[Cloasiii]

Username: Cloasiii

Name: Zhōuqí (( Chinese for "cycle, loop, reoccurring" ))

10 word personality: Woke. Skeptical. Individualistic. Hopeful. Adamant. Conflicted. Unwell. Idealistic. Lonely. Dark.

What do they do at the crack of dawn? (500 words MAX.)

Rude Awakening
There has never been a morning in the woods without Zhōuqí musing around. His friends and family never understood his obsession; his answers to their inquiries only worried them more.
"They are real and they are dangerous," he would angrily retort. "You don't know anything at all, you sheep."
If only they felt what he did in those dim mornings. The emotions and energies that would abruptly overwhelm him, make him howl with fear and exhilaration. The dark was here and he was drawn to find them for some unknown purpose. What Zhōuqí does know is that he cannot rest through the dawn without heeding the call of the forest demons. Where were they now? He must find them. He must find them. He must. He will.

No one will believe him, no one will ever know the truth if he himself does not step up to that daunting dawn to drag the beasts from the belly of the dark.

So each morning he tributes his soul to scour scarce scenery. He rises and drags his lumbering body through the petrified leaves and dirt in search of vindication and freedom from what has become his curse. From daybreak to evening his irritation gradually grows as scenes of humiliation play through his head. His decayed relationships could not go in vain, he would not let it. The loved ones he has lost.
"Loved ones I have lost?," he questions himself.
Why does he feel a pang of pain?
Suddenly and with great rage Zhōuqí revolts. His body flails -- the material around him shreds away as his stiffened limbs thrash against the trees, skinning their bark. His anger morphs to fear in the same instant, fear to distraught. What was it that kept him coming here? What was it? What is in this daybreak?

Memory rushed the rooster in the way only morning after immense darkness could.

His loved ones really were sheep who strayed too close to the forest's edge.

Silence folded over the rooster in the way only darkness after a blinding dawn could.

The cycle repeats itself in the way the sun chases the moon.

[DECALIUS]

gl all :0 (it ends in 2 hours i think?)

[sobble]

gl all :0 (it ends in 2 hours i think?)

i think it end tomorrow at midnight ^^

but either way, early goodluck to everyone!

[deoxyribonucleic]

username:
reuxci

name:
alejandro

ten word personality:
he's sassy, elegant, and beautiful. doesn't care about you. cocky.

what does he do at the crack of dawn?
I had to admit, this was absurd.

Why was I up this early? It was the very start of dawn and I was wide awake. It was far too early to be running a comb through my fur, glaring at myself in the mirror. I had a big day today, sure, but this was just dumb. I had a photoshoot today and they'd be messing with my fur anyways.

My useless fluff just wouldn't get straight, I grumbled with annoyance in my tone. There was a rat's nest buried somewhere in my neck, and I cried out in pain as the comb got stuck in that spot. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I grumbled, grabbing my tangle-be-gone spray or whatever the hell it was called, and put the comb down. I shook the bottle and sprayed it in my hair.

I poked at my earring collection - I was proud of those. I never liked needles or anything sharp poking through my skin, although I certainly wouldn't be telling anyone. They made me look tough.

I grunted and shoved a comb through my tangles, again and again, ignoring the tears and small head jerks that threatened my posture and composure. It was tiring work and man, that must sound stupid said out loud, because it sure sounded dumb in my head.

Hours later, boy, it must've been 5 am - I was done. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, fixing my face, wiping tears away. What was I, a baby? Can't even handle a stupid hairbrush.

I sighed and took a shaky breath before standing up. I looked again in the mirror, admiring the perfect tufts of hair, sorted evenly. I ran a hand through my hair to make sure everything was just perfect and fluffy enough for me to keep up my cool yet oddly charming demeanor. Honestly, I looked good today. I felt cute, maybe I would play it shy.

I had big hopes for today, and I was for once prepared.

[RedFur1322]

Username: Sightless

Name: Adela

10 word personality:
A flashy style hides the hurt he feels deep inside.

What do they do at the crack of dawn?

Adela awoke with little trouble, running his paw through his hair as soon as his eyes had been pried open. His crown-themed alarm clock had just started to go off, alerting him of the time at hand.

5:00 AM. Perfect.

With a groggy groan, the Kalon rolled over onto his back and took the time to look up at the canopy of his bed. It was beautiful, massive and royal, much like everything else in his room. But his eyes were not admiring his incredible sense of style, no - they were carefully glancing at a piece of paper the had been hung from a string from the top of the canopy.

The paper swayed in the slight breeze of his room, with crumpled sides and a hole in one of the edges. It was obviously old. The kalon took no time gently grabbing the paper between his talons and tenderly pulling it down from the golden string, his face immediately going from groggy and annoyed to somber.

"Remember her." Was all that was written on the little piece of paper. Two black, cursive words that, to someone else, held no significance whatsoever. But to Adela, those words were his world. A world which, for him, was gone too soon.

To many, Adela lived the life of royalty. But there was no life worth living with her.

The time had come to visit this "her". Prying a door open with gentle precision, Adela seemed to walk into a closet that opened up into a separate, albeit smaller room. But this wasn't just a room to him. It was a shrine. A memorial shrine.

Red candles littered the top of tables and shelves that were placed around the room. A massive rug lay underneath the furniture, leading to a small column in the middle highlighted by the candlelight. And around that column were gorgeous plants, multiple pictures of Adela and some other Kalon, and special dates.

Her name was Joyce.

The pictures told a story only known to Adela- a picture of the in a coffee shop, one of Joyce smiling as she looked down at some pond ducks, and one of her in a hospital bed, her eyes tired yet full of love as she and Adela shared their final kiss.

Adela sat on the rug, his head bowed for quite a while. He did not smile, nor did he weep. Visiting Joyce's memorial had been his morning routine for years now. He never forgot the one he loved, who he had also lost.

When he was done, Adela exited the room with a frown. The small paper still in hand, he returned to his bed and, like clockwork, put the paper back on the golden string. A tear fell from his eye as the paper went back into place. But no matter how many times he did this, it never got easier.

Remember her was the message he woke up to every morning. And remember her he would.

[tigressa]

I've gotten some requests for another extension and some things did come up for me this weekend so I will be extending this contest to March 10th, 2018 @ 11:59 PM EST! Hope you're all having a good weekend so far <33

[web.]

Username: napola.
Name: Phoenix
10 word personality: Smug, condescending, intense, charismatic, suave; "You don't deserve my mercy"
What do they do at the crack of dawn? wip

[E t e r n i t y]

Username: E t e r n i t y
Name: Né Zhā (哪吒) ***one of my absolute favourite deities... I cannot...
10 word personality: Fiery. Brilliant. Misunderstood. Cheeky. Lazy (AKA. "self-care guru"... ok...i see u). Indecisive. Eccentric. Simple. Complex. Forgiving. Opinionated.
What do they do at the crack of dawn? (500 words MAX.)

Sleep in.
Because the world needs more defective roosters and alarm clocks alike and this boi is all for that. cccccc:

[jianwai]

•Username:
hanzo.
•Name:
Liao
•10 word personality:
wake up looking like a tough country boy, cry some.
•What do they do at the crack of dawn?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It is another night of hiding away within the walls of another’s library, hidden among the books where crisp and wrinkled papers alike emit a sweet almond-like scent, and Liao can nestle into a large, plush wingback chair with a hidden flask of juice in his pocket; a rare brand of alone time where he is truly relaxed within the walls of home. While not truly hidden and not completely alone, he was away from the many people, servants and guests alike, who took to wandering the place; in all the time, none seemed to think to find the rooster within the library. Liao was quite the reader, a likely surprise to those ostentatious souls that gathered in such a place, but beyond the chance to read, he found the library to be the place he was most comfortable in; in domestic setting. Nights were spent ever mindless in the library, and when eyes were too heavy, he would curl himself in the wingback chair and sleep.

Before the morning, when dawn begins to crack the landscape with golden hues of honeydew life, he always rises from his seat and heads out.

The cool breeze brushed against warm brown cheeks, sending stray hair across his forehead and tickling the skin. Fingers were wrapped around the cold bottle’s neck, the thumb and forefinger of his other hand currently attempting to open the can of cool, relieving soda. He struggled to open it, mouth pursed as teeth dug deep into the side of his cheek, ripping away flesh as he attempted to pop the soda can open. He was unsuccessful. Only raising the tab just barely with his thumb before it smashed back against the top of the can with a solid tink, the repeated action leaving the tip of his thumb sore and a crack in its nail.

Another gust of wind ruffled the mop of brown hair, except for where his hair curled underneath the ears. Another tink of an unsuccessfully opened can, until he caves inward, using teeth to pop the lid, and stare with amber tar hues at dawns approach.

[a ghost!]

Username: dinah.
Name: pais
10 word personality: the emotions he holds inside seem to near the edge
What do they do at the crack of dawn?


inside the home lay the kalon, the scent of hazel and sweet milk lingered the walls, pais resting his head against the window sill as his breathes alerted his soft sleep. as the crack of dawn rose over the horizon, it's quiet beams shone over pais head as his mind lead him awake for the day. he'd pull his head upwards, away from the white painted wood of the windowsill. his eyes wandered to the view, a large oak stood standing on the hill as it broke the clean light of dawn. he would turn from the sill, beginning his journey as he left the home, the smell of hazel soon leaving his nose as it soon melted away. his body turned to the tree, changing it's course as he strayed from the dusted path. as he neared the oak his eyes grew weary, a small stone set beside it's roots as they branched over the soft ground. his eyes would close, sitting on the grass in front as the tree provided the shade from the continuously rising sun. a feather fell from his head, resting on the stone as it lay. the stone would leave as a grave, his beloved sitting beneath the ground as he sat. he'd turn, leaving the stone with the feather, as he journeyed to the house to begin his day.

as dawn will rise, you may hear the rooster cry.