[greye]

shhh i was never here
this
post
is
invisible
-disappears-

[shield]

username: sei.

X a v i e r
gender: male
personality:
Xavier is more of a rebel punk ultimate trouble-maker, he walks the streets spraying up graffiti where he can.
he does have too much kindness around others, but wouldn't try doing his best at it either.
fav activity: Xavier LOVES to trash up things, anything, from cars to houses to buildings and to trash cans themselves, yep, he is
bad kid
art: wip

[dr. pupper]

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Username:

Cocoa Studios™ yo

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Name:

Presley
❝Elvis wishes he was me.
No, I'm, just kidding. Elvis is an amazing singer, and I'm no where near that good.
But, yeah. Nice to meet ya. I, am Presley. But that wasn't always my name. When
I was little, my parents would fight a lot... They kept me up all night while they yelled.
Eventually, my dad left my mom. They didn't get divorced, but he moved out and took
me with him. My name was actually Casey at the time. I didn't mind it. I liked it,
actually. But my dad changed it. He really liked Presley's music.. But yeah. I like to
call myself Casey, and tell my closest and oldest friends to call me it too.

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Personality:

I decided to take a personality text for this little guy. -the site
Well, i suppose I'll let you read on. [ This was the site's doing, not mine! I simply answered the questions.
❝Your personality type: ESFP.

Strength of individual traits: Extraversion - 80%, Sensing - 4%, Feeling - 20%, Perceiving - 56%. [ you don't have to read on after this if you don't want. Below is simply a VERY detailed description of his personality, and it's pretty long.. heh ]

For ESFP personalities, life is a never-ending party. ESFPs love being in the center of attention and enjoying even the simplest things – their fun and impulsive nature is usually very attractive to other people. People with this personality type never run out of ideas and their curiosity is insatiable – they will always be among the first to try something new and exciting.
ESFPs love communicating with other people and can spend hours upon hours chatting about various topics. There is no clearer tell-tale of an ESFP than the fact that someone has just spent the last hour talking about everything but the topic that was supposed to be the main reason for the conversation. Not surprisingly, this personality type tends to be very popular in the company of extraverted types.
ESFP personalities live in the world of opportunities and savor the pleasures, dramas and ideas that life throws at them. They are immersed in a never-ending performance, trying to cheer other people up. ESFPs are extremely talented at making other people feel good and excited, and they enjoy this immensely. The earthly and often unique wit of ESFPs is a perfect symbol of their playfulness.ESFPs have a highly developed aesthetical sense and this is one of their strongest personality traits. This type of person will enjoy creating well-decorated surroundings and recognize the value of quality in many other things.
ESFP personalities are very observant, able to notice and respond to someone’s distressed emotional state. As planning and long-term thinking are often their weakest personality traits, ESFPs may be inferior advisors and planners, but they are very well equipped to provide practical advice and emotional support.
The main weakness for many ESFPs is their lack of rationality, which can lead to superficiality and forgetfulness, with more emphasis on quick satisfaction, but not their obligations and duties. ESFPs are also likely to do their best to ignore potential conflicts instead of dealing with them head-on.
It is likely that the ESFP personality will be very practical, but not when it comes to repetitive or analytical tasks. They would rather rely on their luck or ask other people for help than spend time trying to understand a complex theory.

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Favorite Activity:

Listening to music
❝Yeah, who WOULDN'T love that? I listen to all the bands. If I had to choose one to be my favorite, it'd be Panic! At The Disco.
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Art:

Let's Rock. - By me
I am wonderful, aren't I? - by beats;
Everyone needs help to smile ☻ - by me
By Gecko Who
By mo-mo<3
By Silverheart2001
By Silentstep
by lolopuppylove
Ahemm? - By me
By ¤‡§σяᇤ
Eye of the tiger - by me
Nightmares - by Silverheart2001
by Bella Star4234
by ~Teal~Feather~
By Døthx

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Zodiac:

❝A proud Aries.. But I wouldn't mind being a Capricorn, Elvis being one and all. But, hey. I have the sign of Leonardo Da Vinci!

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Sexuality:

❝Bisexual... Why?

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Age:

❝You know.. I don't really count my birthdays. My friends are always throwing me surprise parties, but they've broke into my house so many times you wouldn't mind it.. But I think I'm around twenty-two? I don't know. It's not like they're active enough to put a big '22' candle on the cake.. Lazy idiots, hehe.

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Hex codes:

#1E1A17 █
#57E6A8 █
#B22253 █

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Favorite song:

Nina Nesbitt - Way In The World

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Likes:

Elvis Presley
Ribbons
Magic
Blueberries
Strawberry jam
Scarlet color
Music
Singing
Writing song lyrics
Drums
Guitar
Piano
Violin
Clarinet
Spider web patterns
Lights
Neon colors
Bow ties
Painting
Art
Heat

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Dislikes:


Pumpkins
Easter
Eggs [ now you know ^ ]
Apples
Honey
Impolite people
Being clumsy
Vampires
Surgery
Doctors
Ham
Rain
Cold
Red color
Polka dots
Dancing [ poor baby can't dance ]
Fire
Fish
Math


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Career:

❝I have a lot of, careers. As you've most likely figured out, I enjoy graffiti and music. I'm also quiet fond of playing instruments, no not just singing. And don't say electric guitar. I play much more than just that. Dare I say I'm quiet good at the piano and violin. I also quiet enjoy making clothes, not that many people would guess that. But I've never actaully signed up for a career.

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Interview:


The kiamara sits in front of you, in the large velvet chair.
"So, you must be Presley?" You stutter at his hard gaze.
"Who else would I be?" The male raises a brow, but there's amusement in his eyes as his gaze softens.
"Well, it's nice to meet you." You reach forward to shake Presley's paw, but he barely casts it a glance, so you pull away slowly.
"So.." You glance down at the slips of paper you hold in your hands, questions you're supposed to ask. Presley has them too, but he's not holding, or even looking at them. He never needed cards to know what to say. But you do, because you get nervous, especially around these creatures, and their hard stares.
"Do you have a favorite song, Mr.Presley?" You dare to ask.
Presley seems taken aback by this, then his surprise turns into joy. "I do," he nods, flicking his tail.
"Nina Nesbitt's Stay Out is quiet nice." He nods. You seem a bit surprised by this, thinking he listens to some rock band that hurt your ears. "Oh?" You say. Presley only nods. "But I like her 'Way In The World', too."
"Do you read, Mr.Presley?" You ask. Presley nods quickly. "I do. Books are much more than reality. They can take you on adventures that you could never really have." He explained calmly, and you smile with a nod.
"Indeed." You say calmly, then you tuck your cards in your tuxedo, which surprises the crowd a bit.
"You're twenty two, correct? Have you planned on finding a mate?" You dare to ask, but Presley is still calm, though he shakes his head. "I don't plan on finding one, as of now. I will in the future but for now," he shakes his head again.
"You seem very calm about all of these questions." You say, and Presley nods at the compliment.
"Any friend, Mr.Presley?"
"Yes, I know a lot of kiamaras, but most of my friend are crazy idiots who break into my house." He growls, but you chuckle, and that makes him smile and laugh.
"So, you're an Aries, yes?" You ask. Presley gives a little nod. "Honestly I think a few other signs would fit a man like me better.. But I've met a few people who have different personalities than expected." He says simply, straightening his tuxedo.
You give him a little nod. "How would you describe yourself?"
"Well," Presley glanced at the ceiling, then moves his head over to the wall, which is basically only windows, which are wide and go from the ceiling to the floor.
"That's a very hard question, actually.." Presley says, resting his elbow on the chair and lifting his fist for his chin to rest on it.
"I suppose.." He began again, which makes your eyes glow with interest.
"I'm not the best at noticing things, mostly feelings.." He uncurls his fist to itch his chin.
"And I'm pretty hyper.." Amusement flashes in both your eyes as he goes on.
"I wouldn't say I'm flirty but not shy either.."
"But honestly.." The color drains from his eyes, making your heart sink, because he looks sad.
"I'm not very good at realizing my own feelings.." He sighs, removing his chin from his fist and his elbow from the chair, reaching back to grab his coat and tug it over his shoulder.
"I should get going." He says finally, taking you by surprise as he bends down to shake your hand.
"Sorry I couldn't give your audience the latest gossip," he says sarcastically, and you want to see amusement in his eyes, but they look cold.
At least it's not early. You're surprised because the show should be over in maybe a minute. You must have asked more questions than remembered.
"Goodbye," Your voice shakes for some reason. "Goodbye." He repeats your words, finishing the handshake plainly and turning to the door, pushing his paw against the glass, making it swirl around.
The theme of your show starts to play, and the lights grow dimmer.
You grin, wave a hand or two, wait for the audience to cheer, tell them what show is up next, and the camera shuts off with a loud cut! from the cameraman. The audience clears from the room quickly, rising from their seats.
Instead of staying a bit, you follow them, out the spinning glass door, and wait in the hall for the elevator. While you wait, you gaze out the windows, sitting down in a velvet chair.
The windows are the same, reaching from the ceiling to the ground, and take up the whole wall.
You catch sight of a tall man, with dark fur, and a dark pinkish mane, which had been slightly flattened by the rain, and you know it's Presley.
Rain splatters against his tuxedo where he had not zipped up his coat, and against his shiny black shoes.
The elevator opens, but you wait for the next one, because everyone is already fighting for that one anyway.
Instead, you watch Presley as he enters a yellow car, which has 'TAXI' written in bold letters on a light on the top.
You can see Presley buckle his seat belt, throw off whatever of his hood he was still wearing, and he stares right up at you, making you shiver.
There's many things in his eyes; sadness, maybe, and amusement, and doubt, but he looks at the taxi man and gives him the money, and they're gone in the quick rain and heavy fog.
You've been thinking of but one thing since he looked over at you.
He, is so mysterious.
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Story:

❝Oh, gosh.. Make me relive the ground shaking yells of my parents, why don't you? Fine. I'll tell you. . .
This story is written in anthro form.


I lay on my back, and I can feel the bed shaking at the screams I hear from downstairs. This is the first night they have gotten into a serious fight. My arms are straight out at my sides, and the blanket is thrown off of me. I stare at the ceiling, waiting for a crack to form at the fan and spread until a large amount of the ceiling crashes down on me. The yells get louder and louder, and my cheeks grow wet with the tears that stream down my face. I turn onto my side, slipping my hand under the pillow, and the other one covering my ear. After a while of staring at my reflection in the mirror, tears dripping off the end of my nose, I throw the blankets off my again. The wall shaking yelling has stopped. I step out of bed, my short legs reaching for the ground. I walk into the doorway and peer out. I turn on the hall light, and creep down the stairs. I peer around the wall, flicking my tail. Mother is sitting in one of the chairs, face in her hands, and her shoulders bobbed to show she was crying, whimpering escaping her lips. I pout, but she doesn't enjoy the presence of anyone but our pet cat Butter after she was in a fight. I creep through the kitchen, ears flattened at the sound of my mother's quiet sobs. I slide open the back door. Father is standing on the back porch, the lantern lit on the table, faint light of the lantern and moon shining on both of my father's shoulders. He has a cigarette up to his mouth, and when he lowers his hand, he breathes out a faint puff of smoke. I pout, and walk quietly down the stairs, my slippers protecting me from the cold concrete. He turns as I pull on his sleeve, and he looks down at me. I can see his gaze sadden as he notices my tear-stained cheeks and the bags under my eyes. He crouches down to give me a hug, sighing into my fur, and he has now thrown the cigaratte on the floor. "We're leaving.." He says quietly, making me push him away. "What?" I growl. "Tomorrow. We're leaving." He says more sternly. I frown up at him, curling my fingers into fists. I whip around and march up the stairs, throwing open the sliding glass door which makes mother leap up from her chair, and Butter, who was laying on her lap, yowl as he's thrown off. I run up the stairs, tears streaming down my cheeks. I throw myself into bed, tossing the covers over my head, and cry and scream into my pillow, though I want to sleep.

The alarm clock wakes me up at eight in the morning. I leap out of bed, throwing on my clothes, march into the bathroom and comb my hair forward. After a while of watching cartoons, I eat breakfast, mother packs me a sandwich, I stuff it in my backpack, and I leave to school. Six hours of being teased and shouted at for crying by my locker. I finally get home, being poked on the bus. I leap down the steps, the doors closing behind me, and the bus drives away. I open the door, and my father is waiting. I stare up at him with sad eyes, but I know I can't do anything. He grabs my arm and takes me outside. I don't even struggle because I know I have no influence in this decision. He puts me in the car, and tries to do my seat belt, but I push him away and do it myself. I roll down the window as he gets the car started up. Mother stands in the doorway, staring with confusion and sadness, cradling Butter in her arms. Tears well up in my eyes, and I put my fingers on the window. She stares at me, tears streaming down her face. Even Butter looks sad, because I knew that old tom since I was born. "Bye..." I whisper, waving a finger. Butter acknowledges this with a little flick of the tail, and mother barely raises a hand to wave. "Good, bye..." I hear her choke out the whisper.

We've now moved into a new house. I haven't seen my mom, or even Butter. And I feel miserable, even though my father is as happy as he could be. My dad renamed me, so all my friends at school only know me by my appearance. My new name is Presley. My friends still call me Casey, though. My dad styled my hair straight up, because he thought my old hair was too girly, which I think is dumb. He also enrolled me i guitar and piano class. I don't like it, but I'm apparently good at playing instruments. Father seems happy. But i hate it.
My life is simply grey.

❝There you go. That's basically it. . . Good for you, make me repeat that. Gosh.. Just go away, I don't feel very good now.
I guess I should be happier though.. Now I have pretty good friends, and I have a decent voice, even though singing isn't my main passion, more of a hobby.. But, I guess my childhood was pretty grey. I like it far better now.
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30th something edit.. Well, I can't do much to improve this. It's only one night until the end date, so no more art unless I suddenly get super hyper and can draw all night. But good luck everyone. I can't edit this much more. I'll do what I can, so it's technically not a WIP. but good luck everyone. I hope this guy goes to a great home.
May have left out art. I decided to edit my form and forgot how much art I had. If you're aware of any art made for me not in my form, PLEASE PM me.

[Kitty~.]

Dropping out :c I've just got too many adoptions going on and he doesn't click as some others do. He is a gorgeous character though and I hope whoever gets him looks after him very well.
Gift art for the winner:

[hazama]

reserved with the name cardin
overlord more like NERDlord am i right folks
(joke)

[.holly999.]

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username: .holly999.

Name: Jagger
Why i chose the name: Mick Jagger, The Rolling Stones
gender: male
personality:
fav activity: Going to rock concerts.
art:
By me.
By rainbowlily.

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[Doggeh.]

username:
gender: male
personality:
fav activity:
art:

reserveeee

[.Missy.]

username:
gender: male
personality:
fav activity:
art:


HOLY

HOLY

CANT BREATH OMG OVERLOADED

WIP

[winter wonderland.]

Dropping out

[petrify]

username:
gender: male
personality:
fav activity:
art:

reserved with the name Jaune. <3