
Gene was always a happy and carefree girl. A kind and pure spirit. Some say she had a pure heart of light. She was always social and happy, that was until she was eighteen. Her father had struck a deal with the devil. And, when the deal messed up, she became a cautious and wise young one after her father cut off both her hands. She now is an observer, and a guide. She cares for others deeply, though is afraid to let them in. She always wears a smile on her face, even when in doubt.
Trait List: Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Often puts the needs of others above their own needs. Observer with rich inner world of observations about people. Very perceptive of other's feelings. Private and polite. Timid, social, modest, not confrontational, easily hurt. Confident, Follows the rules, dutiful and responsible. Stable and practical, valuing security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Interested in serving others. Dislikes competition. Good at finishing tasks. Clean, organized, a planner. spontaneous, does appreciate strangeness. tolerant to differences. Prone to confusion. Fears doing the wrong thing. likes change. Apprehensive, guarded, avoidance, anxious, cautious, suspicious. More interested in relationships and family than intellectual pursuits.
Biography:
(Located as her story)
no slide
Gene gently put down her book and stood from her chair. She traced a gloved hand over the arm of the wooden rocking chair as she brushed past. She walked over to a small chest, taking the key from her glove pouch, and unlocked the chest that she kept locked since that day. She pulled out it's contents slowly, as if where as fragile as glass or the memories each contained. She looked first to the silver cloth, that hid what was beneath. She turned her attention quickly, to a small lock of hair. her sons. She gave a faint smile. Yes, Jackson had taken care of little Fane until he became old enough to be king. She had trusted Jackson as her brother-in-law to hold the throne until then, for she could not bare to live in the palace without the memories of death. A few tears dropped from her eyes. Quickly, she dappled a handkerchief to the tears and put the hair back into it's spot in the chest. She finally removed the cloth that hid what was underneath. Two Silver Gauntlets, and twin daggers. She seperated the daggers and looked at them. The very weapons her husband die with in his hands. She closed her eyes to stop the memories. She put them back into the chest, her eyes tearing up. "If only.." She pondered to her self quietly. She turned to the silver gauntlets, Only made to fit her hands. She slid off the gloves that currently where on her hands. Looking at her hands, the ones she at one time never have again, now she did. She slipped on her 'Silver Hands' as they had been called. She looked at them surprised as they fitted even with her having her hands back. She smiled and let the tears flow as she remembered the day she got them, and the man who made them. She shut the chest and locked it again. She looked around her cabin in a teary blur, before smiling and heading for the door.
Story
The Girl With Silver Hands (Also referred to as The handless maiden)
Life isn't truly all happy endings. Some endings are just lies.
I didn't get the happily ever after the story said.
Name:
Genesis Silver
Age:
Twenty-five
Gender:
FEMALE
Other:
She does have her hands back, but can use her silver ones anytime. They are like gauntlets. The expand from the elbow down. Covering everything except elbow and up.
So, here is the Real story,
Personality:[/COLOR] [COLOR=rgb(255,255,255)]
Gene was always a happy and carefree girl. A kind and pure spirit. Some say she had a pure heart of light. She was always social and happy, that was until she was eighteen. Her father had struck a deal with the devil. And, when the deal messed up, she became a cautious and wise young one after her father cut off both her hands. She now is an observer, and a guide. She cares for others deeply, though is afraid to let them in. She always wears a smile on her face, even when in doubt.
Trait List: Quiet, kind, and conscientious. Often puts the needs of others above their own needs. Observer with rich inner world of observations about people. Very perceptive of other's feelings. Private and polite. Timid, social, modest, not confrontational, easily hurt. Confident, Follows the rules, dutiful and responsible. Stable and practical, valuing security and traditions. Well-developed sense of space and function. Interested in serving others. Dislikes competition. Good at finishing tasks. Clean, organized, a planner. spontaneous, does appreciate strangeness. tolerant to differences. Prone to confusion. Fears doing the wrong thing. likes change. Apprehensive, guarded, avoidance, anxious, cautious, suspicious. More interested in relationships and family than intellectual pursuits.
Biography:
(Located as her story)
MY STORY.
no slide
Writing Sample
Gene gently put down her book and stood from her chair. She traced a gloved hand over the arm of the wooden rocking chair as she brushed past. She walked over to a small chest, taking the key from her glove pouch, and unlocked the chest that she kept locked since that day. She pulled out it's contents slowly, as if where as fragile as glass or the memories each contained. She looked first to the silver cloth, that hid what was beneath. She turned her attention quickly, to a small lock of hair. her sons. She gave a faint smile. Yes, Jackson had taken care of little Fane until he became old enough to be king. She had trusted Jackson as her brother-in-law to hold the throne until then, for she could not bare to live in the palace without the memories of death. A few tears dropped from her eyes. Quickly, she dappled a handkerchief to the tears and put the hair back into it's spot in the chest. She finally removed the cloth that hid what was underneath. Two Silver Gauntlets, and twin daggers. She seperated the daggers and looked at them. The very weapons her husband die with in his hands. She closed her eyes to stop the memories. She put them back into the chest, her eyes tearing up. "If only.." She pondered to her self quietly. She turned to the silver gauntlets, Only made to fit her hands. She slid off the gloves that currently where on her hands. Looking at her hands, the ones she at one time never have again, now she did. She slipped on her 'Silver Hands' as they had been called. She looked at them surprised as they fitted even with her having her hands back. She smiled and let the tears flow as she remembered the day she got them, and the man who made them. She shut the chest and locked it again. She looked around her cabin in a teary blur, before smiling and heading for the door.
Story
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Aine
Hopeless Romantic
Alex Edmund
Lex
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Race: Human
Height: 5'10'' - 178 cm
Weight: 152lbs - 70kg
no slide
no slide
-
Appearance
-
His very dark, navy blue hair is usually the thing that someone would first notice about Alex. He himself is not sure how it is that color, but it has been that way ever since he explored a cave with some sort of strange, blue dust floating around in the air. He did try to wash it off, right after exiting the cavern's opening, but nothing he tried would remove the strange dye from his hair. He, eventually, has given up completely on returning his hair to its original color, and rather likes the way it is right now.
Alex is of rather average height and stature, a little on the skinny side, but not so much that someone would notice it. His eyes murky green, which are the same color as his mother's. Apart from that, Alex would often carry a small bag, used to carry the plants and herbs which he was tasked with collecting and a sword, which he would use to defend himself against wild beasts or, vary rarely, cave dwelling monsters. -
Personality
-
Alex has a rather skinny stature by nature, even though he the son of a rather well known mercenary within his hometown - maybe it was due to how he lacked interest in fighting, or maybe more so on that fact that he used to constantly skip training with his dad as a child. Usually, the time he made by dodging practice was spent on long walks in, out and through the woods just outside of town, occasionally, he would jump into crumbled, old ruins and explored caves which he stumbled upon during these walks.
It would be right to assume that he has an affinity towards exploring, and generally loved being around nature, and the lust for exploration never seems to end for him, some of his closer friends actually wonder how he is still living in town, and hasn't left the town to 'explore the world' by now.
As easy to begin a conversation with Alex is, most of the conversations anyone would have with him would usually turn into Alex telling the other person about his expeditions into these caverns and ancient temples. He could sometimes be a little too boastful about his accomplishments. "I mean, who wouldn't want to hear about these wonderful places?" he would often hush to himself, every time someone tries to dodge his lengthy stories, though he wouldn't let that thought linger within his head for too long.
Apart from exploring, Alex also does odd-jobs for herbalists and cooks who require certain types of plants or herbs which can only be found in certain locations in the forest. Even though he finds doing this a pain, as it only serves to hinder his expeditions, this is his only source of income, forcing him to accept these jobs.
-
Background
-
Alex grew up within a rather large town, which is just a few hundred miles outside of the capital. His house, which he lived in with his father and mother, lie just outside of said town and slightly into the forest. There, Alex lived an average, rather sheltered, life. He'd go to school by day, and skip training on the evenings, only to come back late within the night. This routine became so common that as time went by, his parents would often leave his bedroom window unlocked, so that Alex could climb into the house if he were to return too late.
Even though he did often skip his dad's training, the few sessions that he was forced to be there have taught him how to sufficiently defend himself from danger, though his skills may not be as proficient as his father's, he does still know a thing or two about protecting himself. His father taught him this as a last ditch effort in trying to get his son interested in fighting and getting stronger.
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Dominaiscna
The Dreamer
-
Basic
-
"You see, I never was a child. I had to grow up before I could savor those lost moments."
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Race: human
Height: 155cm - 5'1
Weight: 50kg - 110lbs
Appearance : Raven, like her name, has dark features that contrast against her pale skin. Her hair is naturally ebony and reaches past her shoulder in light waves. Most of the time, it is left down due to the insistence of her foster mother despite how annoying it is for her to have hair in her face when she's working. Her eyes are so dark that they are almost black in colour with a hint of turquoise. Many people say that she must've gotten her looks from her mother. She has a soft face without the much desired sharpness of cheek bones many girls sought for. She stands at a rather short height but often wears heels to conceal it. Her build is slender with a lack of muscle due to the non-existent sport she does.
"I will choose how my story ends. This is my life and only I can control it."
-
Personal
-
"There's no such thing as a happy ending. No one lives happily ever after in the real world."
Personality:
Initially, Raven comes off cold and incredibly sharp. She's quick to snap back at anything that seems even the slightest bit aggressive or offensive towards her. If she's not cutting people with her words and sharp tongue, she'll be killing them with sarcasm, always finding some way to talk back. This usually wards off people from properly getting to know her because, in all honesty, she's afraid. She's afraid of letting people in and having them leave her after learning the fault in her blood and all she had done as a child who just wanted to fit in.
Once a person pushes past all her defenses, they find the person inside. A child. A child with the demeanor of an adult. A girl who acts strong just so others will leave her alone. A person who is trying to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders, bottling everything inside just to hide herself. Someone who wants to help, to belong and to find people who really care for her and arent just paid to do so. She doesn't want to be the wild, uncontrollable and dangerous deliquent she's made herself out to be, but her reputation has been carved in stone. And there's no changing it.
If one were to catch her among her pages and pages of stories. She's just a bit different. She's more relaxed, a bit more open and gentle even. She lets herself dream, imagine and create. Among her books, she isn't Raven. She's a little girl who's at home.
Background:
Raven was born in the shadows of a street. Disposed of almost immediately, she was, as she learnt a few years later, a bastard's child. Picked up out of the gutter by an orphanage, she was passed from family to family like an unwanted gift till a group of people finally kept and raised her. They were nice enough to the young girl, but even she knew that she would never be seen as one of their own.
She was the problem child. She was reckless, made the worst mistakes and she was untamable. Her classmates avoided her and the neighbours frowned upon her. No amount of punishment and lecturing could bring the child back to the path that she had strayed from. There was nothing to be done to bind and control the wild animal the family had brought into their house.
It was only years later when they introduced books to Raven were they able to finally control her somehow. It was in the crisp pages of books did she finally find her solace and sanctuary, a place where she could delve into and forget the wild creature she was born as. She then took to writing when the world in the stories weren't enough, creating her own world in which everything was just the way she wanted. She'd be with her real family, she wouldn't be called names, picked on and isolated, she'd just be a normal child.
"Time waits for no one. There is no point in wasting your life away on impossible hopes and ungrantable wishes."
-
Writing Sample
-
"Go home boys. You won't find a damsel in distress here."
It was in the darkness of the early morning, before anyone else was up, did Raven savored the most. To sit in her attic room with the roof slanting above her, her dusty carpet beneath, the first rays flitting through the stained glass window into her and her books lying all around her was her most favorite situation and, best of all, she was alone.
Silence was her favorite sound and, at this hour, it was all she heard save for the odd chirp of the early bird. Morning was dawning on her faster than she would've liked but, in these short moments, she tried to read as much as she could in absolute peace. The lion, the witch and the wardrobe had entertained her for a day or two, till she'd finished it and moved on to the secret garden. Now she was debating over Lord of the Rings and Throne of Glass. Jane Eyre was sounding awfully tempting to, not necessarily action packed... But challenging.
It was then she noticed large book peeking out from under the pile. It was a leather bound book, dusty and weathered with pages that were turning brown with age. In faded gold letters on the front, it wrote Fairytales, the first book she had ever gotten. She trailed her finger tips over the flaking cover and the slightly sunk in letter, reminiscing in old memories. She wished she had a life like those in the many stories bound inside the aged book... But after all, they were only fairytails.
"It's time to wake up. Dreams don't last forever."
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Arkenlo
Unlucky Member
I entered the mansion, light glaring against the marble floor. Not long after, I caught sight of a brunette fanning her way over to me, obviously trying not to look at me but ultimately failing. Ladies at parties such as these always give me perfect opportunities to free them of jewels. When she reached me, I gave her a dazzling smile and a charming bow. "My lady. What gives me the pleasure to speak to such a beautiful rose?" For some reason, comparing them to flowers always worked. Odd, but I suppose roses and such were beauteous.
She giggled, fanning herself with one hand while holding the other out for me to kiss. I did, but I refrained from snatching her rings. That would be for my exit. I pressed my lips to her skin a moment longer than nessesary, causing her to giggle again. Rather stupid that a simple kiss did that, but I wasn't complaining. Easier to get closer to her in order to snatch her jewelry. And my, did she have gems.
"Oh, I just happened to notice you arrive, and I do get curious." She explained smoothly. I kept my pleasant smile though I just wanted to cringe. Interested in bringing me to your bedroom, no doubt. Nonetheless, I gave her a rich laugh. "Curiosity killed the cat. Would you allow me a dance, dear angel?" With another giddy giggle, she tugged me towards the dance floor, barely giving me time to place my hands in their according spots before she started to swing around, twirling to the music. I had to give it to her, she spun around elegantly.
While she spun, I released one of my hands and began to caress her face, distracting her so I could slowly untangle her jewelry from her locks, taking care to not touch her skin or cause too much movement. Once I had gathered three necklaces, I pulled her from the granite floor, lowering in a bow once we slowed. "It was an experience I will never forget, miss." I leaned forward and pressed my lips slowly to her hands before flashing her a smirk and whisking away, a ruby ring I hand. "But alas, I must go. Perhaps we shall meet again, fair lady. Farewell." And with that, I strided from her and the other dancing couples, trying not to leave too eagerly.
Once I was in the street again, I slipped the mask from my face, the jewelry a comforting weight in my pocket. A sly smile spread across my face as I strided down the dark street. It would be a long while before she noticed her jewelry disappeared.
name:;
Jaxon Dean
show/nickname:;
Black Sparrow
gender:;
Male
age:;
Twenty
height:;
Six feet
weight:;
138 lbs
appearance:;
Jaxon's locks contrast against his black clothing like a rose in stone. His hair gleams a platinum blonde shade, always messy and rather long. The only time his hair is neat and slicked back is when he decides to make an appearance to snatch possessions from wealthy folk. His eyes are ocean blue, just bordering emerald green. Thick lashes line his eyes, making him look gentle and kind if you so happen to miss his sneaky smirk. He has a rather triangular face, not sharp enoughnto make him look cruel, but soft enough to look oval at certain angles. Jax is considerably tall at six feet, with a lean build trained in speed, stealth, and a little strength, though he tends to be more agile rather than powerful.
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Hazardous
Replicant
The Beast
PERSONALITY
NAME: August Mormont || AGE: 25 || HEIGHT: 5’11" || WEIGHT: 168lbs.
August is a man of emotional ups and downs. He handles his issues well enough despite any negative outbursts. His anger is just as fleeting as his happiness, and it is almost as if the man struggles to discern his feelings. Impatience likely contributes to his issues in normalizing his outward façade as he carries himself from malaise to energy to loathing. He is a man unable to truly hide how he feels, and often comes across arrogant when met with opposition.
He is not a man quick to trust, and even in friendships he finds himself doubtful. It takes a deep bond for him to shed his this attribute, to which he has not been privvy to for quite some time. And who would want to bond with such a problematic man as he? August has only just recently become aware of his unpredictable nature. He is a beast in more ways than one, and that became his wake up call. He seeks penance for his former self, and tries his best to manage his outbursts. Due to this being only a recent revelation, it is still quite the struggle.
-
APPEARANCE
-
His more kindly appearance is his natural human form. August was born of nobility and wealth, and he still carries himself as such. Perhaps the only aspect of his appearance he has never been able to tame is the curly mop of brown hair that sits upon his crown in a mess. Dark brown eyes are set under thick brows, often low and creased with emotion. A scar runs down the left side of his face all the way down to his jawline stubbled with scruff.
His physique is that of a fit man underneath his stately attire. Whatever the situation, the man dresses well, almost as if he still felt the need he had to.
There is another side of him that looks far more grizzly. The Beast is a strange occurrence triggered by anger or fear. It is when August becomes a creature akin to a wolf, though as large as a bear. His fingers carry long, sharp claws as dark as onyx. Perhaps the only feature in this form that gives the only indication that it is, in fact, August, is the curly brown fur that covers the wolfish hide.
-
HISTORY
-
August is rumored to be of royal blood, though his bloodline has long since been killed off. He has lived alone in his castle for the past decade with nothing but a handful of servants. He was cursed at age 15, and mysteriously soon after his family disappeared leaving him the sole heir to the fortune. Rumors spread of a beast lurking about the woodlands that surrounded his estate and it was quickly decided that it was to blame for his family's death. To this day no one knows that he is The Beast.
In the years following, August became reclusive and nearly agoraphobic. Everyone brushed it off as justified depression until they soon forgot he even existed. Some had wondered if he was still alive, for the estate was still well maintained. But due to the rise of deaths caused by The Beast, the woodlands became forbidden, and no one would even enter the treeline. August then found total seclusion.
It was only until recent events of his nation falling into disarray that caused him to reemerge from his isolation. Now a grown man, August looks to find purpose in life rather than wasting away in his castle.
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WRITING SAMPLE
-
August spent hours by the window in the west wing that overlooked the gardens. In his childhood, he used to play out on the grounds daily with his older brother and sister. It had been since that day that he stepped foot on the dirt paths, yet he demanded his groundskeeper to maintain it just as it had been all the years before. His arms crossed before his chest as he contemplated his life to this point. He felt ashamed, the guilt bottled inside him constantly.
But it was this day that he truly woke up as he rose from bed. His cook had told him of the turmoil brewing throughout the lands. The kingdom was in disarray and on the cusp of a civil war. What good was he doing languishing in his castle? And so it became his call to action.
For the first time in nearly a decade, August stepped out beyond the heavy oak doorway and traversed his estate. It was like walking on new legs, for it felt strange to move about on such uneven terrain.
"Lumiere?" he called out to his servant. A tall, gangly man approached with more hurried steps to match August's pace, a hesitant smile splayed upon his aging features.
"Yes, my lord?"
"I would like my father's sword," he said, his fingers slowly trailing over the hedge bushes as he walked. It felt sharp to the pads of his palm and fingers, yet there was an energy to feeling the life that caused him to refrain from retracting his hand. He then paused in a thought, his head turning to the servant abruptly. Lumiere jolted in momentary fear, but soon relaxed as August maintained his composure.
"Do I still own horses?" August asked. Lumiere couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes!" he exclaimed before sighing with relief. "Yes, my lord. Shall I fetch one from the stables?"
August nodded in response and took in a deep breath. The air smelled musty as if it had rained in the recent hour. He couldn't remember the days or when it did rain. Everything felt different outdoors. "It's time I move on to greater things."
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FluffyMarshmallow
The nerdiest and fluffiest marshmallow of them all
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<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/blonde-hair-animes-anime-30920322-500-632-2.jpg.6b6681eb3d6b09f9c43f04d84991d0ec.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="143199" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/blonde-hair-animes-anime-30920322-500-632-2.jpg.6b6681eb3d6b09f9c43f04d84991d0ec.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Goldilocks
Female
18
Heterosexual
Personality:
She keeps to herself, no one gets a clear look at her face unless she trusts them 100%, and since she doesn't talk to many people only Porridge knows. Everyone that did know her face before doesn't remember. She only talks to Porridge and people in her thieves circle, and that was only to bargain for trades. She is more mysterious to people who notice her, they never get a chance to talk to her though, disappears into the forest a lot. Most people who meet her don't even know she is a girl, they can only assume since she doesn't talk or interact socially. She keeps her valuables secret and doesn't have many feelings toward people unless she cares about them. She only reads when she is in town, unless she has scored a big prize, that is when she goes out for a drink.
Traits:
+ Adventurous
- Mischievous
+ Capable
- Awkward
+ Clever
- Quiet
+ Useful
- Scheming
+ Sweet
- Anti-social
- Dark Childhood
- <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thVST59S8O.jpg.c58a35c4347515330d8d458b5b0ae70d.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="142892" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thVST59S8O.jpg.c58a35c4347515330d8d458b5b0ae70d.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Goldilocks was born into a cruel world, her parents were too young to have a kid, she was born out of wedlock and the whole town frowned upon them. They were immature and selfish, they blamed Goldilocks for their own mistakes and were angry all of the time. When she was just a baby her parents were having a loud argument, screaming at each other. Since Goldilocks was born it was hard to tell why they had ever gotten together in the first place, it was honestly astonishing how such love could turn into hatred. They were screaming at each other, her mother had been so angry at her father, he came home drunk with a girl even more drunk than he was. Her mother was so angry at him, she had been with Goldilocks all day while her father partied. After that fight, her mother was emotionless, and she looked at him in disgust instead of hatred. Goldilocks was eleven when it happened, she walked home from school and she saw her father standing over her mother in the kitchen, he was holding a brick and her mother lay on the floor with a pool or blood by her head, she screamed at the sight and the neighbor rushed over. Her father was taken away, and as far as anyone knew something inside of him just snapped and he acted out. Goldilocks was taken away and put into an orphanage shortly after her mothers funeral. Goldilocks was in shock, it was all so strange to her. As much as her mother hated her father, in the end she loved Goldilocks, but her father could never feel that way about her. She wore black for the rest of the year out of respect for her mother, and she would often visit her mothers grave on her birthday to plant catnip at her mothers grave, she had always been fond of cats and loved their calming energy.
- The three liars
- <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thJMF5236H.jpg.228f0e50b79bf4973e54bf3aed623c24.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="142893" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thJMF5236H.jpg.228f0e50b79bf4973e54bf3aed623c24.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Goldilocks was sixteen when she entered those woods, she had been lost for days. Those brats at the orphanage had gotten her in a lot of trouble, she had went to library and lost track of time. Of course the 'mother' didn't believe her, she was angry and the wicked kids snickered in the corner while she was screamed at by the lady. Goldilocks kept quiet till she accused her of being like her mother. Goldilocks looked up at her with such ferocity the lady stuttered. She slowly walked toward the woman glaring as if she could see straight into her soul and took in a deep breath, the kids stopped mocking her at once and they began to tremble. Goldilocks opened her mouth and spoke boldly "I NEVER want to here you mock my mother, you must RESPECT her, you have no idea what her life was like" after those words she turned on her heel and gave the kids a look that made them stop trembling, a soft look to reassure them that everything was ok. Goldilocks had no personal items so she walked right outside the door, she was tired of that awful town so she walked into the forest, it was a strange feeling that she had when she saw the forest, it was as if she had important business inside there. She felt off when she wandered inside. She was deep inside the forest and it was dark, she was scared and alone. She curled up at the base of a tree and fell asleep. She woke up and wandered the forest, it was three days and she hadn't eaten, she was walking around desperate when she stumbled upon the house, it was beautifully simple, she knocked frantically, she was feeling lightheaded from the hunger. There was no answer so she opened the door, the house was empty but it smelled nice. She walked inside and spotted food, it was porridge and looked delicious, she eagerly took a spoonful from the smallest bowl. The feeling that she had was so wonderful, having food was nice. She felt drawn to a small chair, she couldn't help but sit. It broke underneath her, her size had been too much. She pulled out a silver coin, it was all she had, and she placed it on the broken surface. She walked toward a door and opened it, inside where three beds and a few pictures of a bear family, a mother, a father, and a baby/ It was weird that the parents had separate beds 'They must have problems' she thought. It was as if she was under a spell, she couldn't help but crawl onto a bed. She instantly fell asleep. She woke up to see three bears looking down at her. She screamed and rushed off the bed and out of the bedroom window. She ran through the forest quick as she could, but when she did find her way into town, there were posters of her labeled 'WANTED' Goldilocks took one of them and read that the bears had claimed that she had stolen all of their valuables. She was shocked that she was considered an outlaw, she didn't have anywhere else to go though. She had nothing else. She looked around and saw a cloak that was forest green. She took it and put on. She felt.. good. It was a bit thrilling to be a thief. She wandered the street unnoticed by the townsfolk. <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/arabian_horse_by_dolphy.jpg.ad315cf86b5331171af24be8ba860742.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="143164" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/arabian_horse_by_dolphy.jpg.ad315cf86b5331171af24be8ba860742.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> She spotted a white horse that looked miserable, mistreated and abused. She felt angry and she spotted a hunting dagger. She cut the ropes that she had been tied up to the post but the horse seemed to exhausted to notice. She grabbed some of the feed and held it in in her hand, feeding the creature while gently stroking her neck. The horse seemed a bit better. She turned to leave but the horse gently bit on her cloak to hold her back. She turned back to see the most beautiful horse eyes she had ever seen. She gave the horse a smile and placed her hand on its neck and saw that her pelt needed to be cleaned and groomed properly so she grabbed some of the supplies that looked as if had been forgotten. She groomed the horse and after she was finished the horse looked almost healthy. She grabbed a pail and filled with water for the horse. After the horse had finished she looked nice. Goldilocks began to leave but the horse followed. She let her follow, to be honest she had grown attached to the horse. The two quickly became close and they were always near each other. Goldilocks named the horse Porridge as a reminder of her mistakes
- Writing Sample
- <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thZ2PCGYLK.jpg.7c172367e5ec9c678e06a901395cad31.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="142895" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_07/thZ2PCGYLK.jpg.7c172367e5ec9c678e06a901395cad31.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> Goldilocks ran from the building clutching the bag to her chest, the sound of them were getting louder and she picked up her pace. Goldilocks's eyes flashed with mischief as soon as she spotted her white steed. She leaped onto Porridge and they rode away from the angry guards, she gave Porridge a stroke of her hand on her neck in appreciation. The guards didn't even see her coming, she had her cloak shielding them from view of her face, she had porridge pretend to be injured to distract the guards. She ran too fast to be noticed, you could only hear the rustle from her cloak, they turned back because they heard it, but they didn't see her. She had ran upstairs to collect her prize, the door had a lock but she opened it easily. The door creaked and the guards rushed back to see her holding the jewels proudly, smirking. They wished the got a glimpse of her whole face, but they could only see her smirk. Goldilocks opened the window and leaped down, the guards just weren't quick enough. She rode on, but because she was carrying such precious cargo the guards hadn't stopped, and Goldilocks had a bad feeling that they had something planed. Porridge felt it too, she went faster and they were forced to stop at a sight a thief never wants to see under such circumstances. They stopped in front of the royal carriage. The door swung open, to reveal one of the most well known face in the land, the face of Owen Charming, the youngest of the Charming boys. The guards stopped at a somewhat safe distance. Porridge neighed and Goldilocks clutched the bag tighter. The prince observed the scene and began to speak "Unmask yourself thief, then return the goods you have stolen." he said with his hand on his sword, threatening to draw it. The guards had their swords drawn and were waiting for the next move. Goldilocks gave him a smirk in return "You'll have to catch me first" and with that Porridge stood on her hind legs and whinnied, before quickly rushing off to the right. Goldilocks hood slipped down just a bit, but just enough for the prince to know that the robber had blonde hair
- Theme
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