[NightFlame22]

x


Round 1 | 200/200 words

Rhythmic clapping. A guitar melody. Fans swishing open and closed. Spotlights shining down on an empty stage. This was what Sofia lived for.

Sofía López García was a middle-aged kalon who had grown up in the heart of Spain. All her life, she’d dreamed of dancing the flamenco, a passionate art form that had been around for over two centuries. When she was 16, she enrolled in an academy that focused on flamenco moderno, a highly technical style that emphasises fast footwork and absolute precision. It would take her twenty years of study to truly perfect the techniques. During this time, she practiced day and night, pushing herself to her limits to make sure each stamping footstep, each motion of her fan, and each swish of her dress was absolutely perfect. Not everyone could master the dance, but she was determined to get it right.

The years of diligence helped Sofia grow into a proud, confident kalon who was not afraid to speak her mind. She had no doubt in herself - she couldn’t afford it, as anxiety only took away from her focus. With passion like a burning flame, she knew she could do anything she set her mind to.

[petrify]

username: petrify
prompt:
[199/200 words]

he watched from the corner as cries erupted into the room, and a baby was born. he couldn't be seen, as he was simply a demon with no physical form in the mortal realm. yet, anyway. he moved towards the new parents, taking a look at his mortal's small frame, and then at the child's father, who had promised his first born to him. walking towards him, he leaned into his ear. "a promise is a promise," he whispered, referring to the father promising his first born to him. he watched as the hair on his neck stood up, turning quickly and looking frightened. stepping forward, the demon latched his hand around the baby's small wrist, the baby letting out a screech as a burn came to his skin. this was only the beginning.

-

the now sixteen year old boy's mind was fighting for control of his body, but the demon disregarded his fighting. "you will not win," his voice was deep and almost static like, unlike the boy's real voice; rather, the demon was speaking. "we're going to do things my way", he growled, and suddenly, he was in full control again, and a wicked smile surfaced.

[76heart]

━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━
sandrine - defender of man ● she/her
━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━
76heart ● round one ● 203 words
━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━

She was alone in the crumbling temple, each limping step echoing against walls of grey stone, and her voice ringing out as it finally greeted the air around her.

❝ i once was a proud warrior, one who was tried and true
i could dance expertly with a blade, but then one fateful day i was forced to pay my dues ❞

"I have travled far, from the desert sands to the mountains of snow,"

❝ i grew too confident in my skills, and my hind leg was broken upon the battlefield, never to properly mend
and to my days of fighting for my people and what i feel is right, it forced an end ❞

After the words left her, the only sound that could be heard throughout the silent temple was an echo of her pained, sharp gasp as she fell to the floor to raise her paws in prayer.

❝ i used to fight as fluidly as water, but now the best i can do is stumble and totter
and hope and pray that the gods will lend me their power ❞

"and my gods, I ask that you cast your light upon me, so that I may fight again."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

gif made by me, please don't use without asking!

[Namida_☾]

❤ Round 1 ❤ Namida_☾ ❤ Diana ❤ 153/200 ❤

Now she stood there. On the other side of the street. It has been almost 10 years since she was in this house. She swallowed the lump in her throat, took another deep breath and walked over. Carefully her paw glided over the golden doorknob. When she opened the door, a thousand memories came back to her mind. Slowly she strode through the great halls of her old home. No matter where she looked, she thought of her mother. About the careless time. Her eyes filled with tears and she went up to her room. In the corner stood a basket of old, dried roses braided by her mother. She thought about how similar she was to her mother. She also loved making and giving rose bouquets. Often, others also told her that she is as happy as her mother was. Just as loving, caring, self-sacrificing and always there to make others happy. And, although all were there for her after her mother's death, she felt lonely.

[insidious.wizard]

Round 1 - 194/200 words

Layla Nova Lanton

Layla was alone, but it was by choice. The chatter of others, the sounds they made when breathing, it hurt her ears. It was always too loud, too sudden, unlike the sound of the forest. Here there was the rustle of leaves joined with the same breeze in her fur. And here was her favorite place. The roar of the waterfall, the way it's constant drone drowned out other sounds. Above all, her favorite thing was the cool mist that sprayed through the air as the water crashed down onto the river.
She used to come her with her father when she was young. His voice was soft like pine needles on the ground. Her mother's....was like pebbles dropped on metal sheets. Not that she didn't love her mother, she just hated her voice.
Layla never had any siblings. While it was never explicitly stated, she knew she was a hassle for her parents to raise. Between childhood meltdown and constant wandering to find secluded, quiet spaces, she caused her parents her fair share of grief. They love her, of course. More than anything in the world. She was just....hard to handle.

[whim]

x

╔══════╗

║
║
║
║
║

【 round 1 】
▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰
username: whim
name: Astrid
gender: female
▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰
【 191 words 】

║
║
║
║
║
╚══════╝

x
She stood upon the destruction that had ensued. Grand buildings that once stood proudly were now nothing but debris under her feet, the sky grey with ashes above her. Her faithful sword lay next to her tattered and tainted with defeat.
▰ ▰ ▰
"Do you, Astrid, take this responsibility of wiedling this sword to protect and defend our land from the darkness that may appear?"
She knew she didn't have any other choice but to give a weary "I do."
Her breath was uneven as the queen blessed her with the sword. Astrid never asked for this. She was merely just a knight and that was only what she ever wanted to be. How was she the one chosen for this task, out of all the others more worthy than her? It was a distracting thought but she must brush it away. It didn't matter. She must fight. Everyone depended on her now.
▰ ▰ ▰
A crystal tear fell silently down her cheek, landing delicately onto the lone flower that stood in the field of what once used to be chaos and fear. Gently, she placed her paws under the brilliant golden petals.
"I'm sorry."

[idyll]

He was named for a firebrand.


Never before had a name been so faultlessly bestowed.
He was born with his teeth bared and his fur on end,
and his mother wished for that fighting spirit to remain.
She named him for the fire that danced between the stars,
like the sky itself was brandishing a sword.
She named him for the fiery frigid sting of the snow,
which was the first thing his paws touched and the first thing his claws pierced.
She named him for the dancing flame of his first breath,
stark against the frozen air and the inky, moonless night.

It was as if she knew he would someday brandish the sword in hopeless ambition,
someday bite with the fire of the frozen ground,
someday hiss that same hot breath in the face of his conquered,
his own face frozen in a victorious sneer
as the stark white fire steamed between his teeth
in that same frigid air.
His name foretold his pride,
his fiery spirit,
the storm that sat rumbling in his chest,
ready to strike.

He was born a firebrand.


And he was raised a viking.

~~~

username: idyll || round 1 || 191 words

[Softea]

round 1

|| Yaegar ||
|| Male ||
|| 24 ||

" He sobbed quietly.

No one will ever hear him.

He will not let anyone listen to
his weak and misspoken cries.

He had no right to cry.

After he himself caused so much pain. "

" Yaegar was always quiet, never wanting to speak
out of turn.
He will never speak,
and he will never listen.

words will forever be dismissed
by his sunken heart.

but what was he to do now? He was blamed
for the demise of his town. The flame that
caused the town to crumble and turn to ash
before him.


everlasting sadness washed over him, the nightmare
never seeming to fully end.


He couldn't do anything to fix his mistake. He caused
destruction and sadness wherever he went. His own
mother cast him out as a danger to their kind.


No one loved him,
and no one cared. "

[Mozzy.]

┌──────────‡•‡──────────┐
Round One

Amisia
mature, insightful and loyal friend
Nahima
free of emotional & mental disturbance
Female
...
└──────────‡•‡──────────┘

───────────────────────────────────────────────‡•‡───────────────────────────────────────────────

She walked into sadness, drowning the walls around her. She
could feel the torment of generations; children screaming,
mothers weeping. She placed a delicate hand on the door
handle, and was overrun by emotion. Jerking back, she
looked up to her companion with a most concerned expression
on her face.
Why do they cry?
That's what you're here to figure out, Miss.

‡•‡

She placed the golden china back on the table, and picked
up the leather bound journal. Carefully opening its ancient
pages, she wrote today's experiences. She was astounded by
the sheer amount of pain hidden in that house, not many things
moved her but knowing what caused this pain made her tremble.
As she'd walked through the house she knew that evil was within,
and it needed to be purged for a happier universe. She used her
most powerful spells and sage rituals and still she couldn't help.
For the first time in her life she'd failed to bring peace. She
desperately wanted to go back but couldn't face that torment again.
Cupping her head in her hands, a gentle purr came from aside her.
Tears rolling, she smiled at the calico cat.
Thank you for understanding me.

───────────────────────────────────────────────‡•‡───────────────────────────────────────────────

[sodafarts]

round 1

变化 (biànhuà - "change")

{ me? well, arrogant is an understatement. and i don't particularly care. why should i?
hah! don't look so condescending, for you would be too if you came from such noble status and all your life the only compliments you received had to do with your physical appearance, led to believe it's your sole value.
otherwise, there isn't much to give compliment to. i've never been told that i'm kind or generous, i'm not skilled at anything, and never been anything other than ornery and stuck up. gradually this turned from aloof arrogance, to a violent need for power. not sure why.....i just... feel like it, i suppose.
maybe it stems from boredom as well. in order to protect this beautiful appearance you have to give up a lot of other things, things most people take for granted.
i didn't even know how much i've really given up until recently, when they attempted invasion.
tried, but failed, for the most part. all they got away with was me.
and i doubt anyone wants me back. }

{ for i am a rose, but mostly i am thorns.
i don't think i am happy.
but change is here. }