[Meleys]

congrats <3

[Creative]

Decided to drop since I have two plumerians now and I think someone else would love her/him more than I would be able to. <3 Good luck to everyone else, thanks for the chance to get this far, Courtoflions :3

[Ph.D]

Username:: Ph.d
Name:: Kodak
Gender:: Male
Round 1 Link::Boop
Round 2 Link::Boop
Round 3 Link:: Boop

Kid, you're five feet under but still three feet up.

When Kodak was in his teens, and first discovering his passion for the art of makeup he found himself feeling constricted by the way things were, not often being one growing up in the mortal terrors of the other children he was all the more conscious about his decisions. He would often find himself locking the bathroom door with his mothers makeup, it probably seemed odd to everyone else finding him seemingly less and less extroverted, hiding away and keeping secrets from them.

Eventually he found himself secretly buying makeup

.He always watched his sister growing up,
.Reads a lot, likes tea and hot cocoa
.He owns a cat, who he likes to dress up, not much of a dog person
.works out daily kind of thing, loves concerts
. sculpts, especialy wood
. He owns two places, one in town near his work and office, and another cabin further out.

-When he was younger he felt secluded to his love of makeup
-does other things, dancing, drag, athleticism
-His drag persona,
-daily life
-music
-tattoos
-family friends and other plumes
-curly fur

Berry, a model who he's done makeup for
- Go wild, be creative~ -

I'm quite excited for this opportunity, thank you! Will work on tomorrow <3

[mellow yellow.]

Interview by: MarandaHedgie
Raennae's Gender: Female
Past Interviews: 1st Interview, 2nd Interview,3rd Interview

Raennae’s interest in storms first came about when she was a small pup. She came inside when it had started to hail when her mother had called for her. Raennae had never seen anything like it; ping pong ball sized chunks of ice falling from the sky. She asked her mother what it was. With a soft chortle, the large wolf sat down next to the small Plumerian and looked down at her.

”Raennae, can you tell me what my name is?” She asked, waiting for an answer from the child. Surprisingly, the small plumie responded quite quickly.

”Yes, mother! You’re name is Haglaz!” She said with a grin. Laz smiled at her quick response.

”Now, tell me what my name means.” Raennae suddenly drew a blank, looking down the ground, then out to the storm silently as she tried to get an idea. The ice spheres continued to pour from the sky lazily, not seeming to want to cause any kind of damage with their small size and slow descent. ”Can’t figure it out? Well, you’re looking at it. My name means hail.”

Raennae slowly blinked, her eyes shifting to her mother, then back to the storm. ”That’s what that is? Hail? And that’s what your name means?... So what about daddy? Fehu?” She asked, curiosity in her eyes.

”His name means wealth. He has that name because of the coin around his neck.” She explained, watching the storm. Raennae nodded to her and looked outside.

”Have you ever thought about going after storms? Just watching them and learning about them? You know, because of your name and all.” Raennae asked, earning another chuckle from her mother.

”I have, but I didn't want to leave the animals, or daddy, or… You behind. But, I think if you like them, maybe, when you’re a little bit older, you can go after those big bad storms.” The small child looked up at her with sparkling eyes, suddenly inspired by her mother. She was now determined to follow her mother’s words.

ℓιғє ιsɴ'ᴛ αвσυᴛ ωαιᴛιɴɢ ғσя ᴛнɛ ƨᴛσям ᴛσ ραƨƨ...

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The room was blurred with light as it came through the terra-cotta shaded curtains that hung over the window, and Raennae faced her arch rival. Having only a blanket to shield her, she began to hear the shrill war cries of her foe, as cruel and merciless as they were. They forced the plumerian to groan with exasperation as she pulled the fluffy shield over her head in an attempt to block out the cries. The torture went on for about five minutes before she gave in to her foe’s demands. She rolled over, her paw shooting out from under the fluffy shield, and she delivered a fatal blow to her nemesis. The alarm clock fell off of her night stand and hit the hardwood floor below with a defeated clink and ding. Threat terminated. For now…

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Pushing the blanket off of her body, Raennae slowly went into a sitting position and turned to face the window, getting a small taste of the warm sun’s rays before pushing the curtains apart, bathing the room in the orange light of the sun as it peeked it’s head over the horizon. That’s what it always looked like at six o’clock, unless it was a rainy day. Those were Raennae’s favorite days as a pup, and even to this day. She used to go out and stomp in the puddles with her dog, Buddy, and they would play fetch with the sticks of the pine trees in their big yard.

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Oh how much fun it was when she was just a pup. Now, though, she was used to taking care of the farmlands with her father and mother. All she really wanted to do was be a Storm Chaser, and today she would go after her first one. The weather forecasters had been talking about a big thunderstorm chain going around her area, and now she was going to leave the farm behind and lead her own life.

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No more chicken, cows, sheep, or horses.

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No more planting seeds or digging holes all day.

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And no more alarm clocks.

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Just her and her dream.

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She moved to stand from her bed, but ended up tripping over her blanket due to it somehow getting wrapped around her back leg. So much for a name meaning “graceful,” right? She thought to herself irritably she as she untangled her leg from the blanket and made her bed. She then headed out to the barn to feed all of the animals, then quickly tended to all of the yard work of the day. All she had to do today was water the plants, which consisted of turning a knob back at the house, which would turn on all of the sprinklers. Easy-peasy.

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She looked up at the sky as she finished up with feeing the chickens, noticing that the cirrus clouds had moved out, and the stratus and cumulonimbus were moving in. A small frown came into her face. The forecasters said that it would be a lot later in the day than this. She quickly went in to look at the weather on the television.

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Raennae turned on the old, dusty television, watching the static pour into the screen for a second before the signal caused electricity to be seen between the antennae on the top of the small box, and an image was seen. The weatherman told of storms rapidly approaching the countryside, and warned that there was rotation within the storms.

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She knew she had to warn her mother and father. … But, then again… I could go chase that storm on my own… She shook out her head, her eyes narrowing at her own incompetence. No! I have to warn them! What if that tornado comes and rips this place apart!

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She quickly ran upstairs, the wall next to her was lined with black and white pictures of her adoptive parents; Fehu(Her father) and Laz(her mother). Both of them had taken care of her for all of her life, and they had done the best they could. She thanked them every day for what they had done for her.

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She quickly opened the door to their bedroom, finding them still getting ready for the day. They had just finished, with Fehu pulling on his hat and Laz helping him with his necklace. Raennae looked at them in alarm. ”You guys need to get to the basement! There’s a thunderstorm with a tornado about to run through here!!” She told them quickly as her mother finished putting her father’s necklace on him and she looked up at her.

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”Are you sure sweetie? I thought it was supposed to be a bright, sunny day!”

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”Yes I’m sure! The weatherman just said so on the news! You two need to get down to the basement! Don’t make me carry you!!”

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”Carry us?! Now that’s just absurd!” Fehu said quickly before walking past her and to the basement, leaving the two ladies alone in the room. Determined to get her mother to the basement, Raennae ran behind Laz and grabbed her by the scruff, earning a chuckle from the older wolf.

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”What about the dream you used to have as a puppy? To go chasing after those big bad storms? Where did that dream of yours run off to so suddenly, huh?"

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A scowl formed on her face as she continued to carry her. ”It didn’t go anywhere. I wanted to track storms. I still do.” She said, her voice muffled by her mother’s fur. The old wolf looked back at her with a small smile.

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”Then do it. I don’t want you to stay at this old farm any longer. It would only make the world grow smaller. Go out and live your dream! Chase your storms and follow the winds! Then, if they ever lead you back home, you can settle down and take over the farm if you so choose.” She said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as they came to the bottom of the stairs.

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Nearby, lightning struck a tree, and the resulting thunder caused the house to shake, and made a picture at the bottom of the stairwell to fall off the wall, making them both gasp and causing Raennae to drop Laz. The picture was a family picture of the three of them, and even Buddy in front of the barn when it had first been built. That had been the best moment for the family. Raennae picked up the picture carefully, making sure to move the shattered glass off to the side.

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”Take that to remember us by.” Laz whispered to her, giving her a small hug before hurrying downstairs to the basement. Raennae was left alone with the picture of her family, now. She was all on her own with her dream, just like she wanted; so why did she feel so sad all of a sudden? She had wanted to leave the farm, and she was even being told to, now. There’s no reason she should feel so bad…

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A loud clap of thunder brought her back into the real world. She ran upstairs into her room and grabbed a bag to put her picture into, quickly tying it onto her back before hurrying outside, but not without tripping down the stairs. She looked at the stairs angrily. ”Are you kidding me right now?!!” She quickly recovered, getting to her paws and hurrying outside.

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She could see a large funnel cloud off in the distance, spinning with the fury of the winds around it. A large bolt of lightning struck a tree on the outside of the yard, the deafening lap of thunder causing Raennae to fall to the ground and hold her ears for a moment. When she was finally able to stand, she ran after the tornado as fast as she could. Rain pelted down on her as she ran, making the ground slick and making her begin to slip. She was determined to follow this storm, though.

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Raennae sped up once more, finally getting towards the side of the now slower-moving tornado. She guessed that the air was beginning to lose the updrafts it needed to keep the tornado at its top rotation. She kept at the tornado’s side as the bottom of it left the ground, dissipating completely, with the rest of the tornado slowly following in the bottom’s path. Once the tornado had disappeared, Raennae sat down on the ground, trying to catch her breath from the run.

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She looked at the sky, seeing that the cumulonimbus clouds had not dissipated at all. She saw a road not far off that lead her to a city. For some reason, all of the windows were boarded up. She walked into a motel, which was thankfully still open. She asked the plumerian inside for a room, giving her what little money she had.

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”So, why are all of the windows boarded up?” She asked, genuinely curious about the situation. The little plumie chuckled at her a bit, seemingly amused by her curious nature. Raennae’s slowly expression changed from cheerful and curious, to confused.

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”What, you don’t know?” She shook her head confusedly, shrugging a bit. ”Well, that tornado might be the first of a few. See, we live right by the water, and right now is hurricane season. And you’re standing right in the middle of one!”

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Raennae was sure she looked like a child on Christmas day.

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ιᴛ’s ℓɛαяɴιɴɢ ᴛσ ∂αɴcɛ ιɴ ᴛнɛ яαιɴ!

Haglaz Nyström

The adoptive mother of Raennae, and the one who had given her her interest in storms and weather. It’s safe to said that these two have quite the strong connection. From the very first moment Raennae could remember, she has always had fond memories of her mother; cooking with her, playing with her, reading with her; even working with her was a day to remember.

The day that she had left the farm was one of the worst days she could remember because she and her mom had been left alone, together, for that time reminiscing. After that, she did not want to leave, but she knew that if she stayed, her mother would only have shame in her for not following her dream, so follow her dreams she did, and that is the only reason she regrets it.

Raennae loves her mother more than anything in the world, even storms, and she misses her with all of her heart; but she knew if she were to turn back now, Laz would only be disappointed in her, and sent her straight back, because she disobeyed. She went against the winds and went home. A storm hasn’t sent her back yet.

A lonely heart has.




Fehu Nyström

The adoptive father of Raennae, and, although she doesn’t see him often, their relationship could use some work. They have build up a love-hate relationship. Raennae’s constant attraction to the weather channel anytime she should be working makes him more unstable than Yellowstone park when the geyser erupts. She never seems to understand when she should be working, but when a Fehu’s around, the message is loud and clear.

Through her teenage years, Fehu had begun to mellow, and allowed Raennae more free time on the account that he was now home more and no longer needed to go into town. They could now sell their crops at home, which boosted profits more than ever! More wealth! More wealth! His happier mood seemed to boost their relationship, slowly but surely, due to the fact that he was no longer constantly exploding at her.

A month before Raennae had left home, Fehu had started to become old and frail, reaching the end of his rope. Worried, Raennae had told him to stop working the fields and watering the plants. She would take care of him during the night, carrying him up and down the stairs on her back or by the scruff if he would struggle. She would also make his food, and mush if up so he could easily swallow it. Fehu’s sudden frail state had brought out a care for him that Raennae had never shown until now.
It just goes to show what time can do to a heart.

When Bijou and Raennae had first met, Bijou had been serving some community service; albeit strange community service, it was service nevertheless. Raennae had finished chasing her first storm, with 500 dollars on paw at the time. She looked at a nearby newspaper, which said that the best chance for a tornado would be in two days. The cost of the rooms was 74 dollars a night. She used 148 of her 500 dollars to rent a room for two nights.

Bijou quickly handed her the key as they chatted about why the windows were blocked. She didn’t seem to want to talk for much longer than she needed to. Understanding that, Raennae thanked her for the key and headed upstairs to her room.

She opened the door and headed inside, seeing a large bed with freshly washed sheets. Her paws made little clicking sounds against the hardwood floor as she made her way over to the bed, assessing the room. She let down her bag on the nightstand to the right of the bed. On the one to the left, there was an alarm clock, and a lamp. She checked the bed for bedbugs before turning on the television, a little confused when she saw a remote. She had to ask the plumie who came to clean the rooms how it worked.

Once she got the television to the weather channel, she climbed on the bed and got comfortable, curling up into almost a ball. She pulled the blanket over her carefully and made sure the lamp was off before slipping into sleep.

A loud crashing noise roused Raennae from her slumber. Darkness surrounded the plumerian, telling her it was still late in the night, and her television had been turned off. She moved to turn on the lamp to find that it was no longer on the nightstand, but rather, on the floor. It had been shattered, most likely by the plumie that was now in her room. ”Hey! Who are you?!”

“Oh, hey there! I needed to take these downstairs and put batteries in them! Manager’s orders! I had to do it with all of the rest of the others.” It’s the plumerian from downstairs… I thoughts she just handed out keys…?

”I don’t need a speech. Just take the clock and go!” Raennae said tiredly, rolling over. Bijou shrugged and left the room, telling the maid of the broken lamp while hiding the clock. She soon ran out of the hotel, the clock still hidden from any watchful eyes.

~~

The next morning, Raennae was waking up to… No alarms. She was waking up on her own terms for once. She looked up, seeing that the sun had risen already. She turned on the weather channel, seeing as how the clock was strangely not back yet, and looked at the clock there. She saw that it was about 9 o’clock. She grinned and pulled on her bag, putting her key in it and turning off her television before heading out to the town.

She wanted to go to the weather channel to see if they would have an opening for someone like her, someone who would be out in the middle of the storms, reporting on them. She didn’t even need a camera-man, just a microphone and them to put up with some slightly bad sound quality.

On her way there, Raennae saw the girl that had been in the main lobby. She seemed to be coming out of a blueprints shop, with a few in her back as she ran towards the outskirts of the town. An elderly woman ran out, yelling at the girl ”Thief! Thief!!” Raennae frowned and quickly followed the small plumerian, not liking the looks of things.

When she finally caught up to her, Raennae found a small house with many strange inventions around it. Grotesquely smashed up toys had been reconstructed to make new ones, and had been thrown into the yard, as if she wanted the to be forgotten. It was obviously a failed tactic, as one looked chewed up, and another was shredded.

Raennae padded up to the door, carefully walking around the strange toys, and opened the door of the house, only to find the plumerian was no longer home. She had apparently dropped her back and left the house through a window behind the bed.
Raennae looked at the blueprints, seeing that they were, once again, toys; this time, though, they interested her. They were little microphones with speakers on them; like a spy would wear. If made correctly, they could be used to help her track storms for the news channel. She had to find the kid, first.

…Is stealing from a thief still stealing?... Eh, probably not.

She stashed the blueprints into her bag and ran out of the house, closing the door behind her. She looked around the house. Think, Raennae, think! If I was a thief, where would I go..? She already went to the motel… Bank’s too cliché… She wouldn't go back to a place she already stole from… What about a jewelry store..? Raennae went back into town to check all of the stores.

After a few hours of searching for Bijou, she found no sign of her. She decided to go back to the motel. Surprisingly, Raennae found her back there, with a new clock. Her jaw dropped in surprise, but she quickly shook it away and went over to her.

”Alright, I have a proposition for you. You and I build this, and I won’t tell the cops about everything I’ve seen you steal and break over the past two days.” Raennae said quickly, pulling out the blueprints. Her eyes narrowed with obvious anger

”You can’t tell me what to do, and those were supposed to be mine!” Bijou yelled angrily.

Raennae chuckled at her. ”Oh, so you won’t mind if I just tell your boss to look at the overnight security footage of you going in my room, stealing my alarm clock, breaking my lamp, and lying to me, all at once. So, you can spend another however much time you spent working here all over again. She chuckled triumphantly, knowing she had the upper hand when she pointed that out.

Begrudgingly, Bijou helped Raennae to build the microphones using some scrap metal they got from buying clocks from a supermarket. Once the microphones were complete, Raennae put them in her bag, hid the bag somewhere Bijou wouldn’t find it, and fell asleep.

In the morning, Raennae immediately got up and looked for the microphones, finding them in the same place. As where she had put them. Relieved, she turned on the weather channel and put on her bag, listening for when the tornado watch would take effect. She saw that it would take effect at about three o’clock, and it was nine thirty-two. She made a note on a slip of paper and put the paper in her bag. She turned off the television and put the key in her bag, making sure she had everything she needed before leaving the room.

She gave the key to Bijou, thanking her for helping her with making the microphones. ”You really are a good kid at heart…” Raennae said thoughtfully to her, smiling gently. Bijou scoffed at Rannae’s comment.

”Just get outta here, will ya?” Bijou barked. Raennae chuckled at her, heading out towards the news station, where she would be trying to get her first job.

WIP

[fūi]

aa I can't believe this ;; thank you so much for the opportunity! Will work on this when I can !!
Username::
Name::
Gender::
Round 1 Link::
Round 2 Link::
Round 3 Link::

- Go wild, be creative~ -

[anime]

"Hello, friend! Lovely day, isn't it? Birds are chirping, the sun about to rise, and I get to visit my favorite house-- yours!" Baxter held out a newspaper, encased in a clear wrapping to the smiling Plumerian standing in the doorway across from him. "I know you say that to everyone you deliver mail to, Baxter." The crimson that flashed across Baxter's cheeks betrayed him.{x} "Yours is really my f-favorite!" He stuttered, grinning sheepishly. Years of delivering mail had given the initially awkward, quiet Plumerian a charisma that could only be acquired through what Baxter called 'social magic'. He politely dipped his head-- he needed to get going. "I gotta finish my route fast, the Sun is about to rise past the lake!" He said, waving as he headed towards the street.{x}

╔═══════════════════════════╗
username;; bad little boy
name;; baxter
gender;; male
profession;; just a mail carrier
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Baxter hurried to finish his three deliveries-- many knew his rushing well. "Enjoy the sunrise, Baxter!" or a "There goes Baxter, enthralled by the sunrise!" was the typical hastily put response from those he delivered mail to. As Baxter neared the end of the street, he broke into a run, the worn bag on his back rustling lightly. Finally, he reached his destination; the lake. He plopped down{x}, letting out a soft sigh of relief. As the sun slowly inched past the horizon, the lake began to sparkle, and his eyes glittered.{x} It brought him memories-- the boring mail carrier, Baxter, memories. Of space.{x}

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Everyone dreams of reaching out and touching a star{x}- to sit among them was Baxter's dream. However,
the program was not for everyone. Countless nights were spent pouring over books, and often, Baxter
fell asleep, hunched over his desk, face in a book{x}. But his determination paid off,when a letter arrived
in the mail. He had made it in the program. After several, the time had come; Baxter was due to set
up a small station in the place he dreamed of since childhood-- space. The voyage had gone without
a hitch. The only issue, however, was he strange occurrence that changed his life. One morning, as he
set up the station, he noticed an odd situation; the stars were shining brighter and brighter every second.
He covered his eyes in fear the beautiful sight might hurt his eyes, but, in a split second, they were back
to normal, as if nothing had happened. He gasped, and scribbled hastily on his notepad. He had to tell
the others. Back on Earth, though, as he explained this... anomaly, he was brushed off. Just your eyes
adjusting, some would say. But Baxter knew. Every sunrise, he had noted, the anomaly occurred. He
would watch the sunrise, and through his telescope, watch the stars shine brightly.{x} It was truly
fascinating. So Baxter decided to chase his dreams and move to a small town, where he could watch
the stars rise with no 'air pollution variables', as he would say.{x} He may be dreaming, but Baxter is truly
convinced. Every day, on his mail route, he watches the sun rise and the stars glow with growing
determination. He will discover something new, and he won't be the boring mailman. He'll be the
mail carrier and secret astronaut who brought a new meaning to the old song "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star".
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Username:: bad little boy
Round 1 Link:: one!!
Round 2 Link:: two!!
Round 3 Link:: three!!

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Thank you for this opportunity. I felt Baxter
was better suited with a less colorful form,
because his story adds all the color needed.
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Baxter is a bright, vibrant individual. His dreams seem to far exceed capacity, and his smile could knock anyone off their feet. However, Baxter seems to know always what path he's on, and follows his dreams to the fullest extent. He can bring a smile to anyone's face, and does everything with a big grin, a nice tune, and some killer shades. He's often easily distracted, though, and this can be a problem-- especially on his paper route. With a schedule that, according to him, must be finished before the sun rises, the chirping birds and butterflies that seem to hover around him constantly can cause quite the conundrum. Strangely enough, Baxter's dedication to his 'Twinkling Star' project is so strong, he can overcome these obstacles. While his job as a mail carrier isn't the most fun he's ever had-- especially for an astronaut like him-- he always is happy to deliver the mail, and carry a quick conversations with Plumes that are just beginning their routines. Nothing deters him, and the day he proves his project true, will be the day he shines like the stars.

[benjeep]

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☩ Menu ☩

Today's Special: [X] + [X] + [X]
Customer's name: benjeep
Chef's name: Théo Castillo
(Tay-Oh Kaas-tea-yo)
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Nationality: Spanish
Sexuality: Homosexual
Talents: Traditional Spanish cooking,
dancing (a flamenco ballet hybrid)
Current positions: Chef and Recortador
here at El Matador, traditional spanish
restaurant owned by his father
Other job experience: Personal Trainer

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// Shy // Kind // Hardworking // Strong // Inspirational // Traditional //

A man of few words, but empowering actions.

Biography:


Born in the hot and bone dry country of Spain, I was always a happy child. When I was very young, there couldn’t have been a day where I didn’t have a bright smile stretched cross my face. I owe this mostly to my family. I couldn’t have wished to grow up in a better household. They were always right behind my every move, supporting me in whatever I wanted to pursue.

To put it simply, I had always been a bit chubby as a child. I didn’t really enjoy all the rough sports the other boys liked, and though, occasionally, I did go outside to play, I didn’t do as much physical activity as I probably should have done.

But my hours inside were not wasted.

Every day, I sat in that small earthy kitchen and cooked with my mother. I was determined to learn the ways of a chef so that I too could one day become the chef at the family restaurant. I can't even begin to tell you home many hours I spent in that little tiled room full of mouth watering aromas.

Anyway, the size of my body had never been of concern to me, I was happy, and that was all that mattered.
But in my first year of highschool it all changed.

That horrible summer day, the first day of school, I came home with tears streaming down my face.

"Mijo (my son), what is the matter?" my mother asked concerned when she saw the complete state of devastation I was in.
"The children, they make fun of me because of my weight. The boys, they call me ‘fatty’ and the girls, they call me ‘ugly’. I do not want to go back to school."

"But mijo, you must go back. I am sure that if you’re strong, they will leave you alone."

But they didn't.

Every day, I came home bloodied and bruised from being beaten up after school. I ended up having to start stealing my mothers makeup to make sure that no one at home saw all my scrapes and bruises. Though they had always been supportive, for some reason I had it in my head that they’d laugh at me too, and tell me to “man up”.

One day, when I was walking home, a group of the boys from school jumped out from an alley and began to chase me. They had pursued me into town after I managed to escape their attack, so I quickly hid in an old abandoned theatre.cI needed a place to lay low for a while, and it would serve it’s purpose well. Inside, I found an old empty stage and seats. Sighing, I walked down the red carpet and sat in a seat near the edge. The stage, despite what I thought, was not empty. A man, handsome and shirtless, strode onto the stage unaware of his secret audience. Intrigued, I watched the stranger. The man grabbed a cd player, hit a button, and as beautiful Spanish guitar flowed through the speakers, he danced. It was a dance of solo passion, with a relentless beat; it was the flamenco.

The next week I convinced my parents to take him to flamenco lessons. At first I was horrible, a mess of uncoordinated limbs, but with my dead set determination, nothing I dreamed of could ever be impossible.

As the days turned to months and the months turned to years, I slowly became better and better, and with all this strenuous physical activity, I became stronger as well (both mentally and physically). Soon enough, I was turning the heads of men and women alike with my impressive muscles and shiny piercings.

One day when I arrived at the dance studio, Théo noticed a poster stuck to the door. "World Famous Ballet Performance". I could barely contain his excitement when I read the title. From that day on for 4 weeks, I didn't even spend a dime of my pay, so that I could go see the performance.

The night of the performance, I fell in love with ballet. Determined to add grace to my intensive flamenco dancing, I created my own hybrid between flamenco and ballet; passion and speed mixed with grace and jumps.

Though I can’t quite believe it, now, at 29, they consider me one of the best dancers in Spain. But everywhere I go, I am determined to spread my story of perseverance. The story of a bullied little boy that showed the world his body could never define him.

"Little flecks of spittle drip from the mouth of the beast, the whites of his eyes glinting in the blinding light of the midday sun. The heaving animal raises his head and paws at the ground. All 2000 pounds comes hurtling at me, muscles the size of my torso stretching and retracting, moving this machine of a creature. Black like death itself, with two razor sharp horns upon his massive head, he zeroes in on his programmed target:

Me.

I am the object of his anger, the embodiment of his fury. I see the red of my cape reflected in the endless black pits of his eyes, like blood diffusing into the darkest oil. One stab of his twin swords and my pure and untainted soul would no longer be held down by the body that it does poses. But I dwell not on what was, what will, or might be. The moment is now.

My muscles strain as I push my entire body mass up off the ground, bones and tendons creaking with effort, while gravity claws at my form but fails to bring me down. I can feel him now, his damp breath on my body, mixing together in that moment our souls, our thoughts, our minds. But, I fly; an angel without wings, soaring through the two deadly pillars at the gates of hell. My body is lighter than air as I fly over the writhing creature.

Impact.

My feet hit the ground, throwing up dust. I bow. The crowd roars.

The beast turns, and I run. But t’is not of fear nor cowardice; I run because I have won, and he knows it. In futile attempts of regaining the pride which I did skin from him, as a hunter may skin his kill, he pursues hot on my heels, knowing all too well that he has lost. As I dive over the boards, he lets out a furious bellow and makes an attempt to impale the said wooden planks.

But he will be given another chance at my life soon; we duel many times a day, a dance of man and animal.

This is the life of a recortador."

Sergio is a pet Spanish fighting bull owned by Théo. He's very docile when compared to the other bulls Théo has worked with. After their first duel, Théo couldn't help but keep him. Over the years they have grown very close, and they preform dance routines together in the bull ring at El Matador.

[Luscinia]

NOTICE::

1) PLEASE DO NOT EXPECT ME TO GIVE AN EXTENSION, BECAUSE I WILL NOT GIVE ONE! I'm sorry, I truly wish I could to make it easier for everyone, but my schedule from here on out is very tight.

2) Since I realized it's kind of confusing, the competition will technically end on SEPTEMBER 2ND because of how time works oops. But you will not be able to work at all on September 2nd considering it ends right at midnight.

[Luscinia]

Sorry for the delay, guys! But I've finally read through all of the forms, and I've decided our winner...
Some notes before I announce, though::

1) ALL ART MUST GO TO THE WINNER! UNLESS- it is a human form without any Plumerian features / you've gained permission from me [note:: i will not accept 'I want to color it in as another plumerian' as an excuse UNLESS the owner of the Plumerian decides it doesn't fit their character]

2) IF you have nothing nice to say, please, for the love of all things great, say NOTHING AT ALL! No guilt tripping guys, it's very immature.










the winner is...




MARANDAHEDGIE!!!

I just really loved reading your form, it really caught my attention. It was super creative!

BIG hm to .neo, your form was gorgeous and you really made this competition hard to judge!

[Creative]

Congrats!!! <3