[aerofox.]

||Username||
aerofox.
||Name||
Aitháli
//Aitháli means "soot" in Greek (I Believe)//
||Gender||
Female
||Their Job & What They Think of It||
Aitháli loves her job with all her heart; she lives on the planet Zohali, with many other Kalons. Zohali is a beautiful, lush planet full of life. Aitháli's job, to put it short, is that she puts the stars in the sky. She uses her special magic jetpack powered by imagination to fly way high up into the cosmos, arranging the stars in whatever pattern wanted. A perk of the job is that since she it the only Kalon with the career, she gets to make up her own patterns, or even write inspiring messages in the sky. She is also allowed to take a handful of stars to gift to people if they had a bad day. The bigger the star, the sweeter the taste! There is not really a flavor, they just leave a very sweet sugary taste on your tongues! Occasionally her job can get boring, but she always changes it up, so there's usually no problem!

Her and many other Kalons have the privilege to create the stars. The stars are made of imagination, sugar, and are kept together by the hopes and dreams of the children. If there is not enough Hopes and Dreams, the stars rain colorfully out of the sky.
res.

WIP, I might change her name

[Birdy]

The Pirate



Eunomia



Agender (they/them)





This kalon has the unique pleasure of creating other kalons- or rather, attempting to- through the complex science of starmation, which is using stardust to create a living organism.

These are their thoughts:

"Did you know that we are all made of stardust? Around 93%, to be exact. Not everyone is aware of this, but those who are seldom forget. Why is that? Why do we hold so much value in stars- those glowing orbs that light up our night and guide us home? Is it their twinkle or their spark, their shimmer or their dance that entrances us so? Reach for the stars, they say- but what is the reason?

The reality is, the stars we see on our darkest nights are not even there. In fact, they’re more of a memory of what once was. They’re the illumination of gods who have already succumbed to night, but in doing so, they created us. Is that why we seem to worship them- those bodies with no voice? Because they make us who we are?

My job is not a recognized occupation- I am not an adventurer, nor a gatherer. I am not a “scientist” as others have claimed, nor am I “mad”. I am a star. I am a star who shines today, yet I look for the stars of yesterday. The stardust in me still floats out there- out in the void, the graveyard of its own body. It is my job to return it, to take it home to the stars here on Earth. It is my job to create more stars.

Yes, I am aware of the…controversy…of my field. The others do not understand. They do not see the beauty in making more stars- we are all stars, of course. Sure, there have been complications, but not every star shines in the beginning. But rest assured- they will.

We are all stars."

[316]

[The Worst Username]

(Hello! I had no idea what to write, so I just came up with some...thing. This story is set in a world where Kalons are humans, by the way. 768 words.)

Username
The Worst Username

Name/Gender
Recalcitrant/Female

No one is in the library this early except for myself and the little old woman.

She sits at the end of the 200’s aisle with her books, always, at about five in the morning when we open. Her thin, oily, white hair contrasts with the skin dark like charcoal; her dress is a patchwork quilt of worn, dirty rags and cheap fabric; the woman’s face is lined with age and experience, but there is kindness in her eyes. I always liked that little old woman, though we never talk.

She has already plopped down on the dull, grey-brown carpet between two high shelves that reach to the pockmarked yellow ceiling, resting in her aged finery beneath a small window. The woman is here every day from five to six in the morning. I suppose she has better things to do then sit in a library all day, unlike myself.

I, meanwhile, am putting books back on their shelves, going over each time-worn cover with a melancholy hand. Slaughter-House Five, 1984, Animal Farm, and Deadeye Dick were all returned last night. Francesca—20-somethings biracial girl who works here part-time and is as smart as they come—must have forgotten to put them away, but I don’t really mind.

Francesca’s kind of cold, to be honest, but she’s muscular, intelligent, selfless, knows how to fix a car, and frankly, she’s grown on me. Just like that old woman, I know she’s got a story that’s begging to be told.

I look back down at all the books. God, I wish I could write this kind of stuff. Station Eleven: fantastic. The Book Thief: beautifully written. Divergent: terribly written but also terribly popular.

I prop my head up on my hand. When I was a little girl, I loved books. I grew up, went to school, became an ER nurse, worked, retired, got bored, went to work at a library, and now I’m here. I still love books, but the problem is, now they make me sad. To know that I never created something like this, that I’m just a reader and that I never contributed to the world of literature…it’s just depressing.

I pull my pad of paper out from my pants pocket. Most of the time, I use it for writing down grocery lists, doing quick calculations, and the like, but today, it will be used for something different.

Today, I will tell the story of this library, and I will write it all on this pad of paper. I start walking toward the other side of the room. But as I walk down past the shelves to the great third-floor window, something stops me. It’s the old woman: she’s scribbling something down. The sound her pencil makes on the yellow paper echoes across the whole floor and into my ears.

I hesitate, taking in a breath and walking a small step back, but then I start taking careful steps forward in her direction. Soon I quicken my pace, and the woman looks up. Her head is cocked and she raises one eyebrow, erasing wrinkles and creating new ones across her face. My throat gets tight.

“Not good around people, eh?” Her voice is sudden in the quiet library, and confident but not arrogant. A wise voice, like her wise face.

“Mmm. Yep. That’s the case,” I say, my words as clipped and my sentences as snappy as always.

“Well, what are you doing over here?” The woman shuffles a bit; she pats the carpet next to her.

I take in a breath and sit down. “I noticed you writing.”

“Well, I’m writing a book. ‘Least I’m trying,” she says with a hoarse chuckle.

“Oh. So am I. Actually,” I mutter.

“What are you writing about?”

“Erm. I suppose…the library, yes. And the people here, like Francesca. And you, maybe. Maybe me.”

“Hmm. Well, I think that sounds like a good idea. I’ve got a beginning. You get to the prologue.”

I shuffle uncomfortably. “Prologue? Oh. Um. Okay, sure.” I pick a pen from my pocket. The old woman smiles, and the library falls into silence again.

I start writing: “No one is in the library this early…”

I look back at the woman, who writes furiously in crabbed script. I look down at my cursive loops, then at the shelves full of musty old books. I continue.

“except for myself and the little old woman.” I stab the paper with a pen to finish the first sentence, and I grin.

You know, sometimes, I really love this job.

Sorry. That was a terrible ending. Eh, whatever. Good luck everyone, and have a great day!

[Tocotoucan2]

Username: Tocotoucan2
Name: Sprite
Gender: Female
Their Job & What They Think of It: Sprite is an animator! Sprite absolutely loves animating, except sometimes it can get a bit busy so she has to stay up late and finish all her work. There are some downs about her job, but she still highly enjoys it! sorry! I'm on a phone so I couldn't do much.

[PikaPerfect]

Username:
HyperPikaGirl

Name:
Flitter

Gender:
Female

Their Job & What They Think of It:
Flitter works in an animal shelter. She loves animals, and adores being with them. She would die to save a wild creature's life, and it makes her cry to see one in pain. She works at the shelter because she wants to try and give these sweet little critters homes. However, she couldn't hate the job more.
Flitter's first day on the job went quite well. She walked in and immediately fell in love with each of the animals there, particularly a small black puppy, similar to this one. Every day of work, Flitter would come in and play with the little puppy. They went for walks, played fetch, and did everything while the work day dragged along. Flitter just wasn't sure she was ready for the responsibility of puppy, so she wanted to wait longer to adopt him. Every work day was the same joy for her. Meeting the puppy, who she eventually called Cooki, and playing with him. Every person who walked into the shelter smiled whenever they saw Flitter and Cooki playing together.
One morning, Flitter bounded down the sidewalk to her job. She pushed the door open and set up her work things. Immediately after, she ran to Cooki's crate. To Flitter's dismay, Cooki wasn't there. This was normal, though. Perhaps Cooki was just being walked or getting a check-up? Either way, Flitter decided to ignore it. An hour passed, and Cooki still hadn't been brought back. Worried, Flitter made her way to the back room to ask if anyone had seen Cooki. Suddenly, Flitter saw something that hammered her heart into a million pieces.
-
Laying on the metal table was a small, black, soft ball. It wasn't moving, however it was still breathing.
"C-Cooki...?" Flitter whispered as she walked, mortified, towards her best friend.
Cooki flinched, but didn't move. Flitter whispered Cooki's name again, but this time Cooki's tail thumped once very weakly. Carefully, Flitter shifted her paw beneath Cooki and lifted him from the table. He looked up at her with glazed eyes and let out a whimper.
"It's... I... Cooki..." Flitter's eyes began filling with tears which slowly began to run down her cheeks.
Cooki lifted his head as best he could to look up at Flitter. She noticed something change in his gaze, but she was too emotional over his nearing death to care. Everyone at the shelter was clearly aware that Flitter would kill herself to save that dog, and they had euthanized him! Why?! Flitter closed her eyes and sobbed in loud, heart-breaking shakes. Cooki's once folded ears lifted weakly, and he whimpered again. Flitter just sobbed harder. The shelter employees stood back and, though they tried to stop it, let tears run down their cheeks as well. Suddenly, Cooki vomited on the floor and laid back in Flitter's arms.
Flitter hugged him tightly, but noticed something. His breathing! It was getting... stronger? But... how? Flitter decided she would try and save him, since he tried to be saving himself. Clinging to Cooki, she bolted to the nearest veterinary hospital to try and save him. The vets there recognized the Kalon and the dog immediately, and, after a few seconds, realized what was wrong.
"You can't stop the effects of euthanasia, Flitter."
"I don't care! You can do something can't you?! He's trying to save himself! He's closer to life than death right now, you can try!"
The vets knew Flitter wouldn't give up on Cooki, so they took the "sickly" puppy.
-
A few hours later, the vets came back out, holding Cooki.
"Flitter I- this has got to be some sort of miracle dog. I have never seen a puppy look death right in the eyes like this and survive. This is truly incredible."
Cooki barked, the vet smiled, and Flitter jumped up and hugged Cooki so tightly he started wheezing. Tears covered her face again, but this time they were tears of joy. Flitter let up slightly so Cooki could breathe, but still hugged him like a child hugs its mother. Cooki squirmed out of her grasp, and started licking her face like mad. Flitter stood up, Cooki in her paws, and smiled at the veterinarian who had become Cooki's savior.
"I really didn't think he'd make it, but he kept fighting the whole time he was in there. I can't even begin to voice how amazing that little dog is. I believe you two are going to be the best of friends."
Flitter wiped away her tears, and looked up at the veterinarian with glowing eyes.
"Thank you so much."
And with that, Flitter and Cooki went home.
-
Skip forward a few years, and Cooki is now a big, strong German Shepherd. He is very protective of Flitter, but he is also very loving. As much as Flitter desperately wants to take him to the shelter with her every day, she knows exactly how that will turn out. The poor dog has had one of the worst experiences ever there. Every morning, Flitter says good-bye to her buddy, and walks to work. She wants to quit her job there, but if she did that she wouldn't have enough money to care for herself AND Cooki. The result? She's willing to endure the sadness of the animal shelter she works at if it means keeping herself and Cooki healthy and alive.
Flitter desperately wishes the shelter were a no-kill shelter, but she can't change that.
Yet.
Every work day is another day spent diligently working to the best of her ability. One day, perhaps she can be given enough authority to change the shelter to a no-kill, and maybe one day she can create another bond just as strong as her and Cooki's.

[bvrd]

possible res

[WolfwithWings38]

Username: WolfwithWings38
Name: Ivoj Nob (Bon Jovi backwords) Though he prefers to be called Bob or Slice or Pizza Slice... Only his mom/dad/crush can call him Ivoj Nob
Gender: Male
Their Job & What They Think of It: Their job is to cook sushi and he actually hates it because the smell, taste, looks of it makes him have a headache or a reaaallly sick to his stomach but feels like he's stuck with no other option, but to work as a taxi driver in the place he's at, and he hates driving for people too so he has to wait till he can move which will take till he's 26, (he's 15 right now so he has alooong ways to go) So he's basically stuck if he wants to have money right now.....

[friggin' foxes]

Username: 9TailedFox
Name: Soot
Gender: Male
Their Job & What They Think of It: His job is to throw coal into the furnace on an old spirit train. The work is hard and he constantly works, he's always trying his hardest and always stays focused, he never falls behind while working in the hot room, he takes short breaks, when eating lunch he usally eats chocolate pudding with sprinkles. He always thought his job was tough but he never wavered he's very strong due to shovling the coal and has a soft spot for sweets. He likes dark places and is very brave. He always takes care of business and dosnt goof off to much.

I love his movies and spirited away is my all time favorite! I will freak if I get this, there arent meny of us fans out there sadly.

[clouds-move-on]

ENDS TOMORROW AT 5:00 PM EST.
Try and finish your forms up by then. c: There will be no extensions given.

[huddson]

good luck everybody!