Boite's Contest [Kalon Readopt]

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Boite's Contest
Main Contest Thread (13 Kalons in total!)
NB #2295 | (No Shading) | Off-Oekaki Growth

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edits;;

• Standard: Hair and shine

breeding slots;;
1 | 2 | 3

color palette;;

▉ #d3e2e7
▉ #63314c
▉ #c4b3a9
▉ #373236

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This contest is purely development by writing! Write your heart out about this character and the concept for them! You are not allowed to draw any pieces of art for this contest.

Limitations + Guidelines:

• Anyone can enter
  
• No art allowed
• Unlimited writing
• Prettying Up/Coding permitted
• Form can be made off-site/in a new thread and linked back here
• You must include the kalon's new name somewhere on your form

Prompt: use a first line generator (such as this one) to get you started!

End Date: Ended

[cyrevan]

marking <33

[doryphoros]

possible mark :)
with "She had no intention of choosing sides until she was sure who was going to win."

[22tabby]

“Everything about her was a lie”

Username: 22tabby
Kal name: “Diana” Greysdon
Gender: male (she/her pronouns)

Everything about her was a lie. From her lipstick to her pantyhose, none of it had been real. To her, it was all she had, but in this cruel world? She was nothing more than a perverted fraud.
Diana remembered as a kid how she would punch a wall to let out her frustration, but now she was worried about breaking an acrylic nail. “They’re expensive, you know,” she’d say to anyone who didn’t quite understand why she took so much care of them. Now, sitting alone in her bedroom, she felt a cool draft flit in from the window. She grabbed a white fox-fur stole, letting it cover her shoulders. It was normally so beautiful, but she was afraid some of her mascara had run onto the fur, and now it would need cleaning.
Turning to the mirror from where she sat on the bed, she saw how much of a wreck she looked. Her pantyhose were running and torn in various places, she had mascara all down her cheeks (damn her for not buying the waterproof), her hair was no longer curled properly, and her dress had been pulled in such a way that the tightening strings were all too loose. How had this happened?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps for tonight she’d just go to bed. Her apartment doors were locked, and she really just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts.
She stood up with a sigh, grabbing a flannel pant and shirt set and changing into them before laying down. She had thrown her dress in the corner, and as far as she was concerned, it was ruined forever. The bed was comfortable and plush under her, and she half-wished she could just sleep for the next week or two until everyone stopped caring, but of course, no one ever would.
She grabbed a framed picture off of her nightstand, and saw herself standing in a tight undershirt- just enough to show off her washboard abs and flat chest. That was a long time ago.
~~
That night, Diana dreamed of dancing on stage. She danced as if no one saw her as the freakish liar. She dreamt that she was as beautiful to everyone else as she felt to herself.
She danced, and the crowds cheered her name. “Diana!” echoed in her head until she wondered how she could ever have had a different name.
~~
When she woke up, however, that dream ended. Not only in her sleep, but in her mind. She’d been outed for who she was. She knew in her mailbox there would be hate mail. Her landlord would probably kick her if she wasn’t careful.
She sat up slowly, and grabbed her phone. Several spam calls and emails, none of which she cared to listen to or read today. In her hand, she felt her phone vibrate. Apparently the fifth text from her old friend.
“Hey!”
“Diana!”
“Diana I love you.”
“Please... tell me you’re okay.”
“...you’re strong. I love you.”
Diana almost laughed. Was she supposed to think her friend would ever understand? “Babe... that’s not my name.” She typed out the words, but was never strong enough to hit send. Her friend was wrong.
She turned off her phone, and stood up, walking to her closet. As she flung the doors open, she almost felt sick. Dresses, skirts, high heels. That was her curse, wasn’t it? She reached into the back recesses of the closet and grabbed a simple grey t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and a pair of blue converse shoes. She walked to her vanity and sat down. She hadn’t dressed like this in years. Not since she was little.
Her makeup was still smudged all over her face from the night before. She grabbed a cleaning wipe and cleaned herself up, but it didn’t hide the darkness under her eyes from being so physically exhausted.
At least this way, she looked “normal”, or at least some semblance of the word. Although shaved legs, pierced ears, and longer hair made it hard to see anything more than the nasty words that she had been called out on the street.
~~
Outside, she immediately saw people whisper, whipping out their phones to take “subtle” pictures. They didn’t smile. They didn’t greet her. The faces that used to beam at her looked fearful and full of distaste.
Had she really lost everyone so quickly? Was all it took one man to tell her that she was wrong? She sighed, trying her hardest not to make eye contact with anyone. It was too hard.
She just had to buy food for tonight. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? But the entire trip had Diana wanting to tuck her tail between her legs. She wanted to run away from everyone. It felt as if there was a large weight on her chest and she couldn’t breathe. Anxiety- something she has never felt like this before.
“Diana?” A voice came from somewhere behind her, and she immediately broke into a run. It only caused more of a commotion, making heads turn in every direction. What was she supposed to do?
~~
Back at her apartment, Diana put the chicken she had bought in the sink to thaw. She took off her shoes in her room, and then went into the living room and curled up on the couch.
Her phone was still off from this morning, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to check it. But, she turned it on anyway, and was horrified to find hundreds of emails, tens of text messages, and almost a thousand social media notifications.
Everyone hated her. She couldn’t even dare to unlock her phone to check these messages.
~~
This habit continued for a week. Fear, anxiety, unwillingness to face the truth.
For the eighth day in a row, she got a call from her old best friend, whom she had been ignoring since when they last spoke on the day after it started.
A loud beep sounded, and her answering machine took the call. Her friends voice rang out loud and true; “Diana... please. I’m worried. We are worried. I’m coming over. I’ll see you in-”
Diana picked up the phone with shaky hands. “Don’t bother.” Her voice was raspy. “It’s not gonna matter.”
“...I’ll see you in 20 minutes.”
Diana sighed and hung up. Her friend was stubborn, but she supposed it wouldn’t hurt. She threw on some real pants, and waited for her friends arrival.
~~
Thirty minutes passed- of course her friend would be late- before her room door was flung open.
“Diana, this isn’t like you. You don’t look like you’ve worn makeup, or even... brushed you hair.. in days.”
Diana only looked blankly at her friend. “Yes, it’s been days.”
Her friend grimaced. “Diana-“
“I said stop calling me that.”
Diana only got a sigh in response as her friend sat down next to her. “Please, check your phone. People are worried.”
“No, you were worried. Everyone else? They’re more worried about the clothes I’m wearing.” Diana’s voice cracked as she spoke, as if she was about to cry.
“Don’t you love to be difficult?” Her friend grabbed the phone off the side table and turned it on.
Diana only turned away from her, hearing the buzzes of all her old notifications coming through. It sounded like there was a raging bee hive behind her.
“Babe, check your phone. Just... check Facebook or Twitter or something.”
“...” Diana took the phone out of her friends hand. Did she really have a choice? She logged into Twitter and began to read off Tweets.
“Diana, where are you?”
“Diana, you’re beautiful darling!”
“No one can tell you who to be!”
“Diana you’re such a queen, come back!”
“Diana you’re me hero! #DianaLove”
She took a sharp breath and searched up the new hashtag.
“#DianaLove that guy was stupid and we miss you!”
“Your clothes don’t matter- it’s your skin- and babe you’re fabulous! #DianaLove”
She saw pictures of herself the day she had dressed in her old clothes, captioned “This isn’t the Diana I know and love!”
Diana felt tears in her eyes. No it wasn’t supposed to be like this. All these positive comments. She was sure the world hated her.
“See, Diana, we all need you.”
Diana smiled. “Thank you...” She looked over at the photo of when she was young again. Short boyish hair and a boyish smile. Then she looked to the mirror, and without her makeup, she saw that again, but it wasn’t familiar. She got up and went to her vanity, quickly putting on makeup.
She smiled at her friend, grabbed her phone and made a Tweet: “No one can drag down a drag queen. #DianaLove”
Her friend began to smile. That’s all she wanted to hear. Diana was going to be coming back, and making a big reappearance.
There wasn’t a thing about Diana that she had to hide from the world. She was truly her, and no one was gonna dull her sparkle.

[SilentMelody]

as the policeman pulled back the sheet, she knew immediately that this was her girlfriend and business partner - elizabeth hayes. calypso could only stare blankly down at the corpse and repeat to herself in her head, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead. an afterthought appeared, of course she's dead, you're a detective. this was bound to happen at some point. someone is after your work.

calypso glanced up at the policeman and dipped her head. she told him, "you can put the sheet over her." he nodded back at her and obliged, covering her pale face. that image would be engrained in her head, and she wasn't sure she could ever get rid of it. grief would hit her harder later. for now, calypso knew she was going through the stage of denial and she'd have to face the truth. it was a harsh truth, but that came along with the job of being a detective in england.

the people here were ruthless. the killer that calypso was currently tracking down was a man by the name of james the slasher, and this murder was similar to his signature kills. she could tie it back to him, but she'd have to be careful and collect all of the proof. she would also have to do this without getting killed by the slasher himself.

---

later that night, as calypso was reviewing her notes, she came to a realization. the only way that she could catch the slasher would be to go out herself. this would be dangerous, and she'd have to bring along some sort of protection. she rummaged through her items in her closet and came to a wooden box, seemingly normal. when she opened it, calypso revealed a pistol and tucked it in the inside pocket of her long trenchcoat. "this is for you, elizabeth."

calypso headed out to the thames, which was his most popular location and an easy way for him to dispose of the bodies. or at least try to - he was never successful at this since she always found them. now she would find him and hopefully turn him in peacefully.

as she walked, an echo of footsteps followed her. when she slowed, they began to disappear. when she quickened her pace, they also fastened their footsteps. someone was obviously going where calypso was going and copying her movements. don't say anything, and be careful, she thought to herself. that's what elizabeth would say.

abruptly, she stopped under a lamppost and whirled around to face the person.

a man almost bumped into calypso, but he didn't seem alarmed and showed no emotion on his face other than a crazed smile. "you thought you could search for me, hmm? but look who found the other! i'll always be one step ahead of you," he snickered and shook his head. james the slasher, right in front of her.

"but of course, now i have to kill you," james murmured and slashed at calypso's stomach before she could react. she exclaimed in pain and pressed a hand over the wound, finding it wasn't that deep. bending over, she winced and pretended as if she could not stand up. in reality, calypso was secretly reaching for the gun in her pocket and quietly cocking it. as he stepped closer, she suddenly sprang up as best as she could and aimed swiftly. her eyes made her lucky, and she pulled the trigger. the bullet flew into his chest, and his jaw dropped open. he could no longer utter any words as he fell forward and did not catch himself, his head hitting the ground hard.

calypso watched him for a few moments before turning away and leaning against the lamppost, applying more pressure to her wound. the police would be here soon - there were neighbourhoods not far from the thames, and someone was bound to have heard the gunshot.

"that's the last time you'll kill, james," she said aloud to the dead man. "if only i managed shoot you sooner." from afar, sirens blared.

[cherubim]

Head high, she swept out of the room. A second later, head even higher, she swept back in, snatched up the money and was gone again. mark!!!

[cokie]

mark,

"he was stunned - the stranger in front of him looked exactly like the girl he'd been dreaming about"

[lunaire]

mark!

[Trphlthdl]

On the Livingstone estate, flies were sometimes the first indication that someone had died.

[OriGalaxii]

Mark
They say everyone who looks into their family history will find a secret sooner or later