[Petcharat]

Mark might enter.

[Creative]

by thewibbler

"There are some stories meant to be remembered in the form of legends or myths. Sometimes a tale of caution, other times of courage, mostly they serve a purpose. The story I will tell you carries a deadly warning with it. Be ever mindful of humility and do not set paw near the untended human land two hills towards sunset, for the land itself is cursed, as is the being who laid it.

One thousand years ago, yes a long time indeed, but only the blink of an eye to one immortal, the kalons around these territories were known in particular for goodnatured pranks and teasing towards humans. Farming equipment would be put out of place, sheep spooked into running back into their pens from the pastures, pies put on the window sill to cool would be replaced with its weight in berries. Nuisances, annoyances, but nothing ill-willed or hurtful.

As you know, we kalons don't usually play pranks on others, but in the days that have long since passed into faded memories, we were spurred on by a kalon who was different than most. Her fur was the purest shade of white, her mane was large, and as soft as new fallen snow, her shine was a bright luminous red, matching her eyes and what little markings she had. But what made this kalon special, was what she could do.

She did what no other kalon ever dreamed of being able to do. With but a thought, she summoned and controlled blue fire in her paws, she floated above the ground as if she were a feather on the breeze, and she conjured illusions so real you would swear upon your life they were true. What was perhaps most impressive though, was that she could transform into a small fox at will with the help of a beautiful orb she called her star ball and a mask carved from the same material, made to look like a fox's face.

Her star ball was magic in its own right, ever so gently floating around her, softly bobbing up and down on the wind as if it were carried by waves rather than the breeze. It was faintly iridescent, shining beautifully, almost as if it were a pearl or opal. It was bonded to her, amplifying what powers she already possessed on her own, though in return she was tied to its fate as well.

While the star ball was a blessing to her, her own spirit was contained within it. Should anything happen to the star ball, so it would also happen to her.

The mask, though made of the same material as the star ball, seemed to not have any sort of powers on its own, save for disappearing and reappearing whenever she wished it to. Though it served no true purpose, it served as a symbol of sorts. When she wore the mask, the kalons with her knew that she was going off to prank whoever she could find.

For generations, lifetimes, she lived happily in the valley, loved dearly by the kalons, just as she loved them in return. But she was loved less so by the humans, growing more and more tired of the pranks with each passing year. They were growing increasingly frustrated with finding their livestock herded out of their pen or back into their pen before they wanted them to be, to find clothes hung up to dry muddied again or taken off to the river and returned dripping wet, creating illusions of coyotes to spook the sheep, or other ultimately harmless though infuriating pranks.

Sick and tired of the kalons' tricks, the humans confronted the nine-tailed kalon, demanding that she and the others stop. She laughed, insisting it was all in good fun and there was no sense to stopping when they were merely playing innocent tricks. The humans demanded once more that they stop, claiming there was nothing innocent about their tricks, that they had suffered through the pranks for generations at this point and they were now done with the tricks. They warned her and her followers one last time to stop the fooling around, else there would be consequences.

Again, she laughed it off, thinking the humans merely annoyed and bluffing. They gave her three days to put a stop to the pranks before they would return with the consequences they promised.

The pranks did not stop, if anything they increased in frequency, spurred by the humans' perceived pettiness. Dogs that they owned were urged into barking half the night and waking up all in earshot, chickens were stirred up into frenzies, illusions of large scary shadows began to plague the humans, and all this was in addition to the same pranks they had pulled before as well.

Three days the humans endured this, and on the third, they charged the nearby forests in a rage, looking for the nine-tailed kalon. They found her lounging in a meadow, and when she saw how enraged the humans had become she realized her mistake. They hadn't been bluffing. Fearful, she fled from the meadow, trying to lose her pursuers in the forest, throwing up as many illusions as she could as she ran. The humans were done with her tricks though. They paid no heed to the illusions she conjured, herding her back to the village where they had laid an ambush.

They cornered her, trapped her, and yelled that they had given her a chance to redeem herself, to stop this. They yelled that this was no longer their fault, that she had brought this upon herself. They had tried to stop this.

Cornered, with no where left to run, the nine-tailed kalon lashed out at them, trying to force them away from her. But it was of no use. They grabbed her star ball and in one swift motion, threw it to the ground before bringing down a hammer onto it as hard as they could, smashing it to pieces.

In the humans' defense, they only knew that the star ball amplified her powers, they knew not how. That was a secret among the kalons, lest anything happen to it, but that secret was what would be her ruin. The humans knew not how she was connected to the ball, or in that smashing the orb they would be destroying her soul.

A painful scream tore through the valley, louder than any thought was possible, and the humans ran, afraid of what they had just done, not understanding what it was they had caused. Pained, fearful, betrayed, the scream rang out for what seemed an eternity before fading as the kalon fell to her side, limp. Her shine faded in color. The fragments of the star ball scattered on impact, as if an immense force threw them to all corners of the valley. Infinite small shards, scattered to the winds all about the valley, save for one. A single shard remained where the star ball had been, just out of her reach. But still, she just lay there.

Not moving. Not breathing. In shattering her star ball they had shattered her spirit. And with it, her very life.

The humans slowly returned to where they had left her, uncertain the extent of what they had done. When they arrived though, they found her missing. Her once lifeless body was gone without a trace, as was the one remaining shard.

In the short term their plan worked, albeit harsher than intended. The kalons grew fearful and skittish of the humans and dared not play anymore tricks on them, especially without the nine-tailed kalon, who never returned to them. Though despite the kalons now no longer playing pranks on them, after a month the pranks increased tenfold over what they used to be, both in frequency and severity.

Where before it was only every other week that a prank was played, now it was becoming every day. Instead of replacing pies on the window sill with berries, the pies were thrown back inside the house to land on the floor in a mess. The sheep were chased much farther away from their pens, broken glass appeared from seemingly nowhere outside the front doors of houses, dogs barked much more viciously during the night before being abruptly cut off, farming equipment become unusable by way of being broken beyond repair. The dogs were fine in the morning though, if only a little more skittish than usual.

The pranks were no longer only pranks. This was a matter of revenge. The illusions became more menacing as well, this time outright showing a wolf running at humans and leaping at them, jaws wide, before vanishing just before the attack along with other vicious illusions like it.

No one saw the culprit, until one day, months after the pranks begun, she stood in the center of town.

Waiting.

Exhausted from months of lack of sleep and trying to herd spooked sheep, the humans left their houses later than usual that morning, before each of them gathered around the kalon they once knew.

But she was different now. Her fur was no longer pure white, black now crawled over her fur, infecting it like a plague, slowly creeping up her neck and down her spine trying to corrupt what was left of her white fur. The darkened fur now reflected her new self as well, soulless and without mercy, longer now and tangled without any caring for anymore. Her shine no longer brightly sparkled, but was dulled as if someone had stomped out a burning ember. Even her mane was slowly becoming tinged with this darkness that haunted her now.

Her eyes, once so kind and full of life, wanting nothing more than to have as much fun as the day was bright and long, now were hardened in a way that is hard to describe, full of hatred and spite for the humans that ended her. It was pure spite that brought her back, that allowed her to continue without her spirit, her soul. Her powers were dulled with the loss of her star ball, but with the bitterness that she held, she regained twisted versions of what she could do before.

She stood in the center of the town as the humans gathered, whispering among themselves, some angry, some afraid. The nine-tailed kalon wore her mask, though even it had changed too. It was cracked, broken, pieces of itself falling away with every slight shift, fading into dust before the fragments had the chance to hit the ground. An ear was broken off, and part of the face. It was a terrifying sight to behold, this corrupted, soulless kalon who was putting sewing needles in their beds before they laid down for the night, now wearing a broken mask.

No human dared to speak. For long, stretching moments the humans and the kalon stood in silence. Finally, it was the nine-tailed kalon that broke the icy quiet, growling at those who stood before her. Flames sprung from her paws, setting the ground she was stood upon ablaze with blue, ghostly fire that licked at her fur.

"A curse upon this land and all who dwell in it, that your crops wither without produce, that your animals grow famished and weak. For as long as I am broken, this land shall be poisoned! Nothing but despair and poverty for any who dare try to stake claim here!" she spat. Her voice seemed to echo, ringing from the hills in fury, as loud as her cries of pain had been. The pain that held her now was different. Pain of betrayal, pain of hatred and want to destroy. Pain of isolation, feeling empty, like a husk, without her soul.

Her nine tails lashed, twisting and flicking angrily, as the flames around her paws grew higher and more intense until it threatened to consume her, "Bloodlines will die here, family trees will find the end of their branches, nothing shall survive this land for as long as my star ball's shards are buried in the ground, the land shall dry and be made infertile!"

The humans listened in stunned horror, watching as this monstrous kalon, a ghost of her former self fueled by pain and anger, rendered the land barren. When she was finished speaking, the blue flames engulfed her form before almost being sucked into the earth itself. From where the fire disappeared, a ripple of blue flame burst forth again and radiated outward until it had travelled the span of the village and its fields. The grass seemed to dull in color, the tilled dirt in the fields turning more gray. The curse was laid, the nutrients within the land were drained.

Furious, the humans charged her, but she vanished before their eyes, only scorched grass left where she had stood.

Despite the curse, the humans stayed in their village, trying to tend the land. Humans are stubborn things, always trying to prove that they can do what they are told they can't. Us kalons however, we fled. This new, strange nine-tailed kalon was not the one we had loved, was not the one we had followed, was not the one we raised our kits beside. She was twisted, dark and strange now. She wasn't the fun loving leader we knew. And her hatred knew no bounds, though the curse was meant for the humans, it affected us as well. Berries rotted while still on the stem, fruit-bearing trees withered and decayed on the spot, fish tasted like poison and made any who ate them sick, insects were few in number and not enough to sustain us. The land was unfit for us to live there any longer. Within the week the curse was laid, there were no more kalons, save her, that lived in that valley.

Years went by, cruel tricks being played on any and every human, no matter the age. She was vindictive, it didn't matter if generations went by and the humans were no longer the same ones that had hurt her. They were still humans. And she had grown to hate all of them.

That much hate... It festers in the heart like a parasite, growing and feeding off spite until it takes over your very mind. Until all you can think about is revenge and making whoever hurt you then hurt in turn as well.

The lands were unlivable. No matter what the humans tried, their crops never grew, their livestock fell into poor health and dropped like flies, and soon the humans themselves fell ill as well. They found ways though, for a while at least. Hunted the birds that hadn't been there long enough to be tainted, travelled elsewhere to bring back as much grains and other food as they could. They did everything in their power to remain in that land. In the end they grew weak, weary, and soon the still able-bodied of them gave up their hopes of reclaiming the land.

No one sets foot nor paw in that valley even now, afraid of the curse that still lays upon the land, stunting the growth of any and all life. The nine-tailed kalon lives still, if you can even call it living. It's less than a half-life. Soulless, spiritless, loveless. Full of hatred and spite, full of pain, reliving over and over the moment when her star ball was shattered before her eyes. She searches the land there desperately, looking for every last shard of her star ball in vain.

Her one and only hope, the last remnant of her soul she has left, collecting the shards scattered in the valley, buried within the earth, so that she might become whole once more. So that she might reclaim what was hers. To have her full powers back. To have her life back. But the star ball fractured into countless pieces. It's been a thousand years and that dreadful spirit still guards the valley, even against the kalons she used to love. So long she's existed alone in that valley, scouring the land for shards, cursing whoever dare cross her with her illusions and fire.

Her name is long since forgotten to the ages, no kalon or human alive remembers what she was once called. The only name we have for her now is 'Higeki', a name befitting her tragic state. A name that means 'tragedy' itself.

Had she apologized...perhaps her fate would have been different...Perhaps she would still be whole..."

The old, wrinkled kalon looked out over the crowd of kits that had gathered over the course of her story, all staring up at her wide-eyed at the magical, terrifying story spun before them. One little kit, her fur a pale cream and her shine a bright caramel, looked out towards the hills that the sun touched every evening before it set. Did such a poor kalon such as that truly exist? The kit thought it must be a lonely existence, having chased away anyone that could have helped her find her star ball's pieces... A thousand years, alone and left to stew in bitterness.

Any kalon who lived in such a state truly deserved the name Tragedy.

by the wibbler

List of edits:

-9 tails
-Custom tail shine
-Hair edits that go beyond jawline
-Levitates
-Has magical abilities
-Longer fur
-Custom ears

[Evils]

Mark! c:

[❌ DYNAMIGHT ❌]

small ... mark??

[Rabbit]

"Dad, where am I? It's dark, and... I'm scared."

--

"Dad?"

[lex]

tentative mark w the name topplegeist

[ArizonaT3a]

Don't steal ideas please but marking!


- sick child/family
- most of their family died out besides their mother
- because of the sickness it mutated them and caused others to become hateful towards them
- it grew up to only love it's mother while everyone hated it
- his mother ended up passing and that caused him to pass away from all the grief
- acts like a child and doesn't know that it's dead
- is scared of others and tries to stay away from them
- thinks that its just magical even though it's actually just dead that's why it can fly
- cries a lot

[Bathtub Barracuda]

Mark!

[ZC.]

[Glowless]
[Medium-length Hair - Ram Horns - Wings - Four Tails - Custom tongue - Custom Shine - Transparency (?) - Glow]

story is a wip,, going with typical ghost hunter story where they vastly misinterpret what the ghost is trying to say

"Can you tell us if you're a boy or a girl?"
"Do we have to?"

dropping probably

[beeb]

wip and res!

the story of sadie:
you hear light dripping from the bathroom faucet.
it dripped to the beat of "sa-die." then it'd stop.
only to play the rhythm once again.
and repeat.
sadie, your girlfriend, had died in a car crash thirteen months ago.
it was late at night. it was probably your tired brain messing with you.
or was it.
a few hours passed.
the beating of the water had gradually gotten faster and louder, you now realized.
you tried to drown the sound out by playing some calming music.
the lights flickered.
the power went out.
all the lights shut off.
and the computer turned off.
you couldn't help but feel darkness creeping up on you, feeling a shiver go down your spine.
you got out of your chair and went to go lay down, lightly closing your eyes.
suddenly,
the faucet was fully turned on.
you heard footsteps.
full of shock and scared, you hesitated, but quickly went to the bathroom.
the bathroom window was halfway open.
black, inky paw prints stained the wall.
written on the mirror in the same black ink was

terrified, you scrambled to shut the window and run to bed.
you heard hissing and the sound of running footsteps into the forest as you fell asleep.
the next morning, black ink splattered across your lawn.
"sadie" written on the side of your house.

notes:
hopeless romantic
fierce
unintentionally frightening
was once a beautiful young lady
slime/ink drips from paws
ink disappears within 5 minutes of placement
can only be seen by those who know her story
can only be heard by whom she is speaking to
always upset about her old lover