[Spirit23Wolf]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Prompt:
(Optional) Extras:
Mark hopefully I have time

[chlorophyll]

(incomplete, but running out of time so uhhh)

username: Leafy. | name: Nightingale | gender: Male

-a quick note- even though some things may not fit together as directly part of the story immediately, they do become important later on!

Nightingale. A bird known not for beauty in appearance, but for beauty in song and sound. A name given for its singing through the night. A name given for a child who was believed to become great.

They were wrong. They were wrong, very wrong, so very wrong, as he might say. There was nothing beautiful about him, his actions, his choices. There were too many mistakes to be counted. Too many times he was turned astray. As some say, one's face reflects their personality. A good person might appear nicely. A wicked one appears ugly. A cruel one appears horrid.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A tiny kalon stood, two paws up on the counter, in front of her. A broad smile was drawn out across his face, wide and happy, with eyes gazing up. "Mommy! Look what I found!" the child chirped, holding up something to show his mother. Up in his paws, he held a shell; it gleamed in the lighting with a gentle blue and streaks of purple and yellow-cream. "Oh... How... Nice." She pulled a weak smile, almost obviously not impressed, yet the child still seemed excruciatingly cheerful. As she watched, he poked the shell a couple times, gently murmuring, "Come on out! Come on out!" Quietly and warily, a small creature started to peek out. It, like the shell, shone with vibrant colors of cerulean, violet, orange, and black. Long antennae-like obtrusions stuck out from its head, dangling and shivering. His mother observed it, watching, and told the child, "The snail won't survive if it’s too dry. Go return it back to the ocean." His nose twitched for a moment, thinking, and then he said simply, "I'm keeping it!". She sighed, knowing that he didn’t listen to anything she had just said.

The next morning, the child ran up to her with a whimper. Raising up the snail again, he looked as if he were about to cry. Where the snail once was, just a shell and a crisp of what it used to be was in its place. Again, his mother sighed, and all she did was run her fingers through his fur. "I told you that the snail would dry out if it didn't get enough water." She scolded him. He looked uncertain, looking from the snail, to his mother, and back to the snail. "I..." He started, "I didn't want it to die," he whispered. And all his mother could say was, "Now you know not to do so next time, Nightingale."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A woman kneeled in front of a table, a child held in her arms. A cloaked man sat before them. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow, his mind in deep thought. The woman held her breath, stroking the baby in her arms, seeming to wait for the man to say something. "I...," The man murmured, "I sense... Greatness... Power..." The woman took a deep inhale. The cloaked man proceeded to look up from his bent head before, staring at the child. "This one... His future will hold greatness... Some kind of ruler, perhaps..." And before the woman could even respond, say a single word, he stood up and left.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"So... What have we here?" A voice boomed. Another man stood before him, dressed in simple padded armor, a blade strapped to his back. He gripped two others, blocking their passage. Their hands were tied together behind their back with rope. "They were caught trying to leave, Sir." The man reported. "Deserters, hmmm?" "Yes, Night." "Night what?" Nightingale pressed. "N-Night, Sir." The other stuttered. "That's what I like I like to hear, good." He marveled. "So, what should I do with them?" The other man asked. The two others were young it seemed, and fear shone in their faces, scared to know what their leader would command, what their punishment would be. Nightingale stood, thinking, lost in thought for a moment.
"Kill them." Suddenly, he spoke. The captives shivered, one of them letting out a whimper. The other nudged that one silent. "W-what? B-but... Even that is a bit... Harsh, for you even." The man seemed shocked. "No buts! You're one of my captains, Albatross, you follow my orders. Unless you would like to take their punishment." Night jeered. Albatross looked uncertain, shifting uncomfortably. "No, sir," He finally muttered, "but may I ask why such a harsh punishment?" Nightingale stood, looking at Albatross for a moment, then answering, "Because they know plans, secrets. Things outsiders to the Prowlers shouldn't know. What rank are they? Soldiers? Then they know too much. That’s why." And Albatross could only nod, for even he could see where Night's logic came from.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

It was early. Very early. Why is it so bright? Nightingale pondered as he lay inside of the tent, It must be the moon. Stupid full moon. He tossed and turned, hoping sleep would stop evading him.
After laying there for a considerable amount of time, he gave up. I'm going out, he decided, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Night leaned there for a moment, closing his eyes, before he stood up and stepped out of the tent. Looking up at the trees, he took a deep breath of the cold, fresh air, before noticing a shadowy figure at the entrance of the encampment. "Who's there?" He called out. The figure stopped. Before the figure could do anything, Night rushed at him, at full speed, running to tackle the figure. At impact, the figure let out a cry, falling to the ground. And when Night got a look at the person's face, he himself let out a wail. Before him stood Albatross. "What are you doing?!" He growled. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Albatross coldly responded, "I'm leaving." Nightingale looked at Albatross, his eyes in disbelief, a disbelief that turned quickly to anger. "You can't leave," He commanded, "You stay or you die, like those two a few days ago."
Albatross looked over Night, examining him as he stood. "Then I guess I die." He decided. At this, soldiers and others seemed to have started waking up at the commotion, stepping out of their tents to see what was going on.
"Then I guess you die..." Night said slowly. But why...? he could only wonder. "And what is your excuse for doing so?"
"Because you are not the man I used to know." Albatross said firmly. Curiously, Nightingale tilted his head and asked a simple question- "And who is the man you used to know?"
Albatross closed his eyes and breathed in and out a few times, and as he opened his eyes he began. "You used to be different. When we were kids, you were always so innocent. We could tell you something and you would be in awe. You were naive, we could tell you a lie and you would believe it. You hated to hurt things, you would cry over small things like a fly being crushed or a spider dying. Or one time, that sea snail that dried up. You couldn't take to see anyone in pain. You were caring."
Nightingale considered that for a moment, then finally opted, "Then that man does not exist anymore."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The execution was to be in two mornings, the next morning and the one after that. Nightingale chose to do it in front of the entire legion, to show all that "that is what happens to traitors". From there, all he had to tell Albatross was, "Enjoy living while you can."

No, He could only repeat in his head, over and over, I can't do it, I can't kill him, I can't, I can't. I should leave, get out of here while I can, I can't do it. Nightingale tore at his fur, eyes wide in the night, as he lay awake for a second time. What Albatross had said, what choice he made, was never expected to Night. I'm going to do it, I'll leave, He started to recite in thought. Night shook his head, tearing at himself with furious scratching. Again, he sat up, propping himself on one arm, and again closing his eyes. Albatross was right. I have changed. I was different. As he mused with the ideas longer, a new thing to ponder came to mind. One that scared him.
How many more will die?
And a feeling crept upon him, one that told him that the answer would be many more if something didn't change, soon. And with that notion, that night, Nightingale abandoned it all, his power, his respect, and more importantly, the person he had become.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dark, red berries lay in a piece of bark serving as a plate. Night kneaded them with his hands, crushing them under his palms and claws. A red paste formed, staining the bark. The same color was faded in his orange fur. Taking the dripping liquid, Night splashed on himself, lathering it in to bring back the red color where he could. Then, with open paws, he scooped a handful of mud by the small stream he was stationed by. Again, he smeared the mud across his skin, covering his orange streaks and turning many areas a dark brown. Satisfied, he turned around, grabbing a simple sack. It was obviously full, unable to hold any more.
About to sling the bag over his shoulder, Night’s grip faltered and the bag dropped slightly. I single object fell out. A mushroom.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Mushrooms! Get some mushrooms!” A man called out, “Cheap! A dollar each for the big ones!” Civilians passed by, some stopping and giving him money for some mushrooms to use in the evening’s meal. Though Nightingale was strange, his goods were generally accepted as trustworthy. His prices were good, the flavor there.
“Say, you look like Night, the leader of the Prowlers!” A woman exclaimed as she passed by. “No, no, of course not,” Night replied, “I don’t think Night would be a mushroom salesman.” He gave her a warm smile, though if you looked closely, you could see a sly but fearful look in it.

He passed through the village about once per week, with fresh foods from the forest. Though he set up shop in the merchant’s square, which required a fee to use the stands, many pitied him and helped pay it. “He already doesn’t have enough money,” they would say.
Soon before the sunset, with everything sold, Nightingale packed up his belongings. Walking up to another stand, he handed the man there his earnings of the day in exchange for bread and water. Without a word, he took the food and left, out to the road; Nightingale set off to wherever his heart longed to go, to travel and keep going, even in his hiding. Because the key to it all was his hope, hope in a better future.

Extra Art!
Extra Writing! [1361 Words]

[rain,]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Prompt: they're a runner, they've always been a runner. just too afraid to look back and face the consequences. leaving them behind in their time of need, making reckless decisions, getting into so much trouble and leaving others behind for their own survival.
(Optional) Extras:

[SpartanAmethyst]

"Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could,
they didn't stop to think if they should."
- Ian Malcolm


One signature could be the difference between success and failure.
Will you support us, and let him have a second chance at life?
> Support the Causexxxx> Ignore this Request

"Life always offers us a second chance. It's called tomorrow.
So don't give up against adverse circumstances and keep fighting."
-Anurag Prakash Ray

[milo.]

mark!

[Areater]

omg i've fallen hopelessly in love

username: areater
name: spruce
gender: male
prompt:
- running from his past life as an assassin: he's not really being chased, but he's desperately trying to outrun his own guilt and fear
- he wants to trust again but he had a run-in with charlotte that scared him into hiding again
extras:
personality -- used to be more charismatic & confident; has become more nervous and paranoid

[endless shelter;;]

Username: endless shelter;;
Name:
Gender:
Prompt:
(Optional) Extras:
MARK

[lasagna !!]

marking to watch, there's gotta be awesome stuff here

wish I was talented enough to participate

[VanossGaming]

Link to forum ^

[AboveAspen]

Mark <33