Kalon Mass Readopt

[captain dude]

I’ll probably do this in waves since the forms and official stuff are all a bit taxing but here is the first round of Kalon readoptions. No form or formal prompt; just tell me what you plan to do with them. I’ll be giving out my items as well. These were some of the more popular ones. You can enter for and win more than one.


#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

#8

#9

#10

Ends on 2/25. Have fun; good luck.

[Black_saphire]

i would absolutely love #8 !!
they are super pretty, and look very fun to draw :3
the colour scheme is so me, and would fit right into my characters, if they go to me i promise they will be very loved!!

i would also love #7!
the colours and design are so amazing omg.
it would be super cool to experiment with drawing it!! again, i use all of my characters a bunch. so i can guarantee lots of love <3

[Aeryn]

ᴛʀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ #7 ── .✦
Mizuki “The Dragon Divinator” ｡𖦹°‧

✦ This AU is set on a fantasy setting, of which the era of humanity and magic has recently arrived.
✦ Mizuki was born in a very influential family inside the divination guild, one of, if not the most respectable amongst the 5 guilds. With it’s members being responsible for practicing and maintaining the arts of divination for generations to come, with the arrival of magic to human society, divination has found itself a match for life, for it only expands their horizons and potential. Most members inside the divination guild are known for following the path of mages thus improving their connection to magic, coming closer to enhancing their divine visions.

✦ Families like Mizuki’s have been great contributors to the guild knowledge of magic and its practices, so naturally, being born in such a prestige family, Mizuki was expected to follow suit, her future had already been planned out for her, despite a scandalous rumor circling within the guild about her troublesome connection with the divinations arts. Her family however, still kept a optimistic look and had hopes she'd eventually overcome her troubles.

✦ Despite her family's continuous line of great mages, Mizuki herself had a poor connection with magic, and her divination would only allow her to witness 10 seconds within the future at max. What would 10 seconds be compared to those who could prevent calamities centuries to come? Despite her misfortune, Mizuko would still be the owner of a kind and gentle soul, she'd grow to care about her family and its reputation inside the guild, only wishing for good prospects and a promising future.

✦ Truth is, most mages, if not all within the divination arts seek to perfect a long term vision, granting a clear vision of a long future yet to come, causing most to struggle instead with shorter future visions, of which were instead looked down, for they were considered much less relevant.

✦ An unexpected encounter with Cupid, the head of the Magister and the greatest divination warlock of their era, would offer Mizuki a new perspective on her otherwise unfortunate situation. "Unique circumstances creates unique individuals." As the era of human magic consolidates itself, Cupid confessed to have encountered a growing number of unimpressive mages, especially inside the divination guild, to which makes the older style of combat with swords much more interesting for once. Combat with swords.. Something that was not particularly big with the divination guild, not unheard of, of course, but much more present on the remaining guilds of whom weren't as connected with magic.

✦ It was then when Mizuki started to look more into these other fields, still young to learn, she had found great interest in combat, the way their movements would flow like water, to be honest, it seemed far more interesting and appealing than the a future she was not sure herself she would ever achieve with magic. However, for that sake of her family, these interests would have to be put aside eventually.

✦ When the greatest calamity struck their once peaceful realm, caused by the anger of the gods of whom had been offended by sinners who had nothing to do with her, nor her family. The divination guild alongside the Merchant guild would come to witness it's downfall, being the ones most affected by a spreading illness to the mind, and evil doing spirits that claimed the land for their own. How had they not foreseen this? How could this not be prevented? We're the will of the gods this unpredictable and omnipotent? Not much was rest of her guild, nor her family. The divination guild would almost come to its complete and disastrous end, and never in her life has Mizuki felt so powerless.

✦ With almost no mages left to the defend the guild, certainly it would only be a matter of time before everyone within it meet their ends. The great families were gone, the other guilds fending their own unable to help. Only one mage of a great family remained, one of which could only see the very near future at only 10 seconds, but inside a combat of swords, only 10 seconds were needed to guarantee victory. Still inexperienced with a sword, Mizuki miraculously and ceaselessly fought to defend her home. With a gentle, yet now grieving soul, she alone defended the guild on its darkest days.

✦ As a short period of calmness would come, Mizuki worked tirelessly on improving her skills with the sword, in most combats she'd come to face, her considered to be misfortuned vision revealed to her every one of her opponents moves, a combat with Mizuki is lost before it even begins. And for all the years to come, she'd grow stronger and wiser, fending her guild from all the evils that surrounded it, and all those who would wish harm upon them. A once sorry excuse for a mage would instead turn into a living legend, The Divination Dragon as most would call is said to have never lost a combat! The dragon protects the guild, and has promised: "For as long as i live, no calamity shall ever strikes us again." This future she could not tell, but she was certain of it regardless.

✦ I think she’d fit perfectly into this world, with all the guilds i really wanted to make this world full of life, to make it feels like it’s lived in, specially with folk tales and stories of legends, this kalon gives me insane dragon legend vibes and i thought it’d just be extremely cool if she were to be a legend of the past that would only make her guild’s culture all the more rich and unique. she gives me the feels of someone who’s important and extremely kind!! i’d really like to work with that in mind for her!

[elyx]

✧xeight

• i think she would fit in great with some of my kals! i think she'd end up living in the magic forest, with a library!
  
• she'd definitely be into potions and space (astrology and maybe also tarot!!) and would enjoy being a role model for the kits around
• wants to learn more about the stars so visits nearby kingdom to study, forming new bonds between kingdom and witches
• aside from individual character development, i have been getting back into kals and working on developing everyone on my toyhouse, and thinking up some worldbuilding !! i've been doodling (traditionally) so much again lately too, and eagerly awaiting the end of this semester so i can devote more time to digital art !!
• thank you for the opportunity !! <3

[duskze]

entering for beautiful #9!!

I want them to be best best friends with my girl Aki! I think with their winter vibes and Aki's autumn vibes they would be super close<33 Aki is Autumn in Japanese, so for this bean I'd name them Fuyu, for Winter. They would be inseparable; collecting wild herbs together, making tarot cards together, decorating their cute little witch cottage together, where they can live and happily research nature until it's time to go on an adventure! Aki is pretty spontaneous and bold, so Fuyu would be her buffer, a more grounded and calm kalon with a softer disposition that takes a cautious approach to new experiences. They'll share a passion for myths, legends, curiosities, and have an insatiable urge to explore and discover them all! Whether it's rare plants, magical gemstones, healing wellsprings, eldritch creatures, ancient rituals, or lucky talismans, they'll be researching, exploring, and protecting them all. They want to see these incredible wonders of nature kept safe above all, and in the case of any that have been snatched from their natural home, they'll be working overtime to get them back to where they belong. Then in their downtime after a big adventure they'll work on healing remedies, magical research, and making delicious snacks for their friends and all the forest critters around their home. <33 (they may eventually be more than friends... :eyes: but only time will tell.) They'll also be great friends with my boy Coop! =DD (rhymes with soup haha) He's the softest guy and will love hanging out with Fuyu 'cause they're so chill. They'll probably share a love of poetry and some more laid-back repetitive tasks, like sewing and woodworking, that tend to exasperate the very hyper Aki. Fuyu would find a forever home with their best friends in their cozy cottage with me. <33 thank you so much for the chance!

Adding some facts about her since there was an extension =DD


❁ is passionate about needlework because she learned it from her family.

❁ has tried to learn folk dancing from Aki but she isnt very fast and has three left paws. shes better at the slow dances.

❁ grew up without technology so she's usually very confused about it and asks lots of questions.

❁ is an expert at shadow work and helping people recover from bad experiences.

❁ finds that a simple solution is often the best. she tries not to overcomplicate things.

❁ loves to grow succulents and will talk about them for hours. Not just facts, but also the personalities of her collection and the things they like. (Albert the Aloe? He loves podcasts, but does not like cats. Eve the Echeveria? She loves watching soaps and disagrees with Albert wholeheartedly about cats. The two argue constantly.)

Also entering for gorgeous #10!

They look like such a precious astronomer, I'd love to name them Calliope and have them be best friends with my guy Grimsby! Grimsby is a little bit of a ghoul to be honest, but he loves tarot cards, suspicious magicks, ghosts, and things like that. Calliope would be a bit more... scientific and factual with her research, but I absolutely see these two coming to each other for advice! Grimsby would love advice on star charts and history when he's working on his tarot, or trying to contain bad magics and spirits. And any time Calliope comes across something science can't quite answer, she would go to Grimsby for help! They would end up in quite a few conundrums and dangerous situations I'm sure. All the while Calliope exclaiming that she doesn't believe in ghosts, while Grimsby has to protect her with wards because she got too curious about ancient sky charts and dived into some ruins without checking if they were haunted first. Normal best buddy adventures. <33 I'm almost positive I'd end up pairing them together for some kiddos because her markings are stunning and I think blue and orange kiddos would look incredible! =DD aaaaa they would be so cute together!! I'm already super excited at the idea of writing tons of prompts, both for 9 and 10. they're amazing!!
thank you so much for reading, I hope you're having a wonderful day!! =D


some facts for her too!

✵ has a pet rock named Henry, after Henrietta Swan Leavitt, one of her favorite astronomers. Henry is a blue Cordierite.

✵ has made her own telescope and it extremely proud of it. it took her ages to smooth the mirror correctly. it's not as good as buying something from a shop, but she keeps it in her room anyway. the outside is decorated with glowing stickers.

✵ loves drinking tea. will drink way too many cups when she's up all night studying the sky. can't stand coffee though, it's too strong, she says.

✵ her comfort food is alphabet soup. she's extremely embarrassed by this and tries to keep it a secret. There are soup cans hidden around her house.

✵ she had a stutter when she was younger and it can creep out again if she's been startled, scared, or gotten incredibly angry.

✵ she likes sketching and doodling insects. especially lady bugs. she frequently leaves sticky notes and notepads everywhere with adorable art on them.

(I would've written more but I didn't see the extension until today, I'm so sorry I didn't notice!! good luck everyone!!)

[Exitium]

#5 - Ferrier of the dead and follower of Rain, Ruler of the Lantern Sea. (One of my kits I plan on getting grown eventually <33)

Devoted to the God and Goddess of the Underworld and those who work alongside them. Respects the underlings the most besides the deities, over those who have passed to the other side. (Although some souls stick out, it's rare for them to go out of their way to comfort the souls being ferried more than normal)

Tarot card reader in their spare time. Visits the Lantern Sea to spend time with Rain whenever they're not working as well (every couple of years that is, seeing as ferrying souls is very taxing work.)

Enjoys scents such as vanilla and honey creme. Favorite color is Bottle Green. Favorite genre of music is bardcore music (shocking, I know.) Favorite foods consist of berries, honey, and pomegranate. Favorite drinks are strawberry watermelon and good old fashioned milk. When not dressed in ferrier attire (what is known as "Grim reaper" attire), they like dressing down in comfortable colorless or monochrome clothes/accessories. Their name is Whisper.

#3 - Leader of the Druids of Marsch. Hostile towards nearby kalon tribes to a fault. Allied with the High Elves for over three thousand years through previous leaders of the Druids of Marsch. Strong archer and berry gatherer. They live off the land and all it gives them, even if that means taking down critters (with prayers over their food and materials for clothes.)

Believes that only kits should waste time having favorite things, but if they had to explain what they thought of things when they were a young kit, it would be as follows: favorite color is a shade of rich honey, favorite scent is fresh rain in the air and on the ground, favorite music is folk music, and favorite food and drink are lilypads and nectar water.

Has a heart beneath their cold exterior, shown only to those closest to them (their apprentice and tribe people specifically.) Their name is Brutus.


#10 - Follower of Achilles and Atlas, the Guardians of a lost kingdom (each). Basically their apprentice now that they live together in Scaleglade after experiencing so much tragedy together.
Would be in the same universe as the one I share with aventurine. as well.

Despite being much much younger than their immortal mentors, this kalon has shown their talents and abilities time and time again through tests and field experience. Despite being in a "time of peace" compared to the war periods experienced by Achilles, Atlas, Regia, and Ilex (Regia and Ilex are aventurine.'s), they are being trained to be a fellow Guardian and soldier to protect Scaleglade.

Their favorite color is a deep shade called midnight blue. Their favorite scent is that of a Calla lily or a Lotus (they're indecisive on this.) Favorite music genre has to be whatever that new wave of music is (rock music) in Scaleglade. Oh. Favorite food and drink? Well that'd have to be...raspberry and fish, along with good old lemonade. Clothes aren't that important to them, but they do take good care of their weapons and the necklace gifted to them by their mentors. Their name is Alister.

Despite being trained for protection in the event of war, Alister favors the fine arts. In their spare time, they partake in creating masterpieces that high elders hang in their homes. Sculptures of loved ones are made with attention to every single detail, displayed in courtyards of homes for families to reminisce. They belonged to the kingdom of Honeyglade, a recently fallen kingdom in terms of history.

The kingdom of Honeyglade was once a prosperous kingdom, which fell to ruin due to famine. Its people either fled the kingdom, or passed away due to refusing to leave the rotting kingdom land. Honeyglade was the successor to the fallen kingdoms of Soulhaven (Achilles' kingdom) and Riversticks (Atlas' kingdom). The descendants of Honeyglade's people have mostly existed in the kingdom of Scaleglade after the collapse.

Alister has a soulmate they have yet to meet, bonded by a red string of fate. Whether or not they are platonic or romantic soulmates remains to be seen.

Alister also has a pet bird named Kiki (a Charmony Dove), who they love very much. They've been together for many years, meeting one day outside Scaleglade. Kiki had fallen from a great height, a broken wing preventing a graceful flight. They caught her in their paws, and have been inseparable ever since.

#2 - Leader of the Rebellion. It's the year 2172, and on Planet XVI, riots have broken out everywhere. As the current leader on the side against endless suffering and famine (which is completely preventable, with the royalty hoarding all the crops the "peasants" produce), Anarchy seeks to end this injustice through whatever means necessary. They would never stoop to the level of the royals, but they encourage rioting in the streets and other means of protecting their livelihoods. Once just a young kit, Anarchy grew up knowing what it meant to lose everything as soon as they were aware of the world. Practically raising themselves on the dirty streets, Anarchy became cold and ruthless when it came to judging the actions of those with power. After all, how were they meant to survive when the rich got richer, and the poor got poorer and faded away?

Anarchy has a heart of gold deep down, but their cold exterior would suggest otherwise. This is to protect their heart from unnecessary heartbreak. They mentor a young kit or two from time to time, trying to give the "street rats" the life they never got to have. A life of acknowledgement and love, of shelter and protection.

Favorite color is silver. Favorite scent is grass. Favorite flower is Bleeding Hearts. Favorite drink is beet punch. Favorite food is bread. Once wanted to learn how to play the flute, but their dreams were crushed when they were orphaned as soon as they were aware of the real world and its cruelty. Still holds a candle for music on the streets, casting what little they can give away to fellow kalons playing as they pass by.

#6 - Part of the fairy circus. It isn't visible what supernatural creature their genetics entail, but this kalon is welcome nonetheless. They're the apprentice face painter to Echo. Favorite color is merlot red. Favorite scent is strawberry. Favorite flower is Tulip. Favorite food is ice cream cake. Favorite drink is lavender milk.

[sheepsorrel]

entering for #5 and #7!

i unfortunately am not really capable of treating this like an impress me, but i hope you can get an idea of my plans from this! :)

overview
so, i've got an idea for these two that i think would be really cool! my kalon lore is sort of adjacent to star trek -- that is, different sentient beings are spread throughout the universe, but a good portion of them essentially look like "kalons in makeup." rather than being due to budget limitations, this is because the "Original" kalon race spread itself across the stars millennia ago and then lost contact between the planets it had colonized.

anye is the final vestige of this Original kalon culture, an immortal guardian of the ancestral kalon homeworld. she resides in a shrine -- in fact the only structure on her planet that retains its function, overlooking the long-abandoned cities of her arid planet.

adding #5 and #7 into the mix... anye's design is very "air" heavy, what with her cloud shine and wind-lookin' markings. with #5's earth/plant theme and #7's water theme, i think a trifecta could come into play! perhaps there are even other guardians dead or lost to time, like a flame or thunder guardian 🤔

the idea is, then: some sort of magic (or technology sufficiently advanced to seem like magic) was available to the Original kalon society. this society was post-scarcity, post-economy, and by and large post-suffering. shrine guardians were raised, or perhaps created, to power a set of shrines that had been built across a breadth of planets. these shrines were also powerful technology: the energy they produced was intended to defeat the final challenge faced by any sapient race: it would bestow immortality upon kalons, thereby conquering death and elevating the species to a higher level of existence.

the intention was that each shrine, powered, would emit a force of energy so powerful that every kalon-inhabited planet would be connected in a sort of esoteric web, a "constellation" of inhabited planets. as you can imagine, something went terribly wrong. the blast of energy instead severed all communications between kalon outposts, destroying all but the most rudimentary of their technology (anything on "the cloud" was gone).

beyond that, all kalons on the shrine-bearing planets -- and even any planets nearby -- were immediately decimated by sheer kinetic force. except for the shrines' guardians, upon whom the energy was most concentrated. these kalons developed immortality as was intended, but now bear the responsibility to preserve the culture that was destroyed. i'm not sure if the guardians know that others exist -- each one may believe themselves to be the final Original kalon. it would make for a cool story if one of them concluded that there must be others, and took to the stars to seek out their compatriots!

i'll think more on this, too -- #5's plant theme is cool, and i know we've chatted about my keelyon species (who have a psychic connections with plant matter). perhaps the original shrine guardians had relationships with different sentient beings in some sort of cross-planetary alliance? i think all of this is so far in the past that it's forgotten mythos for most kals, at this point. so, modern kalon societies aren't conscious of this, and only a few travelers have ever actually met a guardian. but, y'know how so many religions have bull-headed men in their mythology? that sort of consistent imagery that implies some universal point of origin probably exists in kalon societies across the universe, except the imagery is associated with this trifecta.

some ideas for them as individuals...

#5 -- this kalon, rawda, lives in a huge (like, the size of a village) domelike greenhouse. her planet used to be covered in a sprawling solarpunk urban landscape, but now is almost entirely covered in dense jungle. the interior of the greenhouse contains vegetation as thick as that of the landscape surrounding it, now, except that the plants & animals contained within are ancient. picture a giant dome full of pleistocene plants & animals surrounded by a modern forest.

#7 -- the planet this kalon, mavhu, inhabited is now entirely flooded (though it didn't used to be). this kalon has walked the ocean floor for thousands of years. their immortality means they do not need to surface for breath, and they have long since overcome the discomfort associated with not breathing through meditative ritual. this is one of the most difficult guardians to locate, since their shrine & beacon is covered by ocean. perhaps they haven't spoken to a traveler in hundreds of years. maybe they are the shepherd of a burgeoning species of aquatic sapients, who view them as a silent deity?

[ellyenchanted]

༺✴༻
click to view my forms!

[WitchHazel]

Entering for #2, #4, and #7!
(Apologies for how long these are sjgdshdj the ideas just would not stop flowing)


Entry for #2 and #4

I decided to combine these entries, as these two would be tied together through their stories!
#2 - Dante - meaning "steadfast," "enduring," or "everlasting". He/Him.
#4 - Mazzikin - taken from an invisible demon from Jewish mythology, name thought to mean "damagers" or "those who harm". She/They.

⋆｡°✩♬⋆⭒˚.⋆

Erelys; the Forest of Bone, is a land shrouded in mystery, in the upper reaches of the nation of Norraith. Legends tale of an ancient war between the fae and giants of olde. Once a haven for fae and their descendants, Erelys was one of the first settlements to be attacked by the giants' forces. Two powerful faeries, once rivals, joined forces and rallied their people to defeat the giants. When the general's toxic lifeblood spilled from a fatal blow, it seeped into the earth, poisoning all life that drew succour from it. The trees blanched white with fright, and the leaves took on a hue as red as the blood that had been spilled.

Over time, people began to return to Erelys - the outcasts of society; those deemed cursed or misunderstood. Most mistrusted and feared of all are a group of assassins known as the Raven's Hand. The Raven's Hand view Erelys as a holy place - there, the Phantom Queen joined forces with her enemy, and defeated the giant threat, winning an important victory for the people. Many of the Raven's Hand are descendants of her bloodline, and worship her as a deity of fate and death. They are overseen by a seer - the Raven's Eye; someone who interprets visions and prophecies from the Phantom Queen herself, and dictates the fates of those to die by the Raven's Hand.

Dante wasn't born in Erelys.

He has little memory before the Forest of Bone - fragments of warmth and care. Disjointed shards of fear. The cold night's air against his fur. He doesn't know why he was left to fend for himself in that haunted place, nor what became of his family - if he ever really had one to begin with. He wandered, lost and hungry, for days until a cloaked individual took him in.

They said he was lucky to be found - that he would have perished, if not for fate's guidance. The Phantom Queen had brought him to them. But for what purpose, only the Eye knew. He was raised in their traditions and guided by their faith, becoming a devout follower of the Phantom Queen himself. He had a natural talent for the blade - a boon, where the Raven's Hand were concerned.

As Dante grew older, his skill only improved. He rose through the ranks of his peers, making a name for himself. Some started to see him as a direct vessel of the Phantom Queen's will, despite his lack of prophetic power. They called him "the Hand of Fate". For years, he eliminated every single target the Eye designated. No questions asked.

Until he met Mazzi.

⋆｡°✩♬⋆⭒˚.⋆

In the town of Hawthorne, there is one rule.

Don't go into the woods.

On the surface, Hawthorne is a small, peaceful community on the edge of a vast forest. But not everything in Hawthorne is as it seems. Rumours of hauntings, strange noises in the forest, and people disappearing seem to sweep through the town. This is all normal for the residents, of course. No one seems to bat an eye at these strange goings-on anymore.

The forest goes by many names, but one rises to prevalence above all - "the Lost Wood". Where the lost are never found. Legends tell of strange music being played at night, wafting through the branches. Those who hear it are compelled to follow, leaving their lives behind. For this reason, even walking along the borders of the woods is forbidden at night.

But Mazzi had no way of knowing the danger that lurked within. An innocent child, they followed their bold friends to the forest's edge, right as the sun began to set. Under the cover of darkness, her horrified parents rushed out to search for their child. But the time they noticed she was missing, it was far too late. Children will almost always cave to curiosity, if no one tells them why something is the way it is.

Mazzi's memories of their time in the Lost Wood are fuzzy and disjointed. Trees as black as night, blossoming into leaves of an emerald green unlike any Mazzi had ever seen. Crimson sap spilling from weeping eyes. Gnarled branches reaching out towards her, snagging tufts of fur on their wicked claws. Wet, heavy air that chilled her to the bone. Thick fog that stank of something sweet and briny, like slowly rotting fruit. Unintelligible whispers on the breeze. And the stars... they were wrong. Cold and hard, like thousands of tiny eyes boring under Mazzi's skin.

Worst of all...

The creature.

A towering, fearsome figure with the skull of a deer and the teeth of a wolf. Its hulking form was covered in thick, oily black fur, with branches, mosses, and dead leaves wrapped inside like a foul bouquet. A thick, tenebrous tail dragged in the leaves behind it; a sinister accompaniment to each thunderous, cloven step. Tangled antlers crowned its head, made from luminous amber suspending thousands of tiny bugs within. Mazzi couldn't move. Everything inside of her screamed at her to run, but her feet were rooted to the spot. The creature reached a long, bony talon towards them. A centipede skittered from a hollow, empty eye socket, winding across its bony face. Its amber heart pulsed with trepidation through its exposed ribs. She was sick with the smell it; a wet, earthy scent that forced all thought from her mind.

As its twisted finger made contact with her forehead, ebon feathers erupted from her fur.

When she awoke, Mazzi was lying in a pile of mulch, just outside the accursed forest. A foul dream, they tried to silence their quivering heart. A foul dream, and nothing more. But the black plumes scattered across their coat said otherwise. Perhaps this is the dream, she pondered as she shakily rose to her feet, and I am still trapped in the forest. After all - those who are lost are never found.

The townspeople could barely believe their eyes when Mazzikin staggered through the streets. No one had ever returned from the Lost Wood. No one. Most barred their shutters against her, fearing her to be "touched" by the forest's dark influence. "A portent of doom," they murmured amongst themselves. "A ghost among the living."

The door to what was once her home yawned wide and open before her. The windows sagged with grief; the shingles battered by age. It seemed as if the house had not been touched in decades. There, Mazzi stayed, in a mouldering bed beside moss-covered stuffed animals.

Until the visions began.

It started with a tree. A foul, dark thing that had loomed above the town ever since she could remember. In her dreams, she watched as lighting struck its brittle branches, sending it careening toward the township. Three houses flattened. Four lives lost. Mazzi's head throbbed. Her nose began to bleed.

She tried to warn them, but no one would listen. The townsfolk were either too skeptical, or too terrified of her to pay any heed to the words she spoke. When the storm came, she knew it was far too late. So little Mazzi huddled beneath their blankets, wishing fervently that what they had seen would not come to pass.

In the middle of the night, a splintering crack rang across the town. The top of the old tree exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. Its base creaked out a final warning, but by then, it was too late.

Three houses flattened. Four lives lost.

Just as Mazzi had proclaimed it to be.

The survivors began to regard the little kalon with awe and reverence. Some even began to worship her, believing her to be a saviour - a gift of the Guardian of the Wood, rather than a curse. As more and more of her visions came true, Mazzi amassed a large following. Every need was tended to; every whim catered. But she was still caged. These people needed her - she couldn't leave, even if she wanted to. She doubted they would let her.

So when she had a vision of a dark stranger spiriting her away, she kept it from her followers. An escape. Mazzi knew they would never have the luxury of a normal childhood. Not now, after they had been changed by the Lost Wood. And their powers were only growing. Thoughts bled from the minds around her, swirling and mixing with her own. She could even move objects without touching them, if she tried hard enough. But even her developing abilities wouldn't be enough to break her out.

Not without help.

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Dante was told of the Prophet of Hawthorne - she who blasphemed the Phantom Queen's will, with an army of loyal followers willing to give their lives in her service. Silencing this prophet would be a dangerous mission, only entrusted to the most skilled and true members of the Raven's Hand. And who was more faithful than the Hand of Faith himself?

The journey to Hawthorne was long and arduous. The Eye warned him of the dangers of the Lost Wood - for once, Dante travelled over well-worn roads and trade routes, masquerading as a mercenary for hire. Even he didn't want to risk his chances in that accursed place.

After many months, he finally set eyes upon the fabled town of Hawthorne. It was smaller than he'd expected it to be, based on the stories he had heard. Curious eyes watched the stranger as he rode into town, making a beeline for the only inn. As he paid for a room, he rolled the Eye's plan around in his head like a pearl. Step one: infiltrate the prophet's cult.

Infiltration wasn't as difficult as he had imagined it to be. Sure, he had to jump through a few hoops to prove his loyalty. But Dante soon learned that it wasn't uncommon for people to travel to Hawthorne to devote themselves to the prophet. Getting to see the prophet with his own eyes was another task entirely. They were kept under constant scrutiny by only the most loyal of their devotees; treated like some prize to be won. Unless he wanted to spend years ingratiating himself to the cult, he would have to be swift and unseen.

After learning the layout of the complex the prophet was kept in and studying the rotations of the guards, Dante was finally ready. He swiped the chambre key with more ease than expected. It was almost as if fate itself was helping him along. He thanked the Phantom Queen for her generosity as he crept through the shadows of the lavish room; dagger poised to strike.

But when he laid eyes upon his slumbering target, his blade faltered.

She's just a child.

Surely this wasn't the Phantom Queen's will? Yes, she was a harsh, demanding goddess. But never had he thought her to be so cruel as to demand a child's life in sacrifice. Would she? Questions accosted his mind, flooding his heart with doubt. And would it be right if she did? Would I have the strength to follow through? The child was the perfect picture of innocence. Is she really innocent, though? Is anyone truly innocent?

The dagger slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground. No. His faith wavered. I refuse to believe that the Phantom Queen would never ask me to do this. Did Raven's Eye know? Did he know the target is a child? ...if this is some sort of test to prove my loyalty, then... perhaps I don't want to be loyal to someone like that. His head began to throb. Ugh, why is this so confusing?

Dante didn't know how long the child had been awake, but he was broken out of his tumultuous thoughts by the feeling of eyes on his back. She was sitting upon her bed, in a soft white dress. Black feathers poked out from her shoulders and arms. His hackles rose.

"You will take me far away from here," the child intoned.

Dante couldn't help but shudder. "Ex-Excuse me?"

"I have seen it, and so it shall be. Do not worry - I come willingly. I am just as trapped as you."

"I don't... I don't understand."

So it was that Mazzikin shared her tale of mystery and woe. Dante replied in kind, though the young seer had seen much of his past already. When they had finished, silence stretched between them like a taut wire.

"They will send more assassins after me if you return empty-handed," Mazzikin spoke matter-of-factly.

"Then..." Doubt flickered across Dante's face. His brow darkened as resolve turned to steel. "...then I won't go back. If what you say is true, and you really can't leave... we can leave here together. I can't promise you a good life, but at least you won't be trapped by their idolatry anymore. And I... I see now. I was just a finely honed tool to my people. I've been just as trapped as you are, this whole time. How could I not see it before? How..."

Mazzikin's eyes shone for a moment. Inky fluid seeped from their nostrils. "We don't have much time, dark hunter." She swiped a wrist across her face. "If we are to leave, we must do so now. My people will kill you if they catch you, and I will be powerless to stop them."

Dante's resolve hardened. "Then we flee."

Living on the run is no easy life. But at least now, Mazzikin can learn to be a kid again. Dante isn't the best teacher - he never had a true childhood himself. But he does everything he can to protect her, and has grown to see her almost like a daughter in their time together. As Mazzi rediscovers what it means to be a child, Dante begins to reconnect with his own inner child. And together, they can finally start to heal.


⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧


Entry for #7

#7 has been a longtime favourite kal <3 I adore seeing them around, and I do really enjoy the original lore you had for them as well so this entry is inspired by/slightly based off of that!
I may come back to edit/proofread this later and maybe add another entry <3
(If I were to win her, I would definitely be using some of my myos and either designing or comming someone to make designs for Dorian and Ruthanne! I have a design in the works for Willoh already hehe)

Cordelia - meaning both "daughter of the sea" and "heart". She/Her.

⋆｡°✩♬⋆⭒˚.⋆

Cordelia's story begins before she was even born.

The underwater kingdom of Nimhastonn was not beholden to the country of Luerre, and had existed long before the land-dwellers began building the village of Cœrumar. As you can imagine, the citizens of Nimhastonn were none too happy about land-dwellers encroaching on their territory. They sent mighty floods, storms, and even sea monsters to attack the workers, attempting to stop the town from being built. But the workers' determination outshone all of their threats. The king had demanded a port be built on the eastern coast, so their allies in the Seinarin Alliance could make the journey across the Sea of Pearls.

Over the years, Cœrumar grew from a small town into a vast city. And as it grew, so did the amount of commerce from distant lands coming in on ships. A duchy was established under the crown of Luerre - Cœrumar had its very own noble family. But not all were pleased about these developments. The influx of ships had a vast impact on Nimhastonn - fish were scarce; even those raised as livestock were declining in population. Plants were dying, people were falling ill, and junk was consistently tossed overboard by the sailors. Not only that - waste from the city itself was polluting their once-beautiful waters. The royals would have no more of it. When their daughter was stricken with the same sickness caused by this pollution, they took it as an attack against them. The aquatic kalons began to launch counterattacks - first against the boats, which resulted in a closure of the ports. Then, upon the city itself. They came through the aqueducts and sewer systems, catching the Cœrumarans off guard. During the conflict, Nimhastonn forces managed to breach the castle, and the duke's life was taken.

This battle was the catalyst for a long, gruesome war. Cœrumar sent for aid from the crown, and received skilled soldiers to protect them. But even skilled soldiers couldn't breach Nimhastonn's defences. Being underwater had its benefits. Mages were far and few between, and the Cœrumarans would need to rely on powerful magic to be able to breathe underwater.

Generations later, the war was finally halted. Those who still lived had inherited their parents' problems, as well as their prejudices - but they had also inherited their pain. Both Cœrumar and Nimhastonn were exhausted. The waters had been red for far too long, and with the ports closed, Cœrumar's funds were running out. And so it was that Duke Raphael of Cœrumar brokered a peace treaty with Queen Melusina of Nimhastonn. Nimhastonn would become part of Luerre officially, and receive all the benefits that came with it. They would cease their attacks on ships, allowing for free trade once again - so long as the routes did not travel directly over Nimhastonn's capital. Cœrumar would forbid the dumping of refuse into the ocean, and create a filtration system to protect Nimhastonn from future threats of pollution. Raphael's son, Alain, was around the same age as Melusina's daughter, Maren. Duke Raphael and the Queen Melusina to the conclusion that a treaty would be best represented with a symbol - and what was the opposite of war, in their eyes? Why, love and unity, of course. It was a good match, as far as the public eye was concerned. Though the children were none too pleased about this proposal, they agreed it was for the best. Both understood that as nobles, they would have to make sacrifices for the good of their people.

Over time, Alain and Maren grew to enjoy each other's company. The two realised that they had a lot in common, aside from the societal pressures being placed upon them as nobility. Alain was no musician, but he appreciated the arts and loved to hear Maren sing. Maren was no warrior, but had a healthy appreciation for the dedication Alain put into wielding a blade. Maren could use hydromancy to heal injuries and illness, and though Alain was not magically gifted, he had a keen interest in medicine. They shared a fondness for sweets, as well as painting. But most importantly, they cared deeply for their peoples, and were devastated by the suffering the war had wrought on both sides.

The wedding was a grand affair, held on the rocky beach itself so that everyone could attend regardless of their lineage. There were those who were set in the old ways and refused to show up - including many of Queen Melusina's family members - but there were also those who had lost much in the war, and were relieved that it was ending. A new castle was constructed - an elaborate building of limestone set into the face of a seaside cliff. Half of the palace was submerged in the ocean, and the other half protruded onto the shore. The castle became a symbol of unity - but no symbol of unity would be of more prominence than the heir the pair produced.

Cordelia never wanted to be a symbol. But as half merkal and half land kalon, she represented both districts of the newly named duchy of Nihmmar. When kalons looked at her, they saw peace and unity. From the day she was born, her future had already been charted out for her. As heir to the duchy, Cordelia split her time between the two districts - spring and summer were spent predominantly on the shores of Cœrumar, while she made the short pilgrimage to Nimhastonn for autumn and winter. Her days were filled with lessons on etiquette and poise, with little time to herself. Hers was a life of preparation - she had to be the perfect figurehead; the perfect blend of both districts. Her mother taught her how to use her voice to charm and soothe allies and enemies alike. Her father taught her to defend herself. "Always have a smile on your face", "never admit aloud when something is not to your liking", "don't slouch in public", "never let your guard down"... these and many other phrases like them were a constant numbing refrain. In the eyes of the court, she was a grain of sand growing into a pearl.

In truth, she was a bird in a gilded cage.

Her smiles were plastic. The pressure from both sides of her family to act in specific and often conflicting ways was crushing. But like a deep sea fish, she adapted to the pressure. Cordelia learned to mould herself to be whatever was needed or wanted in any given moment. The court was a battlefield - each decision she made had to be precisely calculated. She carefully chose which face to show them, day by day, hour by hour. If she showed even the slightest hesitation, her enemies would pounce. Weakness was not an option.

By the time she reached adulthood, Cordelia had so many different masks that she didn't know who she was anymore. Was she a shallow sycophant? A cold-hearted chess master? The golden symbol of progress? They all seemed to blur together. Every mask served a purpose - to make others see what they wanted to see. What they were expecting to see. All for other people. But the darkest hours of the night... those were hers, and hers alone. In those hours, she could turn her gaze upon the stars and dream of a different life. What would things be like for her if she were born to a family of tradesmen instead? Sailing upon the open seas, stopping at ports all over the world. What if she were a wild bird? Drifting on the wing, far above it all. Not a care in the world save where her next meal would be found. On nights like these, she would sit at the window, dreaming up different lives. Sometimes, she would paint, or pluck a few songs on her harp. Occasionally, she would even haunt the castle halls with ethereal flute music. Never did she sing - not where she could be heard. Her voice was a weapon. Just as it could charm and soothe, it could bend and break. Her mother had taught her that much.

Cordelia never knew the meaning of the phrase "be careful what you wish for". At least, not until the day her chains of pearl snapped.

Pirates had long been a scourge on Nihmmar, even before the Day of Unity. Cordelia had been raised to hate them. And it wasn't hard, given that pirates always brought mayhem and misery. Stealing, pillaging... even murder. There was no line they wouldn't cross for coin. Trade ships wouldn't always make it to port. Sometimes, the pirates even loosed their cannons upon the shore itself. The best even developed aquatic countermeasures to prevent the Nimhastonnite guard from stopping them. So when the foul news reached her ears that Duchess Maren had been caught, captured, and subsequently killed by pirates while on a diplomatic mission, hatred bloomed in her heart. Her father, ever the warrior's spirit, swore vengeance. While he tracked down the pirates responsible, the grieving Cordelia was left to rule the duchy alone.

Despite the weight of her loss, she refused to allow the court to see her as frail. Not even a week had passed after the Duke's departure, and the people were already clamouring for justice. Someone had to pay. Cordelia may not have known the exact pirates who committed the heinous act, but while her father figured that out, she could tighten the noose around their neck. With the power appointed by her new office, the spiteful young woman tightened the laws pertaining to piracy. Anyone suspected of piracy was to be publicly executed in a show of force.

Her methods were brutal, but efficient. Petty crime began to subside in Nihmmar, and acts of piracy were reduced. But in her heartless pursuit of righteousness, Cordelia had made her own people afraid of her. And to fear her was to fear unity itself.

Separatist factions swelled in numbers, right under the young noble's nose. And amidst the chaos her grief had wrought, a surprising visitor graced her presence. Her cousin on her mother's side; a handsome kalon by the name of Dorian. Cordelia hadn't seen him in a few years, as he had been away on diplomatic missions on land as soon as he was of age. His charming personality paired with his status as one of the few Nimhastonn nobles with legs made him the perfect ambassador to the land. He quickly ingratiated himself to Cordelia, becoming a trusted advisor and confidante in a matter of months.

When news reached Cordelia that her father had been slain in his investigations into her mother's death, Dorian was there to pick up the pieces. She was too blinded by loss to understand Dorian's true motives. They had been close as kits, after all - there was already a foundation of trust between the two. But that foundation was about to crumble.

Not long after losing her father, Cordelia was struck by a mysterious illness. It happened gradually at first - dizzy spells, nosebleeds, indigestion… all hidden from the public eye, until they grew so severe that Cordelia had to stop making public appearances. Dorian gladly took her place at meetings and events, assuring everyone that her illness would pass quickly. Behind closed doors, he called for healers from across the realm. None could figure out what was causing her illness, nor supply a cure for it. They tried herbal remedies, controversial new techniques, and even magic. But Cordelia was growing weaker by the day.

The citizens grieved, fearing they would lose yet another member of the duchy, and all in such a short span of time. By the time she could barely stand, the staff had accepted the worst. She was dying. But all was not as it seemed. In the eve of the new moon, a maid rushed into her quarters under the cover of darkness. The frenzied kalon hurriedly told Cordelia of a conversation she had overheard - a separatist plot to poison Cordelia over time, to make it appear as if she were succumbing to a fatal illness. They were using a rare toxin produced only by a specific type of fish, found in the deeper reaches of Nimhastonn. In destroying the living vestige of unity, the separatist rebels hoped to destroy unity itself. They planned to place one of their own conspirators upon the throne when she fell, and had support from many of the noble houses of Nimhastonn. If Cordelia were to make a miraculous recovery, they would find some other way to silence her.

Surrounded by enemies with nowhere left to turn, the ailing duchess knew she had to flee. The feeble illusions of trust had been shattered. The thought even crossed her mind that the maid was leading her into a trap, but what choice did she have? She was going to die either way. Supporting most of her weight, the maid smuggled her out of the castle through the servants’ passages. Once clear of the palace walls, she dressed her in rags and set her aboard a trade ship bound for the Seinarin Alliance. There, Cordelia could recover without fear for her life, and gather allies to take back her title. Everything her parents and grandparents had worked for was at stake. Cordelia vowed not to let their vision of peace be sundered.

While aboard the trade vessel, Cordelia began the arduous process of recovery. A travelling medic by the name of Willoh kept a watchful eye on her, supplying her with herbal remedies to aid in her healing process. Now that she knew what was wrong, Cordelia could receive the proper care and treatment.

About a quarter of the way through their journey, the unthinkable happened. A thick mist rolled in across the waves, making navigation both impossible. But it was what stalked the mist that was the true danger.

The pirates came out of nowhere, quickly subduing the traders and claiming the vessel as their own. Cordelia did what she could to fight back, but there were too many of them, and she was still weak from the poison. The crew was taken hostage. The pirates questioned them mercilessly, but quickly realised they had little information of value. So they raided their goods, and offered the crew a choice - they could work for the pirates, or spend their time in the brig and be dropped at the next port. Any who resisted were to be thrown overboard. Willoh and many others agreed to join the pirates. They needed a medic after all, and Willoh refused to turn a blind eye to anyone in need.

In no condition to fight, Cordelia reluctantly allowed herself to be escorted to the brig. She would never join the dirty scoundrels who had taken her parents from her. Unlike the merchants, the pirates had an eye for spotting members of nobility - after all, they had ransomed quite a few in their time. Besides, Cordelia’s halos were rather distinctive - it was honestly a miracle none of the traders had recognised her. Rumours began to circulate amidst the crew, until the captain finally emerged from her quarters to see the truth for herself.

Captain Ruthanne Stern ran a tight ship, and thought of her crew like family. She was no stranger to the brutal policies Cordelia had instituted when she held her title - many of her friends had perished because of them. She herself had once been Cœrumaran, before excessive taxation had forced her into a life of crime. But the woman she saw before her wasn’t the face of Cordelia the Condemner. It was that of a tired, scared young woman trying to put up a front of bravery. Though Ruth’s heart softened, her resolve never wavered. “We ransom her back to her own people. She should fetch a hefty price.”

Cordelia knew that going back to Nihmmar meant certain death. She tried to tell the pirates about the plot against her, but they didn’t seem to care. And why would they, after she had been the cause of so much suffering for them? Cordelia had built pirates up in her mind to be bloodthirsty monsters. But when she looked them in the eye, all she saw were people.

Messages were sent out, and a rendezvous point was selected. The Navy was told to send a single vessel, and the pirates would do the same. However, the pirates doubted the Navy would keep their word - though their duchess’s life was directly imperilled, capturing and executing the crew of the Ruthless would be a tantalising thought. So the pirates sent messages to their allies, who arrived in droves to protect their own. Before Cordelia had taken the duchy, they were a disorganised group of ragtag criminals. But with her as their common enemy, they had forged alliances and treaties. Cordelia had become a symbol of unity to them too, in a twisted way.

As they arrived at the rendezvous, the captain retrieved Cordelia from the brig and bound her in rope, preparing to make the exchange. But the crew of the Ruthless was caught off guard when they were immediately fired upon by dozens of Navy ships, without a care that the duchess was on board. The Ruthless’ fleet and their allies emerged from the thick mist that seemed to cling to them.

The night was lit ablaze. Cannons boomed across the sea; smoke choking out the stars. The waters roiled as aquatic kalons did battle beneath the waves. The clang of metal against metal danced among the deck as boarding parties closed the gap between them. Cordelia saw this as an opportunity to escape. She broke her bonds on a naval officer’s sword, then used her long tail to sneak behind him and sweep his legs from under him. In the commotion, he dropped his weapon. Though she knew not which side to turn it upon, Cordelia picked it up and leapt into the fray. If she could just get to the helm, she could commandeer a ship of her own and set a course for Seinaru. It was risky, but it was her best plan. Naval officers swarmed towards her, seemingly ignoring the pirates as best they could. Cordelia couldn’t help but think that was a bit odd, but she blinked away her concerns and focused on her mission.

It wasn’t until they started swinging at her neck that she realised they were trying to kill her. Her mind reeled. The Navy was in on the plot? No. They couldn’t be. They were loyal to the crown above all else, even the duchy itself. And surely the crown wouldn’t want her dead… they supported the Day of Unity. Even armed with this new realisation, she couldn’t bring herself to spill the blood of her own people. Though aiming to maim was arguably crueller than going for the kill, at least the soldiers would get to go back to their families. There would be no more grief at her hands.

After a bloody, tiresome battle, the navy ships were captured. Cordelia had failed in her mission to commandeer a vessel, and was back in the custody of the pirates. The captain glanced down at the sword in her hand, and she could’ve sworn she saw a sly smile creep upon the other kalon’s face. “You fight well,” Ruthanne mused. “- for a Blueblood.”

Cordelia spit on her boot.

Their oh so touching moment was swiftly interrupted by one of the crew, who had apprehended the naval admiral who led the charge. He was beaten and bloodied, with the look of a man who knew his time was short. “Cap,” the pirate started. “You’re gonna wanna hear this.” His eyes flickered between Ruthanne and Cordelia. “She is, too.”

After some light coercion, the admiral loosened his tongue. His tale was illuminating, but left a pit of dread in Cordelia’s stomach. Dorian, as next in line, had assumed Cordelia’s title and branded her a traitor. He claimed that she was the one who had her parents killed, and that her attack on pirates was a ruse. She used them as her scapegoats, all so she could gain more power and prestige. He even had the people convinced that Cordelia was actually part of a conspiracy to turn the duchy over to the pirates. Cordelia scoffed at this - how could anyone believe such obvious lies? But the admiral continued to explain that Dorian was using mersong to manipulate the people - a practise not necessarily illegal, because there had been little precedent for it. Mersong was usually relegated to minor powers, such as the charming and calming qualities Cordelia’s possessed. But Dorian’s was beyond the scope of anything anyone had seen before - it could affect many people at once. He even used thaumaturgy stones to project his voice all around Nihmmar; greatly amplifying his power. But that wasn’t all - he told the public that if Cordelia was found, she should be brought to him directly. Whoever has information on her whereabouts would be greatly rewarded. But the reward was just another of his lies. He had given the military orders to kill Cordelia on sight.

The admiral continued that he suspected Dorian was in league with a large faction of Separatists known as the Rising Tide - predominantly made up of Nimhastonnite nobles who wanted things to go back to the old way. They wanted Nimhastonn to be its own sovereign nation again, rather than beholden to Luerre. But that wasn’t all - they aimed to do this by flooding Cœrumar and taking it for their own. Cordelia was eerily reminded of the tale of Basseville; an ancient kingdom that was swallowed by the sea due to the folly of its princess. She could not let half of her people suffer the same fate.

The admiral also shed light on Cordelia’s parents’ deaths - it wasn’t pirates who killed them. Rising Tide loyalists disguised as pirates had performed the foul acts themselves. And all the while, the mastermind had been seated at Cordelia’s right hand, holding her through her grief. It was almost enough to sicken her to her stomach.

For his cooperation, the crew of the Ruthless agreed to drop the admiral at the next port they stop in, along with the captured merchants. Cordelia couldn’t help but notice that they seemed almost as unsettled by the news as she was. She knew she was useless to the pirates now, and given her reputation, they were more likely to execute her than offer her the same mercy. So she did the unthinkable.

“I have changed my mind,” the former noble uttered, swallowing her pride. “I will join your crew.”

Chaos erupted on the deck of the ship. Outrage, shock, and even admiration flickered across the faces of the pirates. Many protested, but the captain put her foot down. “We offered, before we knew who she was. It’s the code. If we break it, then we’re no better than those backstabbing bluebloods.”

The captain’s word was final. Though she didn’t like it, Ruthanne was just as bound to the code as the rest of the pirate alliance. They couldn’t execute Cordelia now, even if they wanted to.

Cordelia had a plan - a good one, at that. All her life, she had to be charming and manipulative to get her way. So she would charm the pirates into helping her, despite her reservations. She needed them on her side to save her people, and she needed their ships to secure allies from other countries.

Months passed. Allies were garnered, and a small resistance network was starting to take shape. Through it all, Cordelia’s eyes were opened. These people weren’t monsters at all. They were kind, funny, even generous at times. They had a strict code they followed, which she found almost honourable. But most importantly, she realised that these people were struggling. Many of them were victims of the monarchy - whether it be escaping excessive taxation, unjust punishment for petty crimes, or conformity, they had all suffered at the hands of the system from which she benefitted. It was no wonder they despised her - though she certainly hadn’t done herself any favours by hunting them. Guilt began to plague her, but it did not drown her - it stoked a fire in her heart. Cordelia never wanted to be a duchess, after all. When she returned to her gilded cage, she would break its bars. An elected council of members from both districts would take her place. Establishing such a thing would be a long journey, and she would have to put certain checks and balances into place before she abdicated. After all, the people should be the ones who decide what is best for them - not a family of out-of-touch regents. The issue of the greater monarchy would be a larger fight, but at the very least, she could ensure Nihmmar’s freedom.

[Ucanthandleme]

Reusing some ideas I've had before that I think suit them all well, thank you for the opportunity good luck to everyone!

#2
Name: Rex
Ideas: I think he'd go really well into my new wild west au as a tough on the outside teddy bear on the inside, not too many thoughts going on but his strength and kindness takes him far.
Inspiration:
Rex always had a hard time around others. He wasn't very stylish, never kept his hair in check (he had once found a muffin in it), couldn’t tell a joke and for the life of him, could not cook. But although the minor flaws he always had a smile, spoke in a very polite tone, could eat a whole pie by himself (if you call that a skill) but most of all, he was strong. Very, very strong. Cow got its head stuck in the fence, all good he could pull the fence apart to get it out. Tree fell down in the storm last night, easy, he can lift it with one hand. The baker can open the cellar door, he can - whoops broke it might need a new door (at least it’s open now). So despite his flaws he has one thing that allows him to garner the kindness of others. He was strong.

When he was younger his father used to say to him “You may not be able to count to ten or know how to cook but you're the best at chopping wood”, yea probably not the most inspirational thing you were hoping for but for Rock it was the best thing he ever heard. That's right he can't read but he sure can hunt a whole deer by himself. So from a young age although he wasn’t like others they didn’t shun him, instead they actively sought him out. Calling his name out loud when they needed a hand and he would gladly obliged. This kindness was given back too. He couldn’t cook so his neighbour would for him, he couldn’t read the mail so the postal boy would help, he wore his pants backwards (well that's his problem).

Many times it would happen, people from other villages coming for trade and such, to which whenever they saw him, would give looks of disgust and fear, sometimes they would spit at him, call him names. That was rather stupid of them, cause he was strong. Traveler got their wheel stuck in a pothole all good he’d just lift up the whole carriage, tripped over while running from him, all good, he’d lift them up gently, pat the dirt off of them, and hand them a cookie from the bakery. Then ever so slowly he wasn’t so scary anymore, the children thought he was pretty cool (more like they thought his club was cool), the adults enjoyed his company (free box lifting and all you had to do was give him a meal). So although he looked scary and a little bit hairy, because he was strong (and polite), he could easily befriend others, well for the price of a pie of course.

#4
Name: Siren
Ideas: I'd love to place him in my universal world as part of a tribe that lives amongst the animals near a sea. He can actually transform into a bird and fly over the island and across the sea to see and experience new places however he always ends up back home
Inspiration:
He looked into the hollow hole, small red toadstools at its door, pitch black darkness at it’s centre. Siren bent down onto the ground, leaves crunching against his knees, his pants dampening due to the morning dew. Little spores of dust floated into the air sparkling in the light gleaming down between the leaves of the forest trees. Getting closer and closer to the hollow hole darkness descended upon his vision. Then as he looked into the pitch black hollow he held up his hand. Tap, tap, tap, Siren knocked his fist against the tree's weathered exterior. Tap, tap, tap, the sound echoed out from the hollow as if responding to his greeting. Giving a small smile he opened his mouth humming into the hollow. And just like before the hum was echoed back but became more haunting and mellow, the same tune yet so much more enchanting.

Siren's body got lower and lower to the ground, his body was lowered until his head gently rested at the edge of the hole. He hummed into the hollow, a long sad melody crossed over into the hole, his voice and the echo’s merging into one. His voice remained stable and in tune but the sorrowful melody seemed to intensify as he hummed. Siren could not help but reminisce about the days of old, his mother taking his small hand in her own. The warmth from her palm transferred to his as she pulled him along gently, her mellow voice, bright laughter, all of it filled him with warmth. She would pull him to the forest speaking secrets of the tree. Sitting him down at a tree hollow she told him mimicking creatures lived in their trunks. Every word you spoke, every song you sang, every secret you whisper would be repeated back.

He remembered being in wonder at her story, how amazed that there was a creature that could speak back your own words. He sat at the stump with his mother as she sang into the hollow, the hollow responding back. She told him the creature in the hollow was always there and would always speak back, no matter what you said it would only mimic it back to you, any secret you told, any song you whispered, it would tell no one else of. Siren whistled the last tune of the melody, his eyes becoming focused once again. Although it was such a silly story he could not help but come to a hollow whenever he felt lonesome. Whenever he longed for home, whenever he wished to speak that which can’t be said, he’d speak to the hollow. For perhaps he was content with the small thought there was something that could keep his secrets, something that could make him feel less alone and more at home.

Siren often felt nostalgic of his home and childhood when speaking to a hollow tree.

#8
Name: Dam
Ideas: A universal world that is set in a modern scape, I'd love to have him as an season actor who appears very calm, kind and patient but in reality has seen so much through his career he really just hates it all yet he puts on a facade as he doesn't want to disappoint his fans!
Inspiration:
I do remember the clouds.

The mynute movement of the clouds passing overhead as the wind whistled in my ears. The gradose symphony of natures cries would lull my body to relax further into the ground. Blades of soft grass would brush over my toes as I squeezed them deeper into the plumage of green below. Only nature and I in the small expanse I lay. I would follow the clouds with my eyes, the clumps of white merging in all different shapes. A man and a child, a dog, an apple, a wondrous amount of things could be constructed in my mind from the clouds, then drift off as fast as they came. Their ever changing shapes would lead my mind to wonder, further and further away my thoughts would drift with the clouds.

I wish my body could drift off too.

My mind would wander to days of old, the spectacle of travelling long distances over the sea, the land, the sky. Marvelous feats were machines made of metal, shiny exteriors which held intricate insides, their features allowing them to carry us distances unimaginable before. I would daydream of this often, a life unfiltered, the freedom to go anywhere. I would also see my mind wander to distant hoards of people, exuberant smiles on their faces. Young and old hand in hand, as they watched time pass by all too fast. The giggles of small children and bellowing laughter of grown men, truly a melodies sound. I too once daydreamed of a never ending day, the sun's rays shining brightly upon the land, revitalising all that the golden hues touched.

Such daydreams though could not hide the truth.

I pulled my mind back, giving a melancholy smile at the sky, before pushing my body from the ground. ‘The days of old were truly paradise’ I thought as I felt the straw beneath my fingers, the grass had long gone brown and brittle, the texture uplesant and hard. I turned my head to the sky, the winding white clouds gone, in a picture of grey and red, the sky appeared on fire. The hollow hue of grey encompassing the land, the sun had long been strangled by the fire in the sky. And the land around. The land had long turned to ash and dust, the machines that once took us distances left in rubble and ruin, and the laughter that once filled the air simply ceased to exist, leaving only silence to remain.

I hope this could be a daydream too.


#7
Name: Tavern
Ideas: I plan to have him placed in my reincarnation world, in his last life he lost his crown, his position, everything to the one he once loved. Now he is determined to live a different life, he does not long for revenge instead he wishes to live free, uninhibited by anything or anyone, explore the oceans, the skies, the world he had never got to see.
Inspiration:
Pt1: A fish in the ocean

It was stolen by the ocean
The shiny thing I saw
Tumbling
Twisting
Turning
Rolling into the ocean with the tide
It disappeared into the ocean

I searched for it
It’s sparkle enchanted me
Calling me below the waves
Come
Come
Come
It whispered from below the waves
The shiny thing I saw
I had to get it back from the ocean

It was stolen by the ocean
It took another one away
Shining
Gleaming
Sparkling
It showed at the tips of the waves
Then sunk back under

I searched for them
All the shiny things within the waves
The things the ocean stole
Mine
Mine
Mine
They were mine below the waves
The shiny things I saw
Finally came up to the shore

I stole them from the ocean
They came up on the dusty sand
Flip
Flop
Flip
Many shiny things from the ocean
I stole them from the ocean

Thier pretty scales gleamed
But soon dried
They weren’t so shiny any more
Shiny
Shiny
Shiny
My shiny things were gone
The sun stole my shiny things
So I have to wait for more

Pt2: The ocean I hate
He hated water

Water was deceptive and cruel
It held the image of peaceful serenity
Yet was waiting to pull you under
Icy cold hands would beckon from the shallows
‘safety’ it would whisper in your ear
Only for you body to sink in if you got to close
The peaceful rush of water was merely a cover
A cover for the rushing current that dragged you along
Pulling, Pulling, Pulling, Release
Only to drag you under once again
Water was deceptive and cruel

Water is a thief
It held the image of the sun
It held the image of the moon
It held the image of the sky
It held the image of the stars
It held my reflection captive in its surface
And when you disappeared under the water
It stole you from my vision
Water is a thief

Water was cold
It turns it’s back on you
When you need it most
It did not come during the drought
It did not leave during the flood
It came and went in a flurry of movements
How frozen it’s heart was
Water was cold

Water was an enchantress
The lulling security it promised
The beauty in its calmness or beauty in it’s rush
All enchanted you deeper
Deeper
Deeper
Deeper
Until you couldn’t get out
You would sink so far no light could be seen
Only water was left
Water was an enchantress

He hated water

Tavern looked up. Water had come again, his crystalline complexion cold and detached as he watched me kneel before him. This time though I did not beg or plead, I had nothing left to beg or plead for. Water, the name of the king who abandoned his kingdom, he had stolen the crown, yet enchanted the masses to forget, he coldly watched as the land burned, my city burned, he was the one who lit the flames yet kept the people loyal... how deceptive and cruel he was. I had loved Water, he had loved me, but he took everything from me, I couldn't love him anymore.
I hated Water.

#6
Name:Veil
Ideas: I'd love to gave him as a farther like figure at a ranch set in my wild west world, a simple man who likes to play music and play games with the children he teaches at his small local school!
Inspiration:
Veil slowly rocked back and forth in the thicket chair, a long stalk of wheat gripped between their lips. They gave a gentle sigh as a cool breeze glided across their face twisting their hair up into the air with it. The simplest moments were bliss they thought as birds began their last chattering rounds for the night and silence slowly descended. A small tap was felt on their shoulder. Slowly opening their eyes they twisted their head to look at the small child, who was nervously twisting their feet with a droopy flower in hand. Seeing Veil open their eyes the child gave a grin, their small eyes crinkling with happiness as they passed over the delicate stem. Veil gave a chuckle and returned a gentle smile as they gave thanks for the flower. Taking the flower from the chubby hands they lifted it up to their nose taking a whiff of the floral scent. Fresh and new, a revitalising smell, if Veil overlooked the roots covered in dirt, this would be a heartfelt moment between them and their nephew.

Putting the flower to the side Veil bent over pulling out a small banjo from their side. Seeing the child's eyes widen Veil held a finger to their mouth indicating to be silent, before gently strumming a tune. The melody twisted and mingled in the air, the sound of the wind only adding to the tune in the air, creating an ethereal sound. The child looked in wonder as note after note flew out from Veil's fingers, the backdrop of the setting sun, flowers gently swaying in the wind, almost swaying in tune to the song, and the long strand of wheat still hanging from Veil’s mouth, all of it came together creating a simple moment of beauty. Finishing the tune Veil put the banjo down, patting the wide eyed child on the head and sending them off, before laying back in the rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth, back and forth. Enjoying the silence of the summer evening.