[Tiger111]

wooow I need
-res

[Shadowdannie]

Username:
Shadow Deadmaster

Mako Name:
Hanako

Name meaning:
Hanako means flower child in Japanese. This name was chosen because of the flower in her hair

NIcknames:
She goes by Hana

Personality:
Hana is a sweet girl. She loves to hang around her friends and family. She loves to paint, you can often find her in the open sunroom in her house painting pictures. Mainly Japanese related pictures. She is quite a loving person. She will stick up for someone when it is needed. She is willing to be someone's friend if they are nice to her and those around her.

History:
Hana grew up in a cozy home. Her mother and father loved her very much. She grew up being the perfect, good child. She was really big into anime and everything from Japan, seeing as she was born there and lived there most her life. She only moved to the United States when she was like 10 years old. She is now 17 years of age (human years). It was a huge change in her life to move to the US. She doesn't like it as much as she does Japan, but she deals with it.

Fave color:
Hana can never choose between red or pink for her fave color

Hobbies:
Hana absolutely LOVES so paint, she also likes hanging out with her friends and reading books

Arts:

Can be viewed here. By Tea!

[siennacereal]

reserve <3

[Ovacalix]

Res

[Cupid]

RESERVE ! <3

[.Missy.]

'serve

[not a talking cat]

reserve with the name Tsubaki <3

[jern.]

Marking, I will enter.

[Offended Cockatiel]

It waits for you.

A small myth spread around when all were just younglings. It was long forgotten in the years gone by.

Once a young girl, unheard with her screams, died alone. Her soul arose up into the sky as she passed but when it's body miraculously survived it tried to come back. The little soul tried hurrying back, down from up in the clouds, where it had made it's final departure. It went so fast, like the wind and wild dogs, that it collided with a bolder which trembled down, with an avalanche of other boulders that fallowed, like an army on behind. And the little soul became trapped within a mountain of rocks. Many years went by until those mountain rocks were sarounded by a waterfall and about to be sent sliding down onto an unsupecting, all but innocent, Mako that tread through the rocky path beneath the falls. The body of the little soul had already long been thrown away, years upon hundreds of years has passed it by, within that rocky trap. Until finally the little soul had its chance, the Mako slipped and moved a boulder, just a tiny bolder and all of those in top came flowing down. The Mako fell under the power of the rocks and the soul escaped from under them. The escape was bright, and the little soul pulled itself onto the dieing water bound creature like a fly to a beacon. And the body drifted off in the sea. They say that soul and that body will become something great.

Souls forget their history after such a long time. After all; souls are an identity, made by experiences, not by memories. Myths are forgotten just the same. But sometimes small myths are remembered in dreams that pass, so lonely and melancholy when the dreams are forgotten as well. As if the myths were all a but a mystery unsolved, unknown. But those are the things that happen. Though some say old myths are said to come true, forgotten or not.

Resurrected from a female child and brought to the seas to become a beautiful king. Kikiyo is a very spiritual male who keeps himself a secret. His soul came from a dieing child, it is said that when a being dies their soul goes up but when there is a chance that a soul can come back because the body, has somehow, miraculously survived the soul will try to find it's way back. Though, that isn't to say a soul is good at finding its first host, or a way back, it tries but also latches onto the last dieing life force it sees. Of course, he wasn't supposed to survive, and she was, body wise that is, but that's how it goes. And some remember him, the poor old sad soul and some never herd of him in his solitude of hence days gone by. And then she became him because there was nothing to her, just some empty memories and a chance for a new life. She was someone. And then she was Kikyo, and she, now a he, because spirituality has nothing to do with that matter, shall remain as Kikyo, because that is who he is. And after all, what is gender except a right of passage into one side or the other? Though a speacies swap... that's overwhelming.

Name: Kikyo
Gender: Male

Personality:

There's no possiblity of reservation.

Beauty is what I strive for, if everything could be wrapped in a bow and float up to the surface of the water i'd catch it all, just like a treasure that shines and drifts.

That's just how history goes. But it still is going, is it not?

Story:

Fables written in some Anchient text. Told of an emporer created from a liar, a King, and a theif, and most of all a human. These fables are old, passed down from family generations. Old mythical, always respected Fables that told the stories of some and taught it's readers virtues. A lesson givers, fables that taught all of later days and predicted future events.

Amnesia, what a strange phenomenon. He had amnesia when they found him, all bloodies and shaken up. Though, well, maybe you couldn't call it amnesia. He had memories, just not the right ones.

"Who are you? What happened? Where am I?" And of course there was a lot of girly flailing around when the realization that he was beneath the sea within a body he had no rememberance of being in. And all that he could remember was being a feeble human girl forgotten by the world, dragged away by a devil of a dasterdly man, screaming for mercy. He had every right to scream at that moment too and scream he did, out of utter horrified confusion. And after all that blubbering and squirming around, thinking "this is not me, who am I, what in the world is happening!? What am I?" He calmed, his shrieking echoed voice subtling down to gentle simpering whimpers. His mind went dizzy. This was not the best time or place to wake.

A hoard of them had grown, males and females and children at the back curiously taking a gander at the phenomenon of a Mako telling them deranged, confused stories of his other life, all that he could remember which was quite minimal. "You've just forgotten," one tried simmering him more with gentle words. "You're just memory confused and overthinking... silly things, silly things." One voice in the crowd chimmed a little louder than the others, seaming to chid like a sky bird. "Maybe you were a sultan," They ooffered, looking more at his accesories than his memories. There were a lot of them, in that hoard of Makos too uneased by the whole situation. "Or a flower merchant." One smiled at him. "Maybe you're a king." Some were spouting out suggestions just for the sake of it and some, some just wanted to calm the desperate Makoatl. Another one smiled at him, though in a different way than the last. "Or maybe you're a theif."

Maybe it was because of all that awkward flailing around and confusion that he didn't notice the steady stream of blood pouring out from his right side, from the top of his head to his hips spike marks lined up with bloody gashes that would not stop draining out. "Maybe you're a.." None of them noticed the blood, and the few that did could not raise their voices high enough over the crowds. The voices all hazed away until all that was left was the tugging drift of the cool blue water. His bleary eyes darted around, coral, stones, Makoatls.. Then came to rest up at the sky. The sky through the water blue looked so enchanting, shimmering and colorful with the wight foam of the water and the wight cloud lining from the sky mixing in the water. He had just a quick glimps of it before collapsing once more. Maybe he was something unimaginable.



--

But to know this you must know them

The Melancholy drifter

All his life he's been stuck in towers, just so unempowered. His life put him to the task, mother and father always told him to hide, never show his face. And so that's what he did. An old tower forgotten by everyone kept a secret boy with a history unwritten yet told on the winds, as a king and a theif. He was known only as hisses within gossip and rumors that spread in the wind, maybe he wasn't even real? They never knew, they never could know. One night when the sky was dark and the wind blew free he decided, against his odds, to escape. They had come to visit him, they had told him all those things that they always did, since he was a pup, about how the world would hate him, how there were monsters out there that wanted his head. That no one wanted him, and he should comply to their requests and just bid out, stay in his safe little home. They were cold, they never said "I love you", it was all for their reputation that he stayed there. There was never a chance to escape.

If only he knew, if only... That he was simply the son of one of them, and that he was, if the right terms are used, a bastard. His birth was a curse to their names.
But some days his mother would come to him alone, with her stories and her warm smile, telling him secrets and fables of her life. She was so kind when his father wasn't there. She'd stroke his head and talk to him in a loving voice. Of course every day that his mother left he felt lonely all over again. Years after his birth, a day after his mother had come he left that tower... No one knew of the little forgotten prince, now a grown man that no one, not even himself, knew.

[Mimi-911]

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