River Readopt (Winner!)

[shibeboi]

Mork!

[pilotlight]

Tentative mark

[Zailune]

Just a lil mark ^^

[womp womp]

Username ;; Diamond Sapphire
Name ;; Colton
Gender ;; Male

wipwipwip

[stride]

.

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The year is 1870, and the United States has come out of
a civil war with a booming entertainment industry.
Success is abundant in the Americas, and immigrants are
aplenty. Follow the story of the acrobat who enraptured the
nation, and the aftermath of his fall from the spotlight.
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❝ I'll tell you what,
he's gonna find a
way to put himself
next to all the stars
in the sky. ❞

Konrad Müller Meyer-Schmidt was a German immigrant during the 1860's.
He and his mother moved to America shortly after the war ended to improve
their quality of life & to give Konrad the English education that was essential to success
at the time.

Everyone who passed them on the street marveled at the smiling boy. No clouds
could dampen Konrad's sunshine. He was ready to begin a new life with his mother
and learn everything he could to make his family back home proud.

But shortly after booking a place to stay in the country, Konrad's mother fell
ill with a nasty bout of typhoid and died later that fall. Having no family in the
country, and only a basic understanding of the language, at the age of 16 Konrad ran
away and joined the Traveling Menagerie's band of acts in return for lodging & necessities.
Him, being small and agile for his age, trained under the lead acrobat to replace him when he
retired later that year.

It would not be until 1865 that his act, performed under the pseudonym Big Top,
would blow up.

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❝...Our lead acrobat?
What about him, exactly?
He's the same onstage
as off- always smiling.❞

The Traveling Menagerie reached their peak during a run of shows up the east coast. People
traveled far and wide to come see the peformance- everyone from the lion tamers to even
the campy-natured clowns became celebrities. But only few came close to rivaling
the fame of the main act: the flying trapeze.

The acrobats would put on a dizzing show, diving
and swooping like swans overhead the audience with no net. You could feel the
chill that swept the crowd during every close call. Every move and swing was nothing
but instinct for them, more dancing than falling.

Konrad took it to another level. His falls were always higher, steeper, more exhilarating to
watch. His steady hand and quick thinking always saved the day. And even after the events that
lead him to the circus, audiences noted that he never left the stage without a
quick bow, and an excited grin.

Not everything was peaceful within the group, however. This new-found fame
reportedly led to tensions within the group.
But business was booming & if there was issues,
they didn't show it onstage.

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You are the lead reporter at a local news station. Somehow,
maybe from bribing that greedy ringmaster, or out of sheer luck,
your boss has assigned you the task of interviewing one of the
menagerie's top stars as of late- an acrobat who's stage name
was Big Top. They invited you to interview him in the comfort
of his very own trailer, and even provided a couple tickets for
a few lucky employees of the Gazette to write about their
experience at the show. Not fazed by celebrities anymore,
you hop in your car and hope this guy isn't too annoying to get
along with.

The long line of trailers is a bit underwhelming. Without all
the sparkle and hiss of the crowd, the performers are just...
people. The glamour doesn't extend past the spotlight.
You grumble quietly to yourself, knocking on the door with
the placard of the interviewee's name and regret not forcing
your boss to give you one of the tickets instead. At least then
you wouldn't be stuck listening to an over-glorified gymnast
talk about how he got famous for three hours.

When he opens the door, you're blown away. The kid's ruffling
his hair and smiling sheepishly, apologizing for the mess as he
leads you inside. He barely makes it up to your nose. You're
tempted to ask if you got the right guy, because surely this
pipsqueak isn't the same Big Top who left the entire east coast
in stitches waiting for his act? But the gentle, slightly too formal
English he speaks accompanied by that German accent can only
be from someone unfamiliar with the culture. He's got big,
sleepy eyes and he reminds you of your son at home. You kinda
want to tuck him in & set up a college fund for him. Uh oh.

You make yourself comfortable and begin the interview, asking
a few questions & drinking the watery beverage he provided you.
You don't think the star of the show should be getting such low
quality coffee, but you digress.

You find yourself looking at a framed picture laid face up on the
table you're sitting at. It's in black and white, of course, and
of a mother and son duo, waving at an unseen camera man.

❝And those people are...?❞ You ask quizzically, interrupting
the easy pace you have set. Every good reporter knows that
the best stories spill when the person doesn't have an answer
ready. And by the look in his eye, you think you've hit something
very interesting. He smiles warmly, obviously fond of the story
that picture shows. You can see why they put him center stage-
it's probably got thirty thousand watts behind it.

❝My mutter und vater. I left Papa behind in Germany-
he's the one taking the photo- to pursue better academics
in the States.❞ He points himself out in the photo, before
moving on to address his mother.

❝Mama was a very prideful woman. Heart of a lion,
that one. She wanted me to grow up strong and smart
so she'd have a son to brag about to the ladies back home.❞
He chuckled, but his face soon became serious.

❝She has passed on into a better place now. Her lion heart
gave out from typhoid a few years ago. Never did make it
back to brag about me, did she?❞ He taps his fingers against
the cool table top, frowning for a second. You pause your pen
scribbling notes on your page to look at him for a moment. At
just 16 years old, he'd been left with no one in a country
completely foreign to him.

It occurs to you that you may have judged him a little
too harshly before interviewing him. Yes, he's got all the
people under that circus tent screaming his name every night,
but it must be incredibly lonely up there knowing not a
single one will go home caring about you after that moment.
And yes, meeting celebrities still doesn't phase you, but
you think this kid's less of a star and more of a lost soul
surviving on luck.

But you steel yourself. You can't go soft on him because of
the past- we've all got demons to hide and he's already got
a successful career under his belt. He doesn't need your
sympathy. There is no get out of jail free card from the truth.
That's why you're here.

So you ask him a question that's been
digging at you.

❝Why did you choose to do that...❞ You use your finger to
make a twirling motion in the air, unsure of the word.

Rumor has it that someone's out to get Big Top. A coworker
who finally got fed up with the stolen spotlight. Arguments
being overheard from behind closed doors every night,
castmates who barely hide their rage at each other
during pictures taken after shows.

❝What? Oh! Acrobatics!❞ He smiles again, enthused at the
mere mention of his profession.

You have an idea.

❝Yes! Wouldn't everyone want to be the star of the show? What
was your secret to beating the competition?❞

This question seems to stop him in his tracks. His eyes go wide
and for a moment he stops breathing. you're almost afraid you've
struck him dead.

When he responds, it's carefully worded.

❝I chose it... because it's what I love. And nothing anyone else says
can change that! I will continue doing what I love until every bone in
my body breaks! Understood?❞ He speaks quickly and barely conceals
the emotion in his voice.

You smirk inwardly. You've got this interview in the bag.

❝Everyone's heard that something's off in your circus.
Something's going on between certain people in your "Menagerie"...
Tensions. People getting antsy for the spotlight. Corners are being
cut.❞ You look hard at him for a moment. ❝Don't act like you have no
clue what I'm talking about.❞

❝I really don't-❞ he starts, but you cut him off to finish.

❝Look... we both know something shady is going on under that tent
every night. You guys might be able to hold it together for now but
what's gonna happen when it all stops working? Or better yet, when
you all get booted out of the headlines by the next big thing? You
think you're gonna live in luxury forever? Let me lay this out for you:
big headline equals big payoff for the person who lets the cat out.
You could get out of this place, get a REAL education, maybe have
a wife and some kids. You don't have to sit here and wait for your
paycheck to dwindle or your body to give out beneath you.❞ You turn
your head to address the picture of his smiling mom.

❝And isn't that what Mama would have wanted?❞

Checkmate.

When you turn your head back to him he's got a dreamy, faraway
look in his eye. Something dark has replaced the child-like sparkle
in it. You realize you might have made a mistake.

He gasps. ❝I... I..❞

❝Excuse me?❞ You barely caught the whisper.

In a blink of the eye, he's back to his showcase facade. He's pushing
you out of the trailer, thanking you for the interview, but firmly
stating he has nothing else left to say. His thousand - watt smile is a
little crazed, and his eyes glare at you from behind blinds, watching
you get into your car.

Some people just don't want to be saved.

And when you read about the fall
and how he missed that swinging bar
by inches..
centimeters....
just a hair's breadth.
No safety net to catch him?
You're not really all that suprised.

Because, really,
some people just don't want to be saved.
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❝ When we got there,
in our big red
ambulance,
we though for sure
he was dead. ❞

Konrad was rushed to the nearby Bellevue Hospital immediately after the
fall. Among many injuries sustained he suffered from a cracked pelvic
bone, three broken ribs, and a fractured fibula, although many would say
he was simply lucky to have survived.

Witnesses to the event recalling seeing him tumble in an attempt to righten
himself as he fell. Few would forget the face of the terrified acrobat as he
realized what the impact from that height would entail.

Police investgated a few key suspects for foul play within the company.
The resident contortionist admitted to have issues with Konrad before going
on stage occasionally, but was released without charge due to lack of evidence.
The ringmaster, however, recieved handsome fines for the apparent lack of
safety procedures and accident provention in training.

But what happened to Big Top?

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Your name was Konrad and you felt like
all the happiness had been sucked out of
your life in one fell swoop.

It'd been a few months since your accident.
Your ribs were still knitted shut in a delicate
patchwork of stitches and metal that kept
you from splitting quite literally down the
middle.

You spent your days curled up on the couch,
watching the news mostly, while lights of
every color flashed through the front blinds
of your home. Cameramen from local stations
were trying to get a glimpse of the broken and
battered Big Top.

Sometimes they'd even switch it up and attack
from the windows out back.

And as you crawled around your home in a dazed
sort of haze, one question plagued you. Why wouldn't
they let you die in peace?

It was a scary thought, but really, the person you'd
built yourself up to be was nothing but the smoke
and mirror trick the stage let you live. You were less
a person and more a product.

Wasn't losing all that truly a death?

You did nothing but mope until that letter came in
the mail.

As winter had come to the town you lived in, the news
stations slowly retreated off your lawn and chased the
next big thing. You bundled up for the brief moment it
would take to leave your house and check the mailbox.

Battling your way through the snow, you had blindly
groped the letters stacked in it before sprinting towards
the warmth of your home.

You'd shuttered, minding the flurries that had stuck to
you, making sure they didn't puddle near your door.
Sorting through magazine subscriptions you'd left long
forgotten, and the complaint from the lady next door
about the classical music you played sometimes at
midnight to try and give your life some of the color it
was lacking, you eventually stumbled across a rough
looking letter with just the name "Konrad" printed in
crude lettering on the front.

Suffice to say, you were intrigued.

It read so:

❝Hello Konrad, my shatzi,

This letter comes all the way from
your motherland. I hope you remember
your dear old father. I'm having your sister
pen the note because her English is a bit
better than mine.

I am so incredibly proud of you. The ladies
next door always call through the door as
they pass, speaking about what a wonderful
life you've made in America. You should see
them, always pecking around like chickens,
asking about how me and your mother raised
such a talented boy like you. I laugh at them!
They should know it was all your doing.

Son, I know times may seem dark now, but that
big blazing heart of yours will guide you on the
right path. Everything always seems very very
dark before something lights that candle. I know
since your mother's passing, I try and wake up
every single morning to greet the sun as I would
have greeted her with a morning cup of coffee.

You will go far. I wouldn't believe anything but.
Here is my advice:
Turn your feet towards what you desire, and your body
will follow soon.

We're all rooting for you back home!

With all my love,
your father.❞

You clutch the letter to your chest and barely
register dropping to your knees in the middle
of the living room. Thick tears rolled down your
face, threatening to blot and smudge the paper.
How could you have been so selfish? How could
you have given up on life? Your own mother had
died to get you here- and you wanted to spend it
wishing you'd grown up as a farmer back in Germany?

That letter ignited a spark in you that made your
bones buzz with an energy you hadn't felt in a
while. It almost felt like magic- the worry lines that
lined your face seemed to disappear as you
reanimated yourself. You knew what you wanted
to do.

So as spring rolled in and you left your house more
often to visit friends and to take strolls in that lovely
little park a few blocks from your home, you decided
to visit your good friend Laney. You had some paperwork
to sign and were going to be out anyway, plus you had
a surprise to show her.

You rolled up in your little yellow buggy and honked
the horn a few times to draw her to the door. She
smiled, waving you through the entry and sitting you
down in her comfy kitchen as she prepared the meal to
stick in the oven while you chatted. The air was spicy
and warm, and you were almost giddy with cheer.

❝Konrad, how did you get this through the door? It must
weigh ten thousand pounds.❞ She quizzed, poking the
thick briefcase you'd brought inside with you.

❝I'll probably be the same weight after you get that casserole
out of the oven!❞ You teased, gently propping it up before
opening it. You held the creamy white papers behind your back,
prompting her to chase you through the house to satiate her
curiosity of the "surprise" you'd brought today.

When she snatched the papers from behind your back, you'd
relented, preferring to watch her face as she mouthed along to
what she was reading on the paper.

❝-hereby submit my charter to open a school for alienated children
in order to provide better, more suitable learning conditions-
Konrad!❞ She wailed, pulling you into a tight bear hug that ached
in that forgotten space between your ribs. You smiled and spun her
around, both of you too happy to speak.

You were heading out to submit paperwork to the county in order to
open a school for immigrant children like you, who needed a teacher
in their life to help them adjust to a whole new life.

You'd like to think you'd still have turned out the same if you'd
never joined that circus.

Sure, some people don't want to be saved.
But that's because they know they can save themselves.


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*excited screaming*

i've had this edit tab open in my browser for a little over two weeks now and have
lost this form about three times completely. but, we are finally done!! woo!!
this is very text heavy, but i wanted to portray the story in a newspaper-like format
which i hope translated well in the slightest?

my goal was to create a character that was personal to me, so i went with the idea
of a circus performer getting his spotlight taken from him and ran with it. the concept
allured me greatly, and i hope you can tell how excited i was to write this all up haha!!

to connect Konrad to a larger universe, i threw in a laney cameo at the end. i felt that
having him interact with someone not out to get him would allow some of the warmth
in his character to shine through a bit better.

anyway, this was really really fun to write. i feel like i've grown from it, and i hope you
enjoyed reading about konrad as much as i liked giving life to him. good luck to all the
the other contestants for River, he's a beautiful kal, but it's time for me to go to bed :p

[redhorizon]

Username: Bailey-Boo
Name: Bailey Meredith Frederick
Gender: Male
Go crazy!

Hi, my name is Bailey Frederick. I have a middle name, but I don't like it so I won't tell you. I'm in 10th grade, I don't like high school very much. Everyone teases me, but I can never figure out why. They ask me questions about turtles, I love turtles, and I answer them. Then they all laugh. Maybe it has to do with my autism. I'm not sure, maybe I just say funny things.

Bailey is very literal, he doesn't understand jokes or metaphors. He struggles with autism, something he doesn't really understand. He hates loud noises, he carries headphones around for when it gets too loud. He also hates soft touches. He's very talkative and wide open, he never lies. He was diagnosed with autism when he was six, though he didn't understand what it meant at the time. He hates change, he can't stand new things. He paces a lot, he even made his own designated "pacing spot." He hates writing, the feel of the pencil in his hand is very bothersome to him. He prefers to type, so he has his own laptop he takes to school for note taking and homework. He also hates music, it appears chaotic to him. He prefers order, easily organized things, and music isn't organized to him.

He loves to clean, his house is spotless and he cleans it every day. He has several charts and lists that help him with that. He also dislikes reading, it is hard to focus on the disorganized mess of words.

Res

[SilentMelody]

username: silentmelody
name: brooke (meaning "near the small stream")
gender: transfemale (not yet transitioned; pre-surgery)

brooke has never been accepted for who she is. her mother died when she was three from a car accident, and since then she's lived with her father in utah. brooke's father is very sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, and discriminatory. when she was born, her father was happy to have a son and disappointed when that son grew up liking "girly" things. at age fifteen, brooke came out to him as female and dyed her hair pink as a statement, but this only resulted in her getting kicked out of her home.

at that point, she started to deal heavily with depression and dysphoria. throughout the years, her life literally hung by a thread; she only got by through searching for scraps in the dumpsters and help from strangers. at sixteen years old, brooke decided she needed to make a new change for her life if she wanted to be happier. she travelled down highways and dirt roads until she finally came to california with only the bare necessities.

luckily for her, california is where her mother was born and raised. there she found her mother's sister, aunt molly. brooke knew that aunt molly would take her in because of her charisma and kindess -- also the fact that aunt molly was married to a woman named jenny. in a way, the two became brooke's mothers and supported her no matter what.

at seventeen years old, her aunt molly got very sick and was diagnosed with cancer. this inspired brook enough to get a job at a surf shop by the beach, which is only run by the manager and a few other employees. there she was able to earn a good pay and help her aunts pay the bills for the house. at the same time, she gets free surf lessons from one of her fellow employees named grace -- who is also fairly cute, too.

unfortunately, a year later aunt molly died and brooke was left with an aunt jenny who was consumed by grief. from that moment on, it was up to brooke to take care of her and try to make her happy again. she started working harder at her job -- working longer shifts and more hours. she always makes enough money to pay for the house bills and food, but she's never been able to have enough left over to save up for surgery or hormones. although, brooke one day hopes to get surgery and hormones.

[22tabby]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Go crazy!

[christine,]

~~~

[G1 Sunstreaker]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Go crazy!


mmm mark perhaps <3