[hasu]

this is so hard, i loved him so much ,,,,,,, please take good care of him; he was my second staff custom
unlimited impress me. ends in a week (next saturday, 12 pm est)

he has one breeding slot left

Code: Select all

username:
name: (it'd be cool if you kept the name mira)
gender: male
personality:

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces

[evy]

username: quocoa
name: mira
gender: male
personality:

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces

res

[imp.]

mark

[sillies]

username:
name: (it'd be cool if you kept the name mira)
gender: male
personality:

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces

mark

[FoalMoon]

username: FoalMoon
name: Mira
gender: male
personality: WIP

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces

[WanSham]

Marking to watch hA

[gooey.]

ryan. || mira || male || prophet / fortune writer for fortune cookies

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Mira is a mystery. A recluse who spends his nights carving words
into treetrunks and leaving messages in the dust of sidewalks,
rather than sleeping. A man plagued by nightmares that don't
always occur just when he's asleep. A man who is used to
the trial and error of life. A good father - always trying to
be the best he can be for his children. Always trying to
assist his son in any way possible. Always trying to help
mankind. Always trying to save animals. Always, always,
always silent. No one knows much about Mira. Parents
in local villages tell their children stories of the "man in
the mountains" and make up mythical tales of horror or
harmony. Mira isn't these stories.
He's a brooding recluse, hopelessly frightened by others
but overcome with a need to help. He feels his purpose
is to show assistance to anyone, anything, in need. Deep
down, he knows this desire stems from the rumors of his
"sixth sense" being "unholy" and "evil," but he prefers
to think of it as simply a respect for the life around him.
He's quiet, orderly, and calm. Very socially anxious and
nervous, very clever and intelligent. He's a mystery to all,
including himself, at times.

In his mountain home, he makes a rather steady
living for himself by writing fortunes for fortune
cookies. It's an adorable task, really, and he likes
the idea of the smiles his happy fortunes have
caused. He classifies it as a form of "giving back"
to the community and world he loves.

【 522 words 】

Mira didn't get it.
Day by day, night after night, people would appear on his doorstep,
or in front of him in crowded city streets, or approach him in lonely
alleyways, just to say how amazing his powers were. How fantastic
and truly mesmerizing his abilities were! How, against all odds, he
had this extraordinary gift.
Mira didn't get it.
Nothing was extraordinary about the future, everyone would see it
eventually. Mira just happened to be able to see it a bit sooner than
the general population. This "gift" which was whispered about among
the locals of the towns and small villages nearest to his secluded home
in the mountains, was what some perceived to be a blessing, and others
perceived as a true curse and act of the unholy.
Mira, however, didn't get it.
It was just an aspect of him, an aspect that kalons travel for miles and
miles and miles to see used firsthand, in the flesh. They'd show up and
offer money, goods, anything and everything else for a "reading" -- a look
into their future lives. A look into what they'd, eventually, see themselves.
Mira did recognize it's potential. He'd been used by the government for a bit,
a brief period in which he was convinced, after many weeks of trial and error,
that his power was so special it could be used as a benefactor for the common
man. It had not occurred to Mira that "benefactor for the common man" meant
"weapon for war" until time proved it's true meaning. Upon having this revelation,
Mira fled far, far away, into the mountains, into the seclusion, where only local
villagers would whisper about his great power.

He didn't like to use it.
He thought of it as shameful; a trait in which he possessed as a deformity, like
something of a sideshow circus act. It was shameful.
That's not to say that he doesn't use it. Sometimes, when the time is right, when
the right circumstance surrounds him, Mira will look into someone's future. Someone's
longing and desire for the future will overwhelm him, and he won't feel whole again
until he agrees to assist the poor creature in the ways he can. In these moments, he is weak.
He is not a weak man. A "vow of silence" - or what it appears to be from onlookers -
is not something for a weak man. He hasn't spoken in years, decades -- he doesn't even
remember what his own voice sounded like. It's for the better. Always for the better.
Sometimes the world isn't meant to see things unworldly. The "mute" talisman remind
him of this. He keeps them close, keeps them near, in an act of this vow -- a reminder
of the unreadiness of the world.
They call him a prophet. Mira doesn't get it. He is a man, a mortal like all others.
They call him a saint; that's incorrect.
They call him a priest; that's also incorrect.
They call him an exorcist; he simply cleanses.
They call him evil; he hopes he is not.

Of everything they call him, Mira is certain of one.
They call him a mystery, and he is most definitely that.

It was late in the evening of a day Mira would consider "calm."
True, his mountains were usually peaceful (that's why he liked them so much,)
but this day was particularly still and quiet. In fact, he had noted that even when he
took the squirrels outside the leftover fortune cookie bits he always seemed to
accumulate throughout the day, they had not chittered and cooed and tried to follow
him back inside like usual.
He sat inside now, eyes closed, ears perked, listening to the sound of soft rain upon
the roof. A television sat a distance in front of him, his son had practically forced the
thing upon him, claiming it "wasn't good for him to be all cooped up away from the world
so often!" until Mira finally, finally, finally agreed to take the darn thing, which
was promptly never used. He had no use for it, besides to use it as a table to place his
handheld chalkboards and canvases full of paintings and future fortunes. He took a steadying
breath through his nose and released it slowly through his mouth. It was good to be calm.
A knock sounded on his door; light, gentle, hesitant. With an arched eyebrow, Mira rose to
his feet, gently took his cup of hot tea off the table beside where he'd been sitting, and
made his way over. He peered through the lookout hole for a solid thirty seconds, perplexed
as to why he saw no one standing before him. He opened the door, and jumped as a voice cut
through the still air.
"Mister Magic?" The littlest kalon kit stood before him, her big eyes sparkling in amazement
and awe. "Is it really you? Really?"
Mira didn't know what to make of this. He blinked once, twice, and finally reached for his
chalkboard that hung beside the door. Just as he'd laid paw upon the chalk, the kit spoke
again. "Oops! I'm sorry, Mister Magic, I forgot you don't talk! That's okay!! Um, me and my
little brother-" as she said this, she ran over to some brush and dragged out an even smaller
kalon kit, who had his mouth open and the same wide, amazed eyes. "we, um, we were just
wondering..." She paused here, and adjusted her jacket. Mira noticed it was rather chilly this
late at night upon the mountain. "Our mama tells us you make the best cookies with your magic!
She tells us stories about you a lot, Mister Magic, and I was just -- oops, I mean, we, were just
-- wondering if we could... maybe... have one of your fortune cookies?" She stood with her little
brother in front of her now, both of them smiling toothless smiles so wide Mira wasn't sure how
they were managing to keep them that long. "Us and our mama were hiking, and mama stopped
for a minute so... we told her we were gonna go explore and try to find you!" The walkie-talkie
she had in her hand, crinkled, and a voice said 'honey?' softly. "Just a second mama!" the little girl
squeaked. "We'll be right there!"

After a few minutes of them tracking dirt into Mira's house and a lot of giggles, they were sent
back to their mother with a sack of fresh fortune cookies and a new outlook on the magic of the world.

[king city]

by WanSham

Where did you go w r o n g ?

Mira was the perfect soldier. He would
carry out his actions, trained like his life
depended on it and was the hero the public
needed. But that takes a toll on people,
makes them a little, crazy. Mira was
and odd kid, and i knew best of all. No one
believed this little scrawny boy would become
our greatest hero and our greatest fear.

Nobody expected the war to be so close to home,
but no one really expected a war at all. Soldiers
were just a precaution. We got a letter from the
war front, calling our boys to fight by the generals
side.

They got a going away party, if that's what you
wanted to call it. Everyone was there, they wished
there sons and nephews well, praying to see them
again. Everyone was garnished in flowers, given gifts
to take on the road, but not mira. after all there was
no one to say good bye to him, except me. i wished
him well, and i wanted to see him again. I was too young
to leave at the time, but i still wanted to witness the bravery
of it all. Mira left with only his sword in his hand and a small
gift from me.

We waited for many months to see them again, the winter
passed and the seasons aged, but nothing came back from the
front. we didnt want to assume the worst, but what else could we
assume? After many more dreary months, we saw a them. A
party of soldiers crested the hill of our village, and we rejoiced !
we didn't expect to see them again and oh, what a pleasure it
was to see their forms over the hill.

we waited for them, and finally were able to hold our loved ones
again, but they were not the same. they had cheer in their eye
despite the wounds the carried. they said mira saved them, the
battle wasnt to be won but somehow, he saved them.

they hailed him as a hero, a man who could fight anyone, and win.
he was thrown feasts, received attention he once thought was only for
people who were the opposite of him. he was thrown into a new world
of swirling parties and a world of praise where he was a god among them all.

mira became obsessed. he needed the best, he wanted the best and would
accept nothing accept the best. suddenly people were nothing but vessels
to bring him the best. he treated us with disrespect and disgust, because
we weren't the best.

by cosmosfox

w h a t h a p p e n e d n e x t?

i told him of his faults.
i told him what he was doing.
i told him that he couldn't continue this way.
i told him something needed to change.

He listened to me.
he realized what he did, and who he had become.
he found someone to help him. someone who said he knew what to do.
i didnt trust him.
but mira did.
his name was bacili, and he was a spy.
(more reason not to trust him)

bacili said he knew someone, someone to help.
i didn't understand.
but mira did.
they left to find tea. someone who could see the spirits.

i asked mira what was happening, what he was trying to do
but he wouldn't tell me.
i think he was worried about hurting us
going back to what he used to do.

one morning, i woke up and he and bacili were gone,
everything he had was gone just like he was
he left no note
no warning
no nothing

no one saw he, or bacili, or tea, ever since then
i think they cursed him
cursed him not to speak
not to need
and not want
but i wouldn't know

he is still a hero to us, but one we don't honor
he's a ghost to us know,
someone the kit's tell stories of when they want to strike fear into their friends
but i still miss him.




───────────────────────────────────────

by avalon.

more art
Tea - owned by high noon
bacilli - owned by doxophobia;;
Mira - by forgive.

[ps4 kid]

username:
name: (it'd be cool if you kept the name mira)
gender: male
personality:

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces

RES

[néktar]

username:
name: mira "tuk"
gender: male
personality:

ALL THE EXTRAS
min.: short (200 word) story
two art pieces