[䏠xote]

mark, wowzer
gee i always love your designs, eonian!!

[seraphs]

mark!! how cute,,

[Happily Wrathful]

mark but im pretty sure ive already lost ^-^

[alyxmin]

username: starburst,
name: nina
gender: male to an extreme female
who, where, why?
who;;
the kalon growled as you looked at her, their gaze piercing your skin and making your hands go numb. nina wasn't a nice girl, she was a kalon who would punch you just because she didn't like how you looked. she didn't like being like this, but that's a whole other story. you trembled, her looks radiating fear. '' i-i'm new here... can you tell me who you are? '' you said quietly.

'' I am nina. '' she said, her gaze giving off no emotion whatsoever. '' you? '' she said, saying hardly anything. she flicked her tail back and forth, and you looked at your feet as you said your name. '' hmm. interesting. come. '' she said, and you stayed put. she rolled her eyes before grabbing your hand and pulling you off to a tunnel that was hidden.

'' i have a feeling about you. '' she said, and you looked up surprised. '' you might be better off living here. '' as she said that, she lifted her gaze to the place around you, and you realized this was a secret base. '' welcome to the gang. '' she said, smiling.
(( basically she's a depressed female who's a bit aggressive. she is part of a group of kalons who fight the evil kalons of her town ))

where;;
she lives in a city full of criminals and baddies, where she used to live in a small apartment before it burned to ashes because of criminals setting fire to it. nina luckily survived, and after that, she was on the streets for a while as she looked for a good spot to sleep (most hotels are robbed and burnt every day) and being the stubborn girl she was, she stayed in town with a grudge.

as kalons in a good gang heard about her grudge, they happily took her in and now she's moving her way up the ranks to make her city a great one, before the baddies and everyone.

why;;
why is she so.... aggressive?
she was never 'loved' by her parents, and at a few years old she was sent to the streets where she learned love didn't exist. (in her mind, anyway.) she thinks love isn't real, and so when somebody acts like they 'love' her she immediately hates them, thinking they're lying.

the only kalons she isn't aggressive too are the gang, which have her trust automatically because she learned they do care for her. the gang is like the family she never had, the family she wishes she had.

why is she part of the gang?
nina strives to be something more, to be remembered and not forgotten in time. she wants to just do nothing, to be just an ordinary kalon seems to be a fear for her. this is why she's part of the gang, if she helps this city she'll be remembered, she'll be put in a history book to be never lost in time.
optional extra:
may add more

[Soll]

dropping out because ppl are better at life than me.

[Qualified.]

username: zshimmer88

name: Ace

gender: Male

sexuality: Questioning

Who: No one truly knows what this little beast is. Some say he's straight from Hell, other's may say he was created, but very few find him to be 'normal'. Most avoid him or are at least cautious around him, fearing for the worst. True, he may feed on your fear and dreams, but he isn't looking to harm anyone even if he does have a bit of an attitude. He tries, but most get away as soon as they can. Of course this has caused rumors, making people look down on him even more than they already do. At first people tried to drive him away, thinking he was sent from the devil himself, but soon allowed him to stay when they realized he wasn't causing any real harm, although they still do not trust him as much as any other townsfolk. He has no memory of his parents other than a soft cooing voice from when he was just a cub. But after that, any other memories were lost. He was raised by the only one who ever accepted him, a young Kalon from the town. She would always sneak off to take care of the young cub. Though one day his caretaker had gotten sick and had died only a few weeks later. By this time he was already able to hunt and he could remember everything even if he refused to think about it. He had lost the only one that truly accepted him and the only parent figure he had ever known. He isolated himself for a long time, but soon returned to the town, after a while deciding he wanted to make a change an try to make them accept him. He knows he isn't like the others, but that wont stop him from trying.

Where: He travels around, but will almost always return to a small town. The small town is old fashioned and the population is small. Most of the people there are friendly, but of course most think differently of Ace, which has practically made him the outcast. He usually goes into the town, but truly lives in the eerie forest surrounding part of the town. He chooses to remain there and finds it to be the only place he can be alone and away from people. He has a small, but cozy home inside the side of a hill, having made it himself since he found the forest to be his true home, it being the first place he can remember. The forest was once green with life but has now became dull and even eerie.

Why: He feels a need to stay where he is. He loves his home and finds that it's all he has left. There is also this odd feeling pulling him back when he leaves, pulling him back to an odd place in the forest. His shine would flicker when he went there and he would feel different, but could never figure out what it was. He also felt that if he planned on staying, he wanted to try to make a change and make the townsfolk accept him. He hated having to always be avoided and have everyone treat him differently, even some shops refusing to sell to him so he mostly took to making his own things. He wanted someone to accept him and to actually have friends since he never truly had one and is constantly getting this lonely, empty feeling inside of him.
optional extra:



Edit** Only edited past the end of the contest because I noticed the image hadn't been showing up. Sorry!

[Rinovo]

username: Rin ;v;
name: Ombra
gender: Male
who, where, why?

"Who are you?"

"A dream. We are all dreams."

A boy playing with his young mother. A boy who had the biggest smile when he saw his father return home from the war. A boy who shared half a candy bar with the crying girl who had become lost at the park and waited until her parents were found. The boy who had his own dreams of becoming an astronomer. The boy who ran outside in the middle of the night to count the stars. The boy who was heading to college to furfill his lifelong dream of learning more about the wonders of the night. The boy who loved his family dearly and promised to visit often.

The boy who failed to look both ways while crossing the street.

"Where are we?"

"Trapped in our minds."
wip



"Why are we here?"

"Because we all made mistakes."
wip
optional extra:

[GrimmKitty]

username
I'llBeTheMadHaTTer

name
Fukushū
(meaning 'revenge')

gender
male

who
Darkness was the first thing that greeted my eyes. My memory all but shattered and gone. I stumbled through the darkness, trying to find something, anything. Brightness scorched my eyes and a squeezed them shut. Blinking to get used to the world I discovered to my horror, the moon was black and the night sky was red. Who was I and why am I here? Time passed but the night never ceased, I traveled the devoid world looking for answers, finding out that this place wasn't as deserted as I once thought. I named myself revenge and set off on my quest.

where
I soon came to call this place "The Red Night" as so many other trapped souls I met did. It was a alternate reality. A time that shouldn't exist. The only way to get in was to be trapped by it's creator. This faceless and nameless creator haunts my dreams and plagues my shadow, taunting me with the never ending crimson night.

why
No matter how much I asked myself, I didn't understand how I deserved such a fate. What could I have possibly done? No one here know exactly why they are there. Neither did I. Was this some part of hell? To torment the mind until I go mad?

[cocoa]

inspiration struck so -shrugs- im riding it out

username: colour54
name: Faolan
gender: male
who, where, why?

who they are
I am, under no uncertainty, more than you think I am.

But I suppose it could depend on how you look at it, because, it could also be very well a lie.

And, but -- again, yes -- this isn't about you. This what I believe who I am, and so I will tell you just that.

My name is Faolan, and I'm a kalon, like anyone on these streets. Yet, I tend to grasp the eyes of others in ways I never quite realize. If it wasn't for the vibrant red splattering my coat and my eye-catching shine, which, the color of has always reminded me of soft sweets, a cross between jolly-rancher watermelon and cherry, I might be able to go on easier. But people look, and they pause - is that blood...?

Alas, they are fools: they don't know what blood looks like. At the first cut blood is vibrant red, but still darker than mines: and then it darkens, and crusts to brown. I know that well - better than many else, in fact. Many get afraid when I mention that, though... I fear I do not understand why. I only work at the local butcher's.

Yes -- the butchers, you exclaim? Do your eyes hold suspicion? I fear, my friend, your suspicion is misdirected. I'll give you some gossip -- you know that man who runs it? He hired me... alas, three years ago, now, a fortnight from which I had turned seventeen. November, cold months good for keeping meat, and busy for people in search of fine cuts for their Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.

He grabbed me off the streets, with his glove-laden hands, and said, "Kalon, oh, oh, do you have a job? I would like to hire you very much..."

I hate that man, but I took the job because he offered good money, and free training. "The perfect way to cut meat," the man said, gleaming whites of his teeth on display. I learned, and by some days, my black paws were not so dark anymore. He gives many glances, as if checking to see that I am not gone; other days, he lets me handle the shop alone. I let him; besides being strange and hated, it is dealable. What kind of job has one where you don't hate your boss?

Oh? Rest assured, I'm not derailing from the question. What better way to show you who I am than this story...? Shh, just listen. I like to tell my stories, you see. I'll like your expression.... Hopefully I didn't unnerve you, friend.

Anyhow -- there was a day, the butcher owner was gone longer than usual. I wondered, and finally dared the ask the next time he had come back: circles under his eyes, and new meat to bring in. "Hunting, especially good cuts this time," he said. Too normal for that man, but then, he grasped my shoulders tightly and said: "Do you want to come with me?" He smiled, as if he knew something of me that I had shared with him. As if we were year old friends.

We aren't, so I went with him. Cautious, too curious for my own good, and set in my ways. Not a good combination. (I don't care though.)

My boss took us out of town, into the more rural areas. He took us to an old junkyard, with a lot full of cars, none too flashy -- nearly blending into the surroundings. He said something like, "Just your place, huh kid?"

I smiled, instinctively, at the man: a smile reserved for people who were so wrong they were dumb. I thought something like, ah,
this has happened before. Because so often people mistook me for someone I wasn't: me, oblivious of their suspicious thoughts, until it shone in their eyes.

I followed the man, because I was too curious for my own good.

It was not a dog-fighting ring; it was not a high-profile gang meeting; it was not a cannibal tribe; it was not a secret service meeting. No, the man -- my boss -- was a simpleton in the criminal world, the lowest rung, hoping on some fervent dream that working a stall at a black market will make him any greater. My boss sold exotic meats and pelts, specially cut by him. He worked long and struck hard bargains. He got into fights over it, defending the petty cut he gets from his boss, and his very job. It was not a nice job: he was hit, pitied for the man he was to come into crime, desperate for money, and bags building under his eyes. He was a hopeful fool, who thought he could gain something -- status? money? -- by bringing a pretty stranger who looks like a crime boss.

I am not a crime boss. I will never be one. The men at that black market eyed me, twisted their mouths into scowls at the sight of me with the old man. Naturally, one threatened me when I stared too long, curious. That one perhaps knew the truth of what I was.

I gave him the smile when I think someone's dumb, because guess what?

I'm the self-acclaimed best actor you've ever met, and I'm a crime boss.


where they are

I was born in Romania, one of the most superstitious countries in the world - you can barely take a step without someone saying swearing you'll be dead by Christmas. Naturally, my birth had people swearing I'd be a crime boss by fifteen. Or be the next Dracula. But the first came first: and, if you know me, I tend to be set in my ways -- maybe too gullible -- and took that superstition as the truth and grew up believing that's just what I'm going to be.

My parents were rich, and we lived in a nice house, with cobblestone walls. My parents had me well-educated and made sure my media access was limited, so I could speak proper. Quietly, I think, our home was like Dracula's, but not yellow: that probably contributed to everything. The city is built close together, full of busy cars and busy people. In all of the bustle, there are corners tucked away; corners that I, curious and set at my destiny, made some new friends in alleyways.

The butcher shop was a place a few miles from my family home, a convenient place to work and strangely calming, with the bustle of tourists and holiday-goers and locals coming and going. They knew this butcher was the best in town; I smiled the kind of smile I give everyday to my men, and take their orders, and cut the meat.

My mafia's headquarters was in a out-of-the-way apartment building, no cameras, and sharp and sleek, but not flaunting too much money. Save that for the guns, and the guest rooms. I quite like it, ever since I was introduced.

But -- I suppose where I really am is still stuck in worn and familiar corridors of my childhood home, still locked into the same motion of this is what I'm going to be. That is, until...


why..?

Some mafias believe that the only leader should be a descendant of the former; it is a family-led business. But in Romania*, it was not just the family that led: but the people in the world that were born and simply meant to lead. That meant me and my coat and upbringing, and they took my destiny and made it real.

Nobody of my life knew who I was, and the superstitions I took to heart from the moment I was able to understand. Nor did the butcher; I think he wanted to help me achieve my destiny, and he would have helped me had he come years earlier. But my destiny is already set, my friend. Or I suppose I thought I did.

I always thought: This is what I'll be. It's in my fur, it's in my eyes, it's in my paws, it's in the legends and the stories and in the words of those around me. Yet, some desperate man searching for something I don't think even he knew what it was, came to me and asked me to do a simple job. It wasn't what everyone had always said I was going to be: I was too pristine for it. So, it wasn't something I thought I would do either.

But I did it anyway, because I thought the man was strange, and I was curious. I wanted to learn and see what it was, what the possibility of another life was, the door wide open in front of me. At first, I think I was acting -- and until the very end, I still was, but I should know that someone like me would never be truly set in their ways, as opportunity always exists. In an odd way, I too wanted to help the poor owner of butcher's. At that black market -- one I didn't know of, mind you. It was apparently small, for mutts and fiercely loyal men outside of my mafia. I offered the butcher solace, and the market mercy.

I hated the man, but I was not cruel, nor did I punish what the desperate man had inadvertently gifted me: freedom... ah, I've gone on too long, haven't I? Now, now, you've heard enough.

Ah, don't ask why, my friend. You'll just never be able to speak of this again, am I clear? If not... well, we have some plans for you.


optional extra:
None. If the writing in the prompt is too much, apply it to that. If I went over some word limit I skipped, kick me.

[deerbroken]

username: neongraveyard
name: Beowulf
gender: male (he/him/his)
who, where, why?

Who?
Beowulf is the lord of darkness. The evil present in your nightmares. The ethereal void creeping ever further into our midst. During the week, he's also a barista. Beowulf has a love for gothic subculture, the occult, and urban myths. He's been fascinated with cryptids since he was very young, and used to search for creatures in his home town with his parents. This kalon enjoys writing his own poetry and voicing soliloquies in his free time. He often joins friends in poetry competitions and camping trips to the deep parts of the woods in their home. He has a cold personality but warms up to those around him with time. This process goes much faster if the other kalon in question has similar interests. He reveres Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost, and other classic writers, as well as the contemporary authors making themselves known. He thrives at night and often takes walks later in the evening. He longs for greatness.

Where?
Beowulf spends his time in varying different places; his favorites are typically cemeteries, libraries, and forests. His need to explore and discover are constantly present in his personality, and this easily leads to him getting himself lost. He has no trouble finding his way home, and his intimidating appearance usually keeps him from getting into scuffs with others.

Why?
Why? It's a question often asked. Beowulf himself brings these words to his lips more and more each day. Why does the sun rise in the morning? Why do we exist? Why can't he remember that one recipe for the milk tea latte? The struggles never end.

optional extra:

Will finish the rest if I have time ^^;