[Novva]

Name: WIP


Gender: Female

L o o k - T h r o u g h - M y - E y e s

Seeing the world through someone else's eyes seems like something out of a book, though I think I could have fun explaining myself, and how I see the world. I sometimes have trouble with this kind of thing, seeing that I have a, umm, interesting outlook on things...you might even say, I have never settled on a decision of how I view everything.

Well to start I think I should explain one way I often see the world I live in. I think it is marvelous, the life I own. How lucky I am to have everything I have, and how lucky I am to be able to do everything I do. I able to spend time with the ones I love, like my siblings and my parents. The world is beautiful, its full of imagination creativity and the most amazing things I could ever think of. And I love everything about it. I love to explore to see new things, and I love to imagine to know that a world all my own is at my fingertips. Even the time I spend alone, even the times of sadness I feel lucky to have. Life is a beautiful thing and everything that comes with it seems wonderful. Explaining this is harder than I thought it would be, have you just ever felt so free and alive? That’s one way I see the world, one way I love to see the world.

I have other out looks on things as well, ones less, admired by others around me. Ones that are even yet harder to explain. I tend to switch views, all the time. Whether or not I want it to it isn't something I am able to control, and that is the reason I have trouble making friends sometimes. I can see this world as a dark place. One littered with demons and hate. One that is closed off and worthless to me. One where things loose their lives, when death is our only companion. A world that to me is horrid, terrifying. How could I smile in a place so brutal, filled to the brim with fear, pain, sadness, and death. Its when I am here, in this mind thats when I can't seem to see through the darkness, when I can't find the light and I despise everything. I can become harsh, blunt and rude, I can't seem to care about anyone or anything other than myself. Anger boils within me and I try stay away from everyone, or maybe they stay away from me. Because I can't quite understand it myself, so how could I explain it to you properly.

I also tend to see the world as many other beans might, just as a world, just as a place to be, the place I live. It’s where I spend my time, where I grew up , where I will continue to do so. It’s the place where I have fun. The place where can be sad. How could I hate the world, how could I love it so? I walk though this world like a ghost sometimes, separating myself from everyone, in these moments where I spend a lot of my time. I have my white I have my black, though I usually rest in the middle, I am usually in the gray.

Seeing the world through my eyes may seem odd, I have my ups and downs, though I wouldn't be me without them. I hope I was able to explain myself. I hope you can understand a little more about me now! I guess I am not too sure what else I could try to explain. See the world through my eyes, and see it in a never-ending array of different prospective. See the world through my eyes, see my world.

Extra 1: Art
This is the art at the top, it shows her when she is joyful, her lighter side. By me

Extra 2: Art
This is the art at the bottom that shows her when she is angry, her darker side. By me

[Eternal.]

[.chamomile.]

✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇

ｈｉ ｔｈｅｒｅ ． ．

↫ ηαмє ↬ Quentin, but he goes by Quinn
↫ gєη∂єя ↬ Male

✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇✵✵✵❇

✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰

✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰✣✣✣✰

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ｉｔ'ｓ ｍｙ ｗｏｒｌｄ

From the point of view of an older Quentin

I remember that day, it was cold. I don't like the cold much, I prefer the heat, the humidity. It was in February, when the world was still frozen and my orange mittens still fit me. I was with my siblings, I love my siblings. They mean a lot to me, even though we fight sometimes.
We were out in the forest, away from home. Mother had sent us out for flowers. I didn't know what she was looking for, who could find flowers in the winter? I think that she just wanted us out of the house. We had been causing a bit of trouble that day. I remember my scarf wrapped around my neck, my blue knit hat, and my orange mittens. My paws were crunching on the frosted ground. I was gazing around, taking in the beautiful sights. The trees and bushes were covered in a thin layer of ice. Everything felt so magical.
In front of my, one of my siblings stopped. "Look Quentin, look at that."
I paused in my reverie. I had been so busy concentrating all around me that I had forgotten about my siblings. It wasn't that I didn't like them, I just forgot. Sometimes it's good to forget things, especially if you've pranked each of your siblings recently. There upon a rather large bush, or maybe it was a small tree, bloomed a flower.
It was white and pure, and as small as can be. It looked like it was barely surviving the last throes of winter. Moat curious, I remember thinking to myself, a flower in the winter? Perhaps Mother isn't out of her mind. I took a step closer. I wondered how it had avoided being frozen. There was no ice on it, not even frost. It's petals were soft, and it smelled nice, like honey. Maybe it was magic that this flower had survived.
Anyways, it didn't hold my attention for long. In fact, it didn't hold anyone's attention for long and we all moved on. Of course, we never did find any flowers. Mother had sent us out on a wild goose chase to get us out of the house. We were all walking back home after an hour or so of searching, when I saw a most curious thing again. The flower wasn't there. I was the same bush, I know it. The bush had been the only one at the entrance to the woods. My heart skipped a beat, and a slight panic filled me. Where had the flower gone? Had I imagined it all?
But I had felt the petals, smelt the nectar. It had to have been there. There was no such thing as magic, and I certainly hadn't been hallucinating (unless one of my siblings put something in my food). I blinked my eyes and then the flower was there again.
Now I was confused, something or someone was messing with me, that much was clear. Not wanting to worry myself more, I took the branch of the bush with the flower on it with me. When I came home, I quickly grabbed an old mason jar and filled it with water; placing the branch in it. Every day since I have kept a watchful eye on that flower. It's been about a year, and surprisingly it hasn't died. It's been the same way since I first saw it; vibrant, healthy, soft.
I wonder, does magic exist? Or is that flower simply the hope of the world?

ａｒｔ



Art by my of Quentin in the snow looking at his white flower for the first time <3

ｈｏｂｂｉｅｓ

↫ pranking ↬ Quentin loved to play pranks on his siblings, though not so much on his parents (as he learned that the hard way). Some of his pranks are classics: mixing up cereal, whoopee cushions, feathers and shaving cream. Sometimes his other siblings help him out, but that doesn't keep Quinn from pranking his 'ally'. As he says, "All is fair in pranks and siblings". Quinn once managed to switch his sisters nail polish colors, he dyed his brothers white clothes hot pink, and filled all of his siblings shoes with mashed potatoes. He's a ruthless, adorable, pranking machine.

↫ bottle cap charms ↬ Quentin is a little artsy, something he picked up from an older sister of his. His favorite thing to do is make bottle cap charms for his family, a sort of retribution for his pranks. What he does is takes old or used bottle caps and fills them with resin. While the resin is still 'wet' he puts things in it. For his sisters; he puts in glitter, flowers, pieces of photos and other girly things. For his brothers; Quinn puts in tiny toy cars, dead insects like bees, minerals, and other manly things. Quinn usually makes them as pins, but sometimes his sisters and brothers have worn them as necklaces or bracelets, or carried them around for good luck. Once, they all made a collage of various charms for fun. It's like a painting, and it hangs in Quinn's room.

↫ finger painting ↬ Like all young beans, Quentin loves finger painting. He has a huge easel with huge paper sitting on it in the family arts and craft room. He has lots of little honey and mason jars full of paint in them. Quentin usually produces abstract work, but the occasional tree or butterfly appears on his paper. He refuses to use brushes, even when threatened by the loss of his easel by his mother. His reasoning is that finger painting is much more fun, and messy is fun. He doesn't get it on the walls, the floor, or himself; so what is wrong with his finger painting? Quinn either gives away or keeps most of his work. The ones that turn out into brown goop are usually thrown away, or used for pranking purposes.

[.Sweet-Paradise.]

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
Username .Sweet-Paradise.
Name Keahi Coraline -Last name-
Nicknames Keke, Coral, Spunky
Gender Female
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The stories featured in this form are by me
and are copyright to me. Do not steal them.

ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs... I smirk with excitement, crawling slowly toward to my older sibling. Puffle flicked his tail at me and walked up to the eldest of us. "Can you tell me a story? One about evil villains and amazing superheroes!" He says, eyes lighting up with excitement. He gives me a small look before sitting down and allowing her to begin the story. "Alright. This one is about how the Super Amazing Bat-Man saves the world!" I noticed a long time ago that all the stories about heroes had this bat dude in them. Carefully I slide, belly pressed to the cold floor of our cave home, toward them. I notice her ear twitch and climb up the cave wall, hanging on to a stalactite, a feat. Puffle was known for. I could see the pride in his eyes as our oldest sister turned back to him. "I thought Coral was up to her old tricks again! Do you want to hear about one time I worked with her to prank dad? It was so funny!" Puffle nodded excitedly. Sadly, the story was never told. I for one didn't want to be embarrassed and never be able to face my little sibling ever again. I had swung around and dropped. Crushing my sister underneath me I let out a war cry. "Seriously?" A muffled voice was heard under my voice. "Well duh!" I make a face as if it was obvious. Getting off and helping her up, I smirk slightly. "Tag you're it!" And I dash out of the cave, blinded at first by the sudden bright light in my face. My enraged sister and a giggling Puffle were after me. Another day with my favorite siblings.

ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ
ＷＥＬＬ．．． ＳＨＥ'Ｓ ＳＰＵＮＫＹ Coral is known as Keke to most but responds mostly and quicker to Coral. Coral has earned the title spunk because she's nothing but. A few friends here and there call her Spunky, mostly at school and at her hangouts.







ωʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ
ＡＢＯＵＴ ＴＨＡＴ ＰＲＡＮＫ．．． Text

[Pure Dragon]

Gender: Male, thank you very much.
Sorry for having so much text Berk, I tried to cut it down best I could, but didn't want to take out anything that gave insight to his personality and such. Story is about 750 words, I think. x'3

Look through my eyes:
"Before you call me lazy, irritable and antisocial, let me
set you straight. I'm lazy, irritable, antisocial and I hate you." My
teacher looked at me, shocked, and I added to the insult by swishing
my hair back over my eyes. Well, it'd be over my eyes if it was longer,
but the teacher got the message. I gave her a bored, uncaring look,
wondering if I'd finally push her over the edge today. I hated people
who got all up in my face, always in my personal space and trying to
tell me how to live my life. They sure have turned me into prick,
although to be honest I didn't resist the change much. It keeps people
off my back, most off the time, and that's the way I like it. The teacher
was still staring at me, so I decided if she wouldn't back down then I'd
back out. "Toodles," I said casually, and headed straight for the door.
I've been old enough to drop out of school for a while, so I suppose
it's about time I did anyways. As I pushed out the front door of the
school, I took a deep breath and smiled. Oh, sweet freedom! I could
taste it in the wind. There was always the matter of when I got home,
but I'd deal with that when it was time to be dealt with.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" My father demanded. "You heard me," I said,
seeing a very one-sided argument coming up. I decided to bypass
that completely by making a run for it. The fury was building in
father's eyes and I dashed towards the entrance, flicking his nose
with my tail as I scurried out of the cave. There was a small,
barely noticeable path that turned and went back up around the
rocks, and I bounded up it. Gravel tumbled back down to the
cave and I slipped into a gap between the rocks, pausing to
catch my breath. Even if father chased me, he wouldn't find
me now. He'd probably go down into the valley before even thinking
to check farther up in the mountain, and he'd never find this place.
Light filtered down from above and I followed the closed in path down
to the trickle of a stream. The rocks were large, and steep and far
apart from each other at places, but I'd been here many times before
and knew the way. I walked down the pathway, light and shadow crossing
over me as I passed under gaps in the rock above, until I arrived at a
cavern.This was my home away from home. Paper, electronics, and models
littered the floor and little piles of stone that acted as furniture. I know
what I want to do - I want to make a video game franchise. I've spent
years thinking up story lines, attacks, music - everything. All the
concept work is here, made on my soundboards or carefully sculpted,
written, or otherwise preserved outside of my memory. Maybe others
didn't understand it, thought it was a waste of time, thought I was
wasting my life. But I know the risks. Nobody else understands the way
I think. They think life is being successful, and that being successful
will make you happy. I think they've got it backwards though. Life is
being happy, following your dreams - and doing that will make you
successful. All anyone ever did to me was try to make me conform to
"normal" and "safe". Always telling me what, when, where, why to do
things. Never off my back. Stupid, demanding, ignorant, pushy -

I shook my head, trying to clear those thoughts, those thoughts that
cropped up every time that came here. I just closed my eyes and breathed
in the scent of the rocks and water and my tools. Listened to the quiet.
My chest warmed up and I smiled. Here I could leave my prick self
guarding the entrance and just be my real self. I padded over to the main
desk and carefully turned a little figurine with my claw. The new coat
of paint shimmered softly, the metallic color producing just the effect
I'd hoped for. The paint was mostly dry, and by tomorrow morning I could
do the next coat. Turning slightly, I nudged a sunbathing lizard off of
the papers I'd written yesterday and straightened them out. Then I looked
around. I realized I was going to have to make a bed if I wanted to sleep
here tonight - and I most certainly did. So that's what I set off to do.

Extra #1 - My Family Relationships
Relations at this point are how Pure imagines them, since she won't know the personalities of the other beans until after they are judged. If she wins though, they will be changed to fit with the personalities given to the other beans when they are won.

Father
I have a really tense relationship with Father. I know he just wants "the best" for me, but his "best" is stupid and boring, and he's always trying to shove it onto me. He thinks following my dreams is going to land me a horrible adulthood, so he won't let me do my own thing. Any time I try to make him understand my point of view, there's just a long one-sided argument that he turns in circles upon circles.

Mother
Ma always goes easy on me, which is good, because if she didn't I'd go absolutely crazy. Or maybe run away with Puffle, who I'm sure would just love the adventure. I think Ma feels a bit sorry for the way everyone tries to tell me how to live, or maybe she feels sorry for the way I've turned out. I am sorta a jerk, I'll admit, and no mother wants that. But whatever the reason, Ma just lets me do whatever and will try to avoid taking Father's side most of the time. We don't really talk much, but I don't think there's a need to, she just sort of understands, and I like the quiet better.

Puffle
Oh, man, Puffle. What to say? I want to like him, I really do, but he's just so... so crazy! He barely seems to notice that I'm usually stressed out and just carries on with his bouncy, zippy, annoying self! I just don't have the energy or patience to handle him and all he wants to do is play or talk or.... ugh! But when he's in a cuddly mood it's okay, if I go along with it then that will keep father off my back for a while because he doesn't want to involve little Puffle. And, if you swear not to tell anyone, I honestly do like the company. The little kid's obliviousness to my issues actually comes in handy when I just need a little ball of fluff to squeeze. He doesn't even notice if my eyes get watery... I mean, which would never happen, but hypothetically... like if I was stressed out enough... but really nothing bothers me that much... okay, fine! You got me. But tell anyone and I'll rip your fur out. Or use my secret weapon... Puffle static! I swear I'll sic this kid on you.

My other siblings
I don't think any of my siblings really understand me that much...but as long as they don't bother me about it and pretend I don't exist, it's good enough for me. I hate having so many people around, so I'm usually out of the house, and therefore I don't have a very good relationship with any of them. If I had to pick a favorite (or should I say, least disliked) it would be either my little brother Puffle or my oldest sibling. Puffle's sorta explained above, and for my oldest sibling, they usually cut me some slack. I guess they know what growing up and trying to find your own way is like... they don't take my side, but they don't take father's side either, so it's cool I guess.

Extra #2
Hey...wait, what?! I did NOT tell Pure she could draw me at such an embarrassing moment. And I sooo did not fall asleep at my desk last night. Why do you think I made a bed, idiot?

[oMallieKat]

nevermind... sorry for taking up space...

[sheepsorrel]

Name:
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Look through my eyes: (art or story)
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res

[winter wonderland.]

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[olive oil]

Dropping out

[Cinnamon Vanilla]

Name:
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