[Charchar2]

Wowww I can't believe we're up to 666 plumerians already! So here's a special little one, as some of you have predicted. ;>
They're a counterpart of sorts to #50, the 'angel' plumerian!

They have little devil wings, glowy feathers, and a 'dissolving'/shattered halo. Do note, though, that these are just edits -- they don't have any magic powers and aren't of magical origin.

This will be an impress-me, and you can do whatever you want for your form. It'd be great if you could include some sort of info about their relationship with Kin (#50 -- info here) -- but it's up to you what you think the character you'd develop for them would think of her, or if they've even met at all! 0':

This competition will end in one month, on January 13th. Have fun!

[AustrianAce]

marking ahh <3

[10ke]

/marks/
may help another person? pm me i guess? ovo
helping comic sans!

[she wolf warrior]

screAMS


666 IS FINALLY HERE YASS !! ;0;

[Lillybear]

WILLING TO HELP SOMEONE WITH THEIR FORM!

Just PM me.

I'm helping GressgrinAST, please don't PM me anymore.

[GressgrinAST]

xxx┏xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx┓

name;;
Darcy, meaning 'dark one'.
her surname is Houston.

gender;;
female.

5 word personality;;
barbarous. callous. savage. abhorrent. inexorable.

xxx┖xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx┚

likes;;
• darkness- her eyes are sensitive and do not react well to light, so she has learned to accept being in the dark.
• dark chocolate- she detests the taste of lots of sugar, and this is bitter enough to balance the sugary taste of chocolate out.
• raccoons- her favourite animal. they, like her, thrive where they cannot be seen, living their lives contentedly in the shadows.

dislikes;;
• milk chocolate- it's so horribly sweet that she can't get the taste of it out of her mouth for hours.

fears;;
• crowds. Although the
• snakes.
• getting lost.

background;;
"Darcy, please...!"
"Stop, you're hurting them!"
"Darcy! Stop that, right now!"
"Please, please, just stop it..."

Their voices were like music to my ears. My old friends. My old family. My new enemies. What had I done? I'd caused pain. I'd caused pain to a young, innocent plumerian. They had just been walking along, minding their own business, and I just lost control of myself and slashed out at them. When the others heard their calls for help as I chased them through the streets, they tried to restrain me. It didn't work. I broke free of their grips and threw myself at the other plumerian once more. At that point, my thoughts caught up with me. I was suddenly aware of what I was doing, and could finally think clearly. That didn't stop me, though. I didn't let my newfound consciousness tear me away from what I strongly felt I had to do. To cause pain. To cause harm. To cause death. That was what I had to do, and I very near did.

When I was finally torn away, my victim cowering on the ground with immense fear frozen in their eyes, I felt no regret or anything of that ilk. No guilt, no remorse, nothing. No emotions at all. The piercing gazes of those who had stopped my attacks had no effect on me. To this day, I still wonder why. Perhaps I changed somehow. I don't know. Maybe I was meant to turn out this way. That's what everybody who meets me thinks, anyway; that because I have dark fur and glaring red eyes that it's in my genes to be evil, or that my shattered black halo and pair of dragonlike wings symbolise that I am the reincarnation of all things bad. I never considered myself to be that way, and neither did any of my friends. My family? Well, there's no way of knowing what they thought of me. They're gone anyway.

Longer ago than I can remember, my parents disappeared. They didn't die, though. There have been sightings of them by police and civilians alike. Why police, you ask? Well, that is simple. My parents have been caught on closed-circuit television surveillance cameras, and pictures of them are often shown to the public. They're wanted for theft. Not petty theft, but large-scale thievery. They're like me, in a way, my parents. Naturally bad, with no retribution. Sometimes, I wonder what they were like, and what I'd be like if they didn't disappear that one cold night. I don't think I'd be any different, to be honest.

So I grew up on the streets. Where I come from, there weren't any orphanages. No shelter. No refuge. No asylum. The only living creatures that welcomed me were the bats that flocked to the abandoned house I slept in each day. Yes, I meant to say 'day'. I adjusted my own waking hours to occur at a time when nobody would be able to see me. My dark fur assisted me, and with the help of a simple black cloak, my glowing feathers were of no trouble. Over my mouth, I wore a black mask, patterned with a jagged red grin. If I could fly, things would have been a lot easier. Maybe my wings were able to life me off the ground when I was infantile, but they haven't grown with me, and the most I can do is glide for a few seconds. Heh, I guess that's a good thing, though. If people saw me flying, they'd probably fear me even more than they already do.

I lived by myself on the streets for a notably long time. One person visited me regularly. She told me her name was Kin. Kin Saionji. She was kind of like me, I guess. Halo, wings, and very young. But she was brighter than me. Always happy, even when she was sad, if that makes any sense. In a way, she had an air of joy about her. Every time she visited me in my small, run-down home, she seemed to spread some of her happiness to me, even if she didn't mean to. I found myself always expecting her visits, even looking forward to them. She never stopped being my friend. That was, until I left her.

Well, one day, Kin seemed even happier than normal. She told me that there was an orphanage opening just a little while away from where I was staying. Any normal child would probably be shattered upon hearing the news that they were going to an orphanage. Well, I'm not a normal child, and I was elated. For once, all the emotionless horror inside of me was taken over by the sheer awesome power of happiness. I finally had a place to stay, a place where I deserved to be, a place where plumerians like me can call home. Nobody to throw me out onto the street, tell me I was disturbing others, call me a filthy, worthless rat. Seemed perfect, even if it was small. I wanted to go there. I wanted to go more than I had ever wanted to do anything for my entire life up until that point.

Anybody could tell you that things aren't always what they seem, but nobody bothered to tell me just how often seemingly good things really are terrible. The orphanage turned out to be a huge mansion, with black iron gates, surrounded by an intimidatingly tall brick wall, covered in scratches too big and deep to have come from a plumerian. Just the appearance of the orphanage itself was enough to send cold shivers down my spine. I didn't even have to look inside to know how much I would hate staying there.

nowadays;;
Am I still the emotionless, insufferable wreck of a little girl that I was all those long, dreary years ago? Yes. If anything, even more so. Of course, I am older now; but with the disease that has caused my physical body to cease growing entirely, the only part of me that has grown is my mind, and along with it my boundless hate. Nobody ever expects children to do the things that I do, which I'm sometimes very thankful for. I've been alive for longer than I can remember, with nothing to show for it spare for a mind developed far beyond that of a regular child. I'm intelligent. I'm astute. I'm perceptive. I'm all of those wonderful things, yes. But what is a strong intelligence when the rest of your mind has gone to hell?

I'll tell you what. They're useful in one way, and that's for making sure I get away with everything I do. My wisdom allows me to avoid capture as I flee from places that I have heartlessly laid to waste, and the complete and utter lack of emotion - the very same that has ruined my life - makes sure that guilt never weighs me down. As my mind outgrows my child's body, I find myself often wondering what being a normal person would be like. Would I still act the way I act now? Feel the same, look the same, be the same, even? I... I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't matter, anyway. This is the path that fate has laid out for me, and twisted as it is, it demands to be followed.

leaving Kin behind;;
"Where are you? Darcy... please just come out."

With a snarl like a cut across my face, I glared at the plumerian behind me, my blazing red eyes piercing through the veil of darkness that hid me from the other's watchful gaze. My ash-coloured fur blended in perfectly with the lack of light, creating the illusion that I had simply slipped out of existence. As Kin paced back and forth along the floor of the abandoned room that I had been making my home, my dark mind was working to create a plan; a way of escaping that dreadful place without alerting my friend.

"D-Darcy... come on, the orphanage can't be that bad!"

Sometimes, I feel like the things that I imagine are really there. That's why I have to go, before I end up causing more harm than I should, to Kin or to myself. They're not hallucinations, because I know they're not real. I don't fear what I see. But it does scare me, in the way that a person who loved spiders would still be scared even a little if they turned and a tarantula was sitting on their back. It just surprises me, that's all and no more. I see hands. Huge, shadowy, ethereal hands, always just past my peripheral vision, slipping away as soon as my eyes focus on them. It started a long time ago. It hadn't stopped by that time. I'd scared Kin on multiple occasions with cries of "Did you hear that?" or "Can you see that?", and I had finally decided that I had to leave her. For the better.

I didn't make a sound as I crept past her, watching in grim silence as the worry on her face only intensified. She called out my name once, twice, thrice, the fear of the situation at hand clearly eating away at her. It was for her own good. If she wasn't willing to accept that, and fought against me trying to make her forget that I had ever existed, then there was one thing left to try. As I reached the window and placed a paw against it, I looked back. She was turned away from me, unaware that I was standing mere metres away from her. Slowly, carefully, I unfastened the rusty metal hatch that kept the window closed, then began lifting the glass pane upwards. A horrible screech echoed through the room, and I flattened my ears against my head. The window's rusty. Of course. I thought, my teeth gritted. I turned around, and my eyes locked with Kin's momentarily. As she opened her mouth to speak, I threw open the window, and jumped out into the street a metre or so below, cutting off whatever Kin was going to say. The last thing I ever heard from her was my own name, spoken in a voice sick with worry, fear, and overwhelming sadness. It's stuck in my head, the way she said it. It doesn't help, not one bit, especially when I'm trying to go about my business like a normal plumerian. She probably remembers me.

Well, if she won't forget me, I have no choice but to forget her.

[yttd]

mark ;)

res with the name Lonán [meaning little blackbird]

[NE0N-UMBR30N]

mark

[zaz]

wow char u really have reached a whole new level

[toothpick]

Marking