[Cupid]

name;; Amontillado
Monti gets his name from the wine brand, Amontillado. His parents were terrible alcoholics.
nickname;; Monti
gender;; male
age;; 15
Monti's past-
When Amontillado was merely a bean in his mother’s womb his life was already starting off tragic. His mother drank alcohol while expecting him. Thus Monti was born with fetal alcohol syndrome and other minor irregularities. The young Monti was born into a family of appalling dysfunction. Due to his disease he was born an alcoholic. His father left and his mother died when he was only 2 years of age. Monti was adopted by a theatre owner who was distinctive for showing horror films. Almost every night Monti sat in the front row seats of the running horror films. This made Monti love terrifying and eerie tales. His alcoholism only got worse with time. Monti’s mind was filled with darkness and fright. He began writing short tales and poems of terror at the age of 13. He began to long for friendship and companionship. Everyone found him so weird and dissimilar that they wanted nothing to do with Monti. He wrote love poems to the girls he fancied. They found Monti dark and dreadful. Monti is now truly disheartened and distressed.

[kittu]

I've lost connection with this bean ;3;" -snugs Berk-
I'd also like to see some others trying out win, and I can already see how much time they'll put into their forms <3
Good luck to all, and if you need help judging feel free to shoot me a PM, Have a good day!

┠╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍┫
You walked through the trees, silent, and careful not to make a sound. You'd heard the
tales of the zombie roaming these woods, and had been foolish enough to listen to your friends
when they dared you to enter them and find the un-dead whatever it was, and bring back some
sort of prize to proveyou had gone. You stopped, suddenly aware of something watching, its eyes burning into
your back, and you shivered, whipping around and holding out a sharpened stick. Nothing,
you saw nothing, but you didn't forget the feeling of the eyes, or the rustling that you had heard
in the very start of your journey. You sighed, starting to turn. "Hello."
gasping, you whipped around, then began slipping backwards, the zombie! It was in front of you,
it was going to eat you! Instead of chasing though, it stopped, sat, and tilted its head, his ears flicking.
"You've come a long way from the village, I've watched you." your eyes didn't release
the fear that hung in them, and the... wait. Stopping, you looked closer. This was a bean! He was like
the beans you'd seen at home, your beans, Amber and Aiden, and Dawn and Tai. "Don't be
frightened, I just... want company you know." his eyes flashed with sadness, and you pitied him.
Stepping closer, you patted his back softly, staring into his eyes, they seemed filled with never
ending sadness. You shook your head and looked closer. "Come with me." You pleaded, watching him stare at you
"I'll keep you company." You stared, holding your breathe, then he nodded, he simply nodded and stood up.
You grinned, this was the start of an adventure, and you knew it'd never be forgotten.
┠╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍┫

┠╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍┫

┠╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍┫

[Lady.Nixon]

'He told me I should take it in,
Listen to every word he's speaking,
The wires getting older I can hear the way they're creaking,
As they're holding him,
Well, I could see it in his jaw,
That all he ever wanted was a job,
He tells me to be, raw,
Admits to every little flaw,
That never let him sit upon the top,
Won't tell me to stop,
Thinks that I should be a little cautious.
Well, I can tell the wires pulled'

~ Who are you? ~

::n a m e::
Jester

::n a m e . m e a n i n g::
Jester, a boy's name, might have been an occupational name
for a jester. A jester was a person who was employed to tell jokes by
the European monarch. It's also a German name 'Gastharo' composed of
'gast' which means warrior and 'heri' meaning army.

::n i c k n a m e::
Jes

::g e n d e r::
Male

::o r i e n t a t i o n::
Straight

::s i z e::
About the size of a golden retriever.



~ Your age... ~

::b i r t h d a y::
Friday, October 17, 1998

::b i r t h . p l a c e::
Norwich, England

::a g e::
Fifteen

::z o d i a c::
♎ Libra ♎



~ It's more of a personal problem... ~

::r o l e::
Outsider

::s h o r t . p e r s o n a l i t y::
Paranoid, Brilliant, Friendly

::p e r s o n a l i t y::


::n o t a b l e . t r a i t s / q u i r k s::


::l i k e s - d i s l i k e s::


::t h e m e . s o n g::
Wires by The Neighbourhood (warning, minor cussing...)

::h o b b i e s::


::t a l e n t::


::d i s o r d e r::



~ All that distresses and eats away... ~

::d i s t r e s s::



~ You are amazing. In your own way. ~

::a r t::
By Me

[FoxerOwl]

Reserved with the possible name of Sinope

personality (please don't steal <3)

He is pretty introverted and timid, but when provoked he is a complete monster. (more to be added)

history (please don't steal <3)

He was born to awaiting parents, eager to see him, but when they did they were horrified and disgusted. They kicked him out as a young child. He had to learn to survive on his own and... WIP



"Hello, my name is Sinope. Please do not come in, it's quite the... mess in here."

╔═════════════════════╗

S i n o p e. . . S i n o p e . . .

RUN.
╚═════════════════════╝

[finoodle]

Reserved with zombiena

[Kaishine]

Hi my name is Daryl

Daryl Dixon is his full name, It is the name of one of the characters from the walking dead. Personally my favorite.

habits:

I have no habits

you do, you pull on your Hurt ear. His cut ear, he pulls on it when he gets nervous. Mostly around new beans, he is shy when it come to that.
He also is almost always rubbing his eyes.

I have many good friends. Hehe

Personality: (click)

What makes him distressed?
Well He hates the sounds of hurting beans, even if it is mental. Like one being heart broken, or being bullied. He can feel it, like inside of you. So if you are ever in any kind of pain, just remember Daryl will be there with you

His nightmare:
He has been having this dream since he was just a little one, It keeps happening. So he hates going to sleep, scared that it will happen again. He dreams it about ever other night. Tell them.

well I was a hunter in the dream, it was easy for me to take one down. I had a bow and arrow set, I was always losing my arrows. Then a zombie walked up to be a bit me, it hurt. But I could feel the change, It was painful . But then I wake up.

.

What's up with his eyes?:
Well because of his nightmare, he almost never sleeps.
So they are blood shot from lack of sleep, he is always rubbing them.
So you can normally catch him drinking a cup of tea or coffee

His birthday.

Well I was born about ten years ago.

His markings, and how he got them:
Daryl was born with his markings, He has always had the markings. He has also loved them, he loves to look at his markings and make sure they are still there, scared they will run away or something.
By Ruki Ki

Likes:
He loves shooting bow and arrow,
He loves having caring friends to go to,
he loves kids.

Theme song:
Survivor - Eye Of The Tiger

his one nickname:
Zombie scum.
he hates it,
it makes him mighty mad if you call him by it.

by peace&cobly

[ravemn]

THANATOS

Name;

Thanatos

Greek myth name of a god of death, meaning "death."

Gender;

Male of course!

Age;

Thanatos is 15 years old.

Theme Song;

Zombie; The Cranberries

Quirks;
-Popping bubble wrap.
-Eating burned food.
-Eating Macaroni and cheese with Ketchup.
-Eating to much fried food.

Likes and dislikes;

Likes:
Friends
Being Safe
Food
Soda pop

Dislikes:
ZOMBIES
His eyes
Being made fun of
Having no friends
Scary things

What makes Thanatos distressed you ask?

Thanatos is what you would call someone who had Kinemortophobia. Kinemortophobia is the phobia of being afraid of zombies. Despite his design he is terrified of dead things coming back to life to eat flesh and basically anything on you. Other beans have always teased him about it. He hates the fact of scared of fictional things. His fear started when his markings started to develop into his fur. Once the red and black markings showed up he was terrified. But not so bad as once his eyes changed on him. Thanatos's eyes where once a gorgeous shade of midnight blue. But due to a unknown disease his eyes turned a milky white. The whites of his eyes where now bloodshot and the worst part about it it made his vision blurry. The Disease must of affected his fur as well. It started falling out and it got patchy so he had to shave it off. The sight of his own appearance haunts him. He wishes that he wouldn't of been born with such a rare disease. Sadly he is one of the only JellyBean dragons to have the disease. The doctors couldn't place their fingers on what would of caused him to of been born with it. But as the first bean being diagnosed with this disease he got to name it. He named it After himself; Thanatos syndrome. Meaning the dead syndrome. He hopes no other bean is cursed with the disease he has.

Art

[Kiesen]

With some long thought, I decided I will enter for him!

I'll think of a better name but for now I'll get with Scourge

Reserved!

[BlueRocketMouse]

ᴘᴇs·ᴛɪ·ʟᴇɴᴄᴇ
[ᴘᴇs-ᴛʟ-ᴜʜɴs]
ɴᴏᴜɴ
---
1. ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴏʀ ᴠɪʀᴜʟᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴘɪᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ᴅɪsᴇᴀsᴇ.
2. ʙᴜʙᴏɴɪᴄ ᴘʟᴀɢᴜᴇ.
3. sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴍғᴜʟ,
ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴠɪʟ.

╞═════════════════════════════════════( ☣ )═════════════════════════════════════╡

....

Ї'll lёavє уоця нєaят pоцпdїпg
ёvєи щнєп мїпє $тоp$ Ьєaтїпg


name: pestilence
gender: male
age: seventeen years
theme song: xxx

....╞══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╡

Mї₴циdєя$тооd?
Йaн, Ї'м pґётту мцcн шнaт уоц єжpєcт

Lɪᴋᴇs

*Zombies
*Feeling in control
*Rumors
*Exploiting others
*Fear
*Nighttime
*Lying

----

Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs

*Being undermined
*Sympathy towards himself
*The wealthy
*Losing his power over others
*Light

Bʀɪᴇғ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ:
It would not be inaccurate to say Pestilence has adopted two personalities.
He sees his true self as weak and inferior to the mask he often wears,
unfortunately for everyone else as that just so happens to be his more
bearable side. Sure, Pestilence tends to be a bit snarky, devious, and
manipulative of others, but at least he also takes on a more gentlemanlike
stance. It does, however, come with an air of spite, as Pestilence’s main
reason for acting in that manner is to silently mock the aristocratic family
that rejected him.

Pestilence’s second side, on the other hand, is much less refined in his
actions. He was not born with this personality but rather created it as a
disguise for him to hide behind, so one could arguably call it a façade of
sorts. Nonetheless, years of practice have allowed Pestilence to perfect it,
and the thought that it might not be genuine doesn’t seem so comforting
when you’re confronted with the monster face to face. Wild and unruly, his
primary goal is to extort fear from all around him, establishing himself as
adominate force not to be reckoned with. Pestilence truly thrives off this
side of him, for he loves the feeling of power that comes with it. At times,
he might even become so absorbed in it that it completely takes him over
for a minute or two. This is when Pestilence truly becomes an animal,
lashing out at everything around him. For all his skill at summoning the
beast, he lacks the ability to restrain it.

Qᴜɪʀᴋs

*Pestilence has a tendency to gnaw on
random objects whenever he's thinking
about something. Pretty much anything
nearby is free game, be it an old pencil,
a twig, or even his own paw if nothing
else catches his fancy.

*Despite Pestilence being a rather messy
eater, he's actually quite particular about
the food he'll eat. Pestilence prefers soft,
mushy foods such as oatmeal or mashed
potatoes. For extra fun, he adds a bit of
red food coloring and sits back to enjoy
the madness that ensues when other
beans think he's eating ground meat.

*Pestilence doesn't use his fire very
often. It's a lukewarm red at best, but
more commonly results in mostly smoke
with only a hint of actual fire.

.A Cʟᴇᴀɴ Bɪʟʟ ᴏғ Hᴇᴀʟᴛʜ:

Unfortunately for him, Pestilence was truly born on the short end of the genetic stick. Blind in both eyes and half deaf, Pestilence relies mainly on smell, touch, and the hearing in his left ear. His method of inspecting new beans often leaves them feeling uncomfortable, as he will slowly circle around to keep them on the side with his good ear, taking in their scent and touching them lightly with the fur on his tail tip, making the whole scene reminiscent of a predator carefully calculating its prey. Adding to his wild appearance is a condition that makes Pestilence's fur grow in irregular patches. It might be long and thick in one section of his back, but thin and bristly everywhere else. Then, before it has a chance to catch up, it will fall out in clumps.

But despite his rabid, predatory looks, Pestilence likely wouldn't hold his own in a fight against another bean very well. His savage instincts leave little room for fear, but his frail, emaciated body doesn't have the raw strength to back it up (though I'd nonetheless advise against ending up on the wrong side of his teeth or claws; he may not be carrying a real zombie virus, but you still don't know where they've been). Pestilence also tends to get injured more easily than most, and his wounds take longer to heal. He doesn't usually have to worry about them becoming infected though. In a strange twist of irony, Pestilence's one genetic virtue seems to be his spectacular immune system. He rarely ever gets sick.

....╞══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╡

Єvєи їf тнёу'ґё циdєad
ёvєяуопє $тaґтёd оцт alїvє




voice: a raspy, phlegm filled voice that comes from the back of the throat
typing style: #D74343


Hehehe...

Bᴀᴅ Bᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢs:

Alive?





I wouldn't know what it's like to be alive.




I died the day I was born.

How the dark air blew that summer night. It whistled sharply through the tiniest crack in the wall, and was so humid it felt like hot breath against uncovered skin. Though the full moon's radiance lit the tiny village, black clouds had it surrounded. They greedily licked the fringes of its pure light, and all who heard the faint rumble of their hunger cowered in their dwellings like cornered rabbits. Yet, this ominous atmosphere was lost inside the opulent chateau just a stone's toss away. Unlike the neighboring peasantry, its inhabitants had no need to fear the oncoming storm inside their carefully controlled environment. Indeed, there was no room for mere thoughts on the weather inside the minds of the aristocratic family, not when such a momentous event was taking place.

On a soft, satin pillow lay a delighted mother-to-be, while her proud mate and humans stood to the side. Leaning against her warm belly was a pearly silver egg; across the thin shell was a fine crack. Occasionally, the egg would move just a smidge, and each time it did sent a buzz of soft chatter through the crowd. Little by little, the crack grew gradually larger and each minute movement lasted slightly longer than the last. Suddenly, a collective silence took hold of the house, as children were told to shush and adults leaned a hair's breadth forward. It jerked quickly now, with fragments of shell falling to the pillow, until finally the entire egg split and a tiny, off-white baby took his first breath in the world. A soft wave of applause and congratulatory comments erupted before the throng was ushered away by a nurse, insisting they leave the new family some quiet time alone.

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

Excitement over the new baby evaporated all too quickly. Gleeful chatter soon turned to quiet murmurs once his markings began to appear. Sickly greens, blood reds, and coal-black bones covered the lovely white fur. Out of respect, nothing was said in the presence of his parents, but nonetheless, an air of distaste was always present around the young bean. Suspicions grew and superstition took hold as a wave of bad luck plagued the family in the following years. A fire destroyed part of their home. One of their largest investments failed. A family member fell gravely ill. And at the center of it all was the sad scapegoat, a bean barely old enough to comprehend hate, but had regardless been breathing in its crimson fumes for most of his life.

Circumstances had not grown better by his teen years, but rather progressively worse. With the protection of childhood now gone, little prevented him from being openly berated. His parents had since grown distant from him, and besides, they had a new child to care for now. He may have been born in a house of wealth, but he was treated like the lowest commoner. And one day, a particularly mouthy woman approached him in the courtyard, unable to resist venting the anger of losing her precious dog on him. "You're a plague to this family!" She cried. "A vile pestilence! Nothing but a pestilence!"

It is not at all healthy for a baby to be exposed to hatred for a long period of time. It certainly is not for to one mature into a young adult in it. Such feelings fester in their developing brains, eventually growing out of control. Something finally snapped inside our poor protagonist that day. All those years of hate came bursting forth as his eyes grew wild and his lips curled into a snarl. The woman fled screaming in fear, wholly surprised at this sudden shift from the usually passive dragon to some sort of monster. Dark clouds closed in overhead, roaring with distant thunder, letting fat raindrops fall to the ground in time with the dragon's globules of saliva. For a moment he stood there, in thought. A strange feeling of power had rushed through him, so different from the empty guilt he was used to feeling.

And he loved it. For once, he had been the one in control, if even for just a few seconds. It was then he realized he'd lived his whole life a dead, hollow case for his family to throw their woes into. Only now did he feel that he was beginning to live after being dead so long. What that lady had called him, Pestilence...He liked that too. It seemed only fitting to take a new name for a new life. He would of course need to find a new home as well. He had no reason to stay in this infected mansion. Quickly, Pestilence dashed across the courtyard and out through the gate. Voices trailed behind, but were soon lost as the storm bent down to welcome him.

..........

Nᴏ Dᴀᴍsᴇʟ ɪɴ Dɪsᴛʀᴇss:
Though Pestilence can shift to his "other" side with relative
ease, his control over it is not complete. Pestilence relies
heavily on the fear of others to make himself feel strong. If
his target refuses to hint at even a sliver of fright or
discomfort, the connection between his two personas will
dissolve, leaving behind a powerless Pestilence. There
always seems to be that one bean that will see Pestilence as
a poor, misunderstood creature in need of help, but in
reality, Pestilence would love nothing more than to do away
with such people. All they ever do is stress and confuse him
with their refusal to submit to him like everyone else.

....╞══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╡

All art by me

Wʜʏ I Wᴀɴᴛ Hɪᴍ:
I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve wanted a zombean. I have a huge obsession
with zombies and have been hoping an artist would make one since about last Halloween.
When I saw this guy on the front page, I was just so ecstatic I could hardly contain myself,
but at the same time I felt extremely conflicted. Here was the bean I’d been waiting a
year for, but I was already trying out for another JBD, and I was actually quite happy with
my form. Well, I had to think long and hard about it. But in the end, this guy really stuck
with me. I knew school was probably going to be a big pain in getting a good form up
(and it was @_@) but I just couldn’t ignore the connection I felt with this bean. I’m not
exaggerating when I say I’d be completely over the moon to welcome a zombean into
my jam.

Tнё ёпd? MaуЬё.
Bцт їп a zомыє apоcalуp$ё, "тнє єиd" jц$т мёaп₴ щёlcомє то тнє ноґdє.

W̰̫̫̠̩̣̱̳̰̹o̖̖̞̖͔̼̱̼̭͇r̨̡̫̝͔̜͇͍̙ͅd̻͕̪̱͇̙͇͙̹͜ ̨͍̠̬͎̯̳̮̳̗C̡̨̼̰̮͕̜̰̲͜ǫ̧̨̖͇̺̮̣͓̫u̡̢͉͍̩̳̝̫̞͜n̡̤͙̩̣̫͎̫̞ͅt͍̲̖͎̺̠̤͙͖̟:̳͎̰͇̟̮̟̠̣͜ ̢̻̖̰͙̝͇͉̪̼1̢̧̭͚͚̠̱̹͔͜8̬̪̗̤̻͎̩͇̪͓5͚͙̺̦͍͔̹̪̗͜9̡̜͓̜̮͎̤̲̗̳

.

[Cayla]

zomielina - reserved!