[lunala.]

name; Armondo
gender; Cis male
gender for breeding purposes; male

Res with a Spanish artist <3

[sillies]

name;
gender;
gender for breeding purposes;

bless this mem child

res

[fromage]

dropping out- I REALLY tried, and I had a connection at beginning, but now I don't :c

Good luck to whoever wins! <3

[dzo]

Name;; Austin
Gender;; Female
Gender for breeding purposes;; Female

Austin has died not once, but twice before. In her first life she was a princess. Royalty and heir to the throne. Unfortunately, one of the guards turned out to be a hired assassin, and thus he struck her dead. Fortunately, her overly protective father used witchcraft to make it so she would come back to life if she didn't die of old age, just not in the way he hoped. He thought she would just be revived... not reincarnated. In her second life she was reborn as a commoner in a city far away from her small kingdom. She lived a mostly average life, but would have many strange dreams of her being a princess or being referring to as royalty/important at least. She didn't get the message of these vague dreams as never really believed in a past life. Austin wasn't a girly girl and ironically hated the thought of being a princess, so her only explanation to the dreams drove her crazy. She thought that she was too self absorbed and narcissistic, which she wasn't, and it drove her to be overly cautious of her behavior. That lead to her second death. She did so many selfless acts and frequently helped homeless viscets. She gave food and necessities to a viscet every day for a few weeks. That viscet wasn't the nice, unfortunate viscet he looked to be. Instead he was a runaway and hiding from crime. Because of that, he wasn't afraid to steal- he had done it before. The fight she put up got a bit out of hand. He didn't mean to kill her, just grab the bag she had that he saw her putting valuables and money in before.
Again Austin was reborn. She was born to loving parents on a farm: in the country. She grew up as a simple farm gal. Austin knew how to care for plants, operate machines, shoot a rifle- very well, and tons of other typical farm stuff. Everything was fine until her and her parents had a fight and Austin ran away. Every now and then she has dreams of her parents and old home... but she also has dreams of being royalty, getting robbed, a kingdom, fights and terror, a city. She thought it was weird as she never really thought about any of those things. She expected dreams and nightmares about runaway chickens or mutant beans. Not this.

In her human form I imagine her wearing a black leather belt. One that is very old, a family heirloom even. I also imagine she has something from her past lives, like a comb or something small that she picked up or bought unknowingly.

She has a thing for chips/potato chips. Like she just really loves them and hoards bags of them, almost as if they are plated with gold.

Austin is a pretty spunky girl. She is outgoing and is a partier, but she also enjoys being alone in silence. She loves sleep but frequently finds herself staying up late. Austin takes lots of little naps and enjoys daydreaming. She is very strong; if she can get the job done, she will. If she can't, she'll still! Austin believes you don't have to be good at something to enjoy it. She draws terribly but loves sketching in her free time. She doesn't care if she is bad at being super quiet, as she is usually very loud, but she still likes sneaking up on on others. Austin is definitely a jokester, and will be very sarcastic when she gets the chance. Austin is pretty chill. She has a good temper, and if you insult her she won't get mad. Instead she will easily and smoothly completely burn you with the best insults she can get. When doing this, you won't see her stuttering or being hesitant. If she has an insult she will calmly throw one back without raising her voice even the slightest. If she doesn't she will take it and say "fair enough."

She greatly confused about her past.
Technically the rightful heir to a kingdom

Get a drawing of her eating a leaf maybe? X3

Austin lives in an old abandoned barn. There is a really big bell in the barn, which was stored there in the winter and forgotten. The barn was abandoned after the family who owned the property couldn't afford the farm and left with no trace. No-one used it or checked up on the land, so when Austin came by, looking for a home, she took it and claimed it as hers.

[elliott.]

quick bump <3

[maritime.]

name; Coconut Stronghold
gender; female
gender for breeding purposes; female

favorite phrase: "Willpower" screamed at the top of his lungs as she does a double fist pump
Favorite food: anything healthy
Favorite drink: any sports or healthy drink
Favorite fruit: Coconut
Favorite show: the Olympics (even if it's a replayed recording of any past games)

Where she lives: Coconut currently resides in the unnamed beetle kingdom of the realm of Midgard.

Personality: Coconut is very positive and enthusiastic and almost always has a smile on her face. She is very cheerful and bright and almost never lets anything damper her mood. She's very athletic and enjoys being active and staying fit and healthy. Coco can be very spirited and a bit stubborn but will know when things start to get out of hand.

Occupation:
Coconut is in a ways a trainer and nutritionist, she specializes with athletes and even daredevils or just anyone who wants to be healthy and be fit. She can be strict but sometimes she'll allow a small cheat as long as certain needs haven't been met by the end of the day like calorie intake.

[elliott.]

six days until this ends.

[milo.]

UN: milo. | N: Grant | G: male
GFBP: male
---------------- { (ง'̀-'́)ง } ----------------

"Did it insult you or somethin', kid?"

Grant's maw curls in a slight grin at the familiar tone, brow furrowing though he keeps his eyes narrowed on the punching bag in front of him. Rumlow circles the other quietly in order to observe, his own maw twisting into a lop-sided smirk. Grant was a regular at this boxing studio, same as Rumlow, but the kid always seemed to have a certain drive to him whenever he trained. He wasn't there to fool around, nor was he even really there to let off some steam. He was there to work himself-- train himself for something far more risky than boxing matches. The horned male chances a glance at the other after a few more hard punches to the bag, one paw reaching out to steady the swinging bag so he may lean against it to relax. He takes a moment to catch his breath before reaching out with his free paw to fist bump the other in casual greeting.

"Nah, practicin'." he finally offers, rolling a shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Got a fight comin' up tomorrow night. Gotta be ready for it, 'uh?"

"Got that right." Rumlow replies, crossing his arms and heaving a deep chested sigh. "You're gonna get yourself knocked out, kid."

Grant laughs but considering his last fight, Rumlow had every reason to worry. He'd woken up in the hospital last time, but that hadn't deterred him in the past. Why would it deter him now? Pushing off the bag, the boy stretches out his arms before turning to face it-- he throws a couple decent punches before pausing to stare at the darker male once more. "Look, I got unlucky last time. I have a good feeling 'bout this one."

Rumlow clicks his tongue, eyes rolling and tail tip twitching in annoyance. "It's your funeral, kid."

"I bet you have a great speech written up already about how amazing I am."

The larger male heaves a heavy sigh, but he can't help but to chuckle. Grant was never going to change-- and though he didn't approve of the fighting (mainly because of his recklessness), he would support the young male in any way he could.

------------------------------------------------ { (ง'̀-'́)ง } ------------------------------------------------

Grant and I go way back. And I mean way back. Not anywhere near as far back as Jim and me, but I mean... No one I know goes that far back anyway.

When I first started in with the Underground and getting involved with the fights and all that, Grant was only a viscling. A tiny little thing without a family, just as I had been. The difference between the two of us though — he knew what he wanted. He knew how to function in the real world even at such a vulnerable age, and at first, I admit I was jealous. But, to be honest, I get jealous over a lot of weird things. I just wish I had been more like him when I was a viscling. Strong, capable, "take no crap" attitude. He was a little firecracker, and unsurprisingly, he still is.

I admit I wasn't the strongest guy in the Underground. Not even close. But I knew my way around a fight, and normally just used my smaller stature in order to exhaust my opponents before taking them down, rather than use brute force. Using that strategy, I made my way to the top pretty quickly. But then Grant came along. Yeah, that fiery little viscling I only saw on the surface, making his way through the scummy neighbourhoods. He was there, in the Underground, standing right in front of me with his paws balled into strong fists. I couldn't help but sneer at him, and that only caused him to narrow his eyes as if to say, 'you think this is funny, mate?' Yeah, I thought it was bloody hilarious!

...... 'Til he knocked me on my rear without a moment's hesitation. Man, he didn't stop there either. He was just about the same size as me, if not a little smaller... So my normal strategy wasn't going to work on him. I knew his weak points from watching him grow up, but man! He refused to give me a single opportunity to exploit them! Believe me when I tell you that boy kicked my tail into next year! I was out in less than 15 minutes.. A new record for me. Most viscets would have been angry and bitter about the whole situation, experiencing such 'humiliation' and all that jazz, but instead of waking up angry and plotting revenge, I woke up with a great big smile on my face. No lie! I was sore for a week, but man... I felt pride. He wasn't going to let his smaller stature or questionable health get in the way of his goals, and I totally support him; even if those goals consist only of kicking viscet butt.

Nowadays, we're good pals. We travel the city together, taking in everything it has to offer. He loves learning, so we're basically always reading anything we can get our paws on. He comes over a lot and Sebastian only rolls his eyes and barricades himself in the other room or else we'll be bothering him all day and night with endless chit chatting and ridiculous questions. Admittedly, it's one of our favourite things to do. Grant supports me and I support Grant. Our friendship is strong and unbreakable, and I'm 100% positive he would say the exact same thing about me.

Love ya, bud!

If I'm being forced to do this, I may as well say something positive hm?

As Jeremy mentioned, the first time we saw Grant was when he was just a viscling. Jeremy asked me to take the small fellow in, but I wasn't about to abduct a child thinking he needed somewhere to stay. Looking back, the least I could have done was ask, but even that seemed a little odd. So, I kept my eye on him. Once I was positive he didn't have any family of his own, I started to play a bigger role in his life. Him coming into contact with the Underground wasn't random in the least. I'm sure Jeremy figured that out soon enough, but he never said much about it. I didn't feel the need to tell him; I knew he wouldn't have approved. You see, I run the Underground networks. I set up the fights, and I'm usually the one to rig them.

Grant's situation was very different.

The first time I spoke to him after slipping him anonymous gifts in the form of food and necessities throughout his life, it was behind the scenes and away from prying eyes. I explained how the fights worked and told him exactly what needed to be done in order for him to win. No one had to get hurt since it wasn't a "real" fight. Mind you, most of them were... But I was worried about Grant. He was small, like Jeremy. His health was poor. He wasn't in any shape at all to be fighting. But he refused to go along with the plan. He blabbed on for a while — it basically turned into some speech about honour and being true to himself. Admittedly, I ended up tuning him out halfway through. Not only because I was bored of the tirade, but I started to worry. Once I begin to worry about something, I normally block the subject out. I can't waste any time or thought power by doing something so ridiculous as worrying.

I didn't want to let him go into the ring, but I didn't say anything more on the matter. I didn't even watch the fight. As I said, I couldn't allow myself to worry about the boy, as much as I wanted to. Out of sight out of mind. Once the fight was over, however, a loud wave of cheers and surprised comments filled the dirty makeshift arena, and there was Grant... Paw up and a bright smile of victory spread against his maw. An involuntary smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I approached him with an off-handed apology and an offer.

As you can see, he took the offer. He fights every week and trains every single day. If there's one thing I can say about Grant, he's determined. In everything he does, determination drives him and it's very honestly a beautiful and exhilarating thing to witness. I've yet to meet another with the kind of drive that he has. It nearly pains me to admit such a thing, but perhaps more should strive to be like Grant. If there were more viscets with his attitude and outlook, there would be a lot of positive change in the world. That is something I am absolutely sure of.

Grant has always been a firecracker. Since the day I met the smaller boy, he's done nothing but scrap and fight. I first met him at the boxing club, observing him go at a punching bag like it insulted his mother. His technique was all wrong-- clearly he was new to all this and was just looking for an outlet for his aggression. I watched for a short while before finally approaching him and offering to give him some pointers. He was embarrassed at first, not wanting to accept help from anyone, but after I showed him a few varying techniques, it seemed to click and he was willing to attempt them himself.

He became a rather good boxer after that, and it wasn't until about month or so into our friendship that I found out he was also throwing himself into the fighting rings underground. I wasn't too keen on the idea, knowing he'd been doing so for years (which explained his terrible technique; fight to win, not to show off)-- but after all, it was his life to live and not my own. I'd support him, but I was positive I couldn't just sit back much longer to see him get beaten to a pulp. I told him I would always care about him, but if he was going to continue to try and get himself killed... I couldn't be there any longer. One more fight... and I was gone.

I heard through the grape vine about Grant's next fight. I wasn't thrilled to hear he had completely disregarded my advice about fighting, but I wasn't about to lecture him again. I'd done so once, and it didn't turn out very well. He told me that if he'd wanted a father, he'd go home. The argument had ended abruptly after that, and it took a few days for him to speak with me again, but I promised I'd butt out. The only things that were at risk was our friendship, and most importantly, his life.

I haven't seen Grant in some time now. I hear he's doing well - still occasionally popping in to the boxing club in order to spar with some old friends. I hope, for his sake, that he is doing well. I always thought he had a bright future ahead of him. I hope he's staying true to that.

------------------------------------------------ { (ง'̀-'́)ง } ------------------------------------------------

The roar of the crowd is all he can really hear aside from the blood pumping in his ears. The static rushing and thudding of his heart slowed things down-- the fight was nearly in slow motion, and though Grant used it to his advantage, calculating the right moves and defending himself where necessary, it still wasn't enough to block the blow he hadn't been expecting. It came from the right when Grant had been studying the others left, and it very nearly knocked him off his feet. He stumbles into the ropes, baring his fangs and waving his hand toward the ref to silently request a short time out.

The bell rings to signify a pause, and the other fighter moves to his respective corner to hype himself up with his mentor and drink some water... show off for the crowd and get them more riled up.

Normally, Rumlow was the one to perk Grant up. He'd come through the ropes, lift his chin and tend to his wounds all while talking him up. Motivational speeches were not really Rumlow's forte, but he always knew exactly what to say in order to pick the boy up. Get him focused on the fight again. Mind you... his mentor was nowhere to be found tonight. Rumlow had told him the last time they spoke that he was finished with the underground fights. Boxing was one thing... beating each other into a pulp was entirely another, and he wasn't going to be standing around anymore to watch Grant get put in the hospital again.

Grant was alone in this now - he had nothing and nobody.

Leaning his head back and gulping at his water bottle, the feathers on the back of his neck stand up at the feeling of a nearby presence. He's about to lean forward again to signal that he was fine-- he may as well get it all over and finished with... but an arm around his throat, pulling him back against the pole in the corner of the ring, has him releasing a strangled gasp and startled growl. He's about ready to throw a punch behind him, thinking his opponent is playing dirty all of a sudden, when a chill runs through his spine at the melodic tone at the base of his jaw. "Win, Grant."

Grant turns green eyes on the muzzle near his, only able to see the dark feathers of the others maw, and the tips of sharp ram horns. He pulls in a shaking breath, swallowing thickly. "And if I don't?"

"Then nothing."

"And if I do?"

There's a pause, and Grant turns his head the best he can to see the other speaking to him. An aged Viscet greets him, wise and intelligent eyes locking with his own with such intensity that Grant exhales sharply. Something about him made the fighter feel energized, like he was actually worth something-- like he actually might win this fight. The bell rings once more to alert the fighters their time was up. Grant quirks a brow at the other, awaiting an answer. All he receives is a knowing smile and the older male releases the hold on his neck. "Perhaps you should do as I say, and find out the answer in due time."

The other fighter is already on his feet, riling up the crowd and growling insults at Grant as he pushes himself to his feet and stretches out his arms. He chances a glance back to outside the ring, though the mystery Viscet had vanished. He's beginning to wonder if he's merely hallucinated the whole thing, but when he catches eyes with a beige, camo male in the crowd... the intensity in his stare and his nod of encouragement makes Grant think twice. Maybe good things would come. He approaches the other fighter, catching him off guard with a punch to the back of the head. The fight had started when the bell rang... wasn't Grant's fault the other male was too busy showing off. He falls off balance, spinning around quickly on his toes in order to snarl and lunge at Grant.

The young male dodges the attack, grinning as he catches his second wind. He counters with his own, punching and kicking until his opponent drops like a rag doll, groaning and cursing at Grant under his breath. He cheers excitedly, whooping and jumping on his toes a little when the ref deems him the winner. He catches another set of eyes in the crowd, a floppy eared boy, blue tinted and jumping with excitement himself. He hears his name on the male's tongue, and Grant can't help but let another self-satisfied smirk curve his maw. He remembers that boy, at least. He'd knocked him off his feet before, years before, and Grant couldn't help but throw the other a wink before focusing on the crowd once more.

"Come along," he hears over the crowd, and he flicks his ears back toward the voice. He spies the male from before, eyeing the ram horns and graceful appearance of the older male before he steps out of the ring to stand before him. Grant tilts his head, and the slender male smiles -- it's filled with zero emotion and looks rather forced, but Grant still feels at ease. "You've a new life now, Grant. I promise, you will not be disappointed."

He doesn't look back at the crowd as he leaves - the only chanced glance taken to Jeremy in the stands, a chuckle escaping him.
The beige male from before in the crowds was moving, reaching behind him for Jeremy's scruff. The two began their journey toward the blue-black male and Grant himself. A hum of question is all that escapes the boy before he's throwing a playful punch to Jeremy's shoulder when they're close. "Buddy says I'm not gonna be disappointed with what comes next." Grin. "I definitely won't be if I get to whoop your curly tail again."

The beige, camo male snorts and sidles up next to who Grant assumes is their boss - leaning in and glaring back at Grant quietly.
Jeremy merely spouts off about one thing or another as they leave the arena, throwing hip checks and shoving at the other in play.
It feels... nice. Familiar.

As though he finally has a family to call his own.

{ credit: all art done by james. !!
Jeremy/Jim blurbs written by james. }

[elliott.]

im going to bump the end date to the 26th so more people can submit forms / finish their forms. <3

[cyberdragon725]

MMMMM MARK? I DUNNO?
Res:
Owns a gym
Personal fitness trainer
Often does boxing
Tabitha's little bro?
Often babysits his niece and nephew