qwq Dropping out, sorry.
Username: Aysan1
Kia's name: Chanson Volk
Gender: Male
Story with illustrations:
Chansons family has a wide heritage, they are a strung together berth of different appearances, personalities and lives. The strongest parts of that heritage are of the Russian, Swedish and French origins. His father and mother were in fact high school sweet hearts, cliche I know. Whom, after despising each other for a year, hooked up. A home grown Russian boy with the foriegn exchange student from France, their relationship got a lot of publicity there and fast. In the small town of Dzerzhinsky, Moscow...
XxX Img here
It was only when he was little that he had this problem, troubles staying awake but then he got better at it.
Waiting, waiting and listening until the clue that papa mite be leaving, today or tommarow, had become evident.
It was twice that night that he had resisted bed time, sneaking throught the house, running down the stairs. With quick thumps all fallowing each other in a marching line. One-two, one-two, one-two, left-right, left-right, and a last thump for clarity, of his journey, at the bottom. The silly idea, to sneak through the whole upstars and then thump down the stairs like the world didn't care, it was purely childs play. But he couldn't help it, both the times he did it. He wanted to see his papa off and the night would not stop him. He wasn't a bad child, honest. He was just nervouse... scared of papa leaving with goodbyes said wile he slept. The asleep him could not remember goodbye kisses, like the awake him that did so well. But the lights in the night were only filled with his parents words cluttering the living room near by, no leaving footsteps. Only their words, speaking of secret things like "Far away" and "long time", and of course his sadist, most hated and most loved, "We'll miss you." Papa and him had sworn that they'd always tie a red rope on their fingers when he left. "When papa stares at it, I can feel his sadness." He had told his friend who had looked at it with curiosity. "And when I stare at it he can feel how much I miss him." He'd tell it all with a little puppy pout, enough to melt your heart, and his mothers friends kept saying that those words were too mature for a child.
He begged her that morning to dab the perfume behind his ears, as if he was a girl, that last present from papa before he left for work. He did as he always did, waved and grabbed his mamas hands, before yelling out "Byebye papa!" A little red string tied around his pinky finger waving in the air. After that mama and him would play games, having accidents and little slipups, great big adventures in the backyard and the living room, stories to tell papa when he came back.
Then he'd be at the tv, watching his favorite show until a shadow crept behind him and a wide figure appeared after. Papa! He always seamed so excited when he was there. That show always was speacial to him because papa always came home when he watched it. He could smell papas calogne in the air, feel his warmth, and hear his steel toed shoes walking around the living room. As if he was sitting on his papas knee as he always did, watching tv and playing with his fathers shirt, fidgeting at it as any child would do. They never could keep their hands still or to themselves. Papa wasn't really there but.... it's that sort of thing your parents tell you. They take your hand, touch your chest and say something like "Mommies here with you. My body mite not be but i'll be with you in spirit. But mommies here." And then off they go as you stare off at them sarounded by a vacant Daycare room with posters stuck up everywhere, and toys lining the floor, the chants and voices of children all in the air. That show always reminded him of the days papa was here, until, finally, a knocking came at the door, a shadow crept behind him and a wide figure appeared after. "Papa!"
(700 words max, 3 art pieces max)
Personality: (100 words max)
Chanson Volk is an overly excitable child. He happens to have an imagination that you could run to town with. Ideas, memories and all, he has the ability to turn any day into a story with enough enthisiasm to get anyone listening. Usually the stories he tells are that of other family members, his family being quite a large one consists of many story tellers, him being one of them.
he doesn't seam to notice
-Talk about an imagination, memory
-Spastic, high energy, excitable
-Chanson, being from Russian and French origins, talks with a slight, awkward sounding, accent that most characterise as excesivly cute.
Chanson's a particularly spastic, partially awkward, high energy kid. He is the overly excitable child that'll be jumping up, grabbing your hands, and climbing on top of your head, depending on the situation. He's extreamly outgoing and open, so much that his openess leads to him telling fantastic tales of his family.
73 words
-llustration 1- First quote, sneaking down the stairs, looking down
Illustration 2- Little red string, enough to break your heart, looking at the string and remembering papa and mamas friends just kept saying 'those are too mature of words for a child'
Illustration 3- Nu, pagodi- Mine, mine, mineeee...
--WIP
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