aa cant believe im uploading another one but im gonna be busy for a while
this one is mad hatter + white hare,, who also likes tea (who wouldve known)
end date 9/5/159/11/15 9/12/15 m so sorry this is the last one i promise
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username:
name:
gender:
personality:
shadows name:
favorite tea:
things to note:
- has a pony tail
- one side of hair is pulled back
- left eye is a clock
- sorry couldn't fit in, but they have dress shoes (that are the same color as the pants)
- the white on the jacket is lighting, its not actually white (some people mistook this)
extras and prettying up is forever yes
winner is Tart!
Tart wrote:Who are You?||
I am simply, Tart.
No more, no less.
Who am I?||
Archibald Mattias Travesty at you're service!
Goes by Travesty or Travis
Never call him Archie or Matt
Gender||
Codfish
Or as some put it Male
Actions? Words? A personality to boot?||
Eccentric and unpredictable yet very straight to the point.
You could almost call him a Travesty of what he was and could be. Travis can easily charm his way to anybody's heart. Being the practical jokester that he is he can make a joke go on for months until the punch line. Ultimately Travesty's personality changes daily, some days he can be as sweet as a sugar cube, others at deceitful as a snake. But no matter what he is like that day Travis always can go for a good laugh.
Travesty as he is, he has fits where he goes into a delusional state which may range from disconnecting and mumbling to himself to violence and twitchy ticking movements.
Always after his mental fits Travis immediately regrets and feels sorry becoming almost childlike in guilt.
My shadow follows me||
Named Beau, a kind and semi stoic rabbit.
Who likes to ride in my hat.
Tea time;time for tea||Egyptian Licorice
The tea of kings
Overall the taste of Licorice tea is just that pure licorice.
However it's as it travels through the throat when it is pure bliss. Sweetness floods the very core of you're being until reaching the mouth, all after swallowing. It's a very unique sensation that Travesty loves not just for the experience but the interpretation that sweetness can come from bitter roots.
Once upon a time||
In a distant age, there was a watchmaker and his son.
The watchmaker although young took up the care of a little orphan boy. Though poor he always worked his hardest trying to survive and provide. He worked all hours of the night creating and fixing the watches. It soon became Christmas time, the young watchmaker wanted to get his son a special gift. The watchmaker searched and searched until he was stopped to turn around, and spotted a stuffed rabbit in the window. That was it the perfect gift. Christmas Day came and the boy loved his rabbit to no ends, he kept it with him at all times. A year passed and the watchmaker became desprate due to a lack of supplies. He had to get by.
The young watchmaker found a quick and easy solution, Quicksilver. He soon stocked up and sold his watches, finally getting ahead in life.
Little did the watchmaker know the Quicksilver that helped him and his son survive was slowly poisoning the watchmaker. It was poisoning more then just his body but his mind as well. Soon the watchmaker became violently obsessed with his work spending days without sleep pouring over his creations. The boy was frightened and always clung to his rabbit watching the watchmaker fall into his madness. Soon the watchmaker started to notice his sight failing him and moving started to become harder. He became more irritated, lashing out at the boy who he seemed to barely recognize. Fearful for his life the boy hid from the estranged Watchmaker. The boy ran and ran in fear clinging for dear life to his rabbit. The watchmaker enraged by the boy caught up as the boy was making an escape down the stairs. The wretched watchmaker lunged towards the boy snagging the rabbit from his grip. The poor boy lost his footing as the watchmaker took his beloved rabbit and tumbled down the stairs dying from a broken neck and a broken heart. The watchmaker with the last shred of sanity approached the boy's corpse, realizing what he did the watchmaker sobbed over the boy. The last week of the watchmakers life consisted of him making little clock like rabbits as he talked to the boys stuffed animal. The clockmaker though well known dead, woke up to a ball jointed body. Though he had not a memory he felt his nonexistent heart hurt and yearn for the Rabbit which he called Beau.
