The order for mine goes from the first extra to the shark story, personality and other two extras.
username: Aysan1
mako name: Artemis Trurose
gender: male
Extra one--
Life didn't go right, darling, stop dreaming already
The old Makoatl limped towards the edge of the rock and looked back grufly, his pale blue jaw grinding on some salty sediment stones. That had become a bad pattern of his, gnawing on small salty rocks untill they broke up into peices and were swallowed, and he had no intention of stoping it. The sun left flare marks within the depth of the water, right before where he stood. That old habit of talking to himself. Like someone was listening. Not that he could see them that well if they were. "I'd like to say I lead a very happy life once. But I can't be sure," he grunted.
He was a little obsessed with that fact, what was happiness? Was he happy, was he not? Was he sad, melancholy, or some state of suppressed emotions, melded together into a soft, colodronic drift? Maybe he was in such a shock, a shock not feesable to some others eyes so, they just called him abnormal. Instead of a special case of emotional dramatic trauma.
Of course they didn't know of his past. Once, he had a chance to change that life that he knew. His life was solitude, acting as if he was this perfect male, a perfect prince. To not show how he ever felt. That was a long time ago. His father may have been a brute but he was an effortless, royal brute. And he fallowed in his fathers footsteps. What was that fact, of happiness or lifeless drifting, was there a secret inbetween? The fact.. the fact that he couldn't remember it all, that he'd rather not even remember that ragged life he lead. When he once had that chance for freedom he ran with it, and why not? What else is freedom but an unimaginable feeling.
Though yes, there was a secret in between such, uncontrolable emotions. The secret he would never tell anyone, a secret that may as well die with him as it almost did that day. Why I lived with the sharks? I was disowned. The first chance for freedom he ever had came at the expense of losing his mother. An illness scarred her body, inside and out pink sores ate away at her flesh like piranhas. And his father blamed him. He sent him to fight the sharks, just in hopes that he would dissapear, or die.
And he came back with blood fallowing in floods, stuck to his and dispersing into the water. Like a dog on his scent the blood fallowed.
The first battle was the one that sent him reeling, there was that adrenalin pumping through him, though all he remembered were faint flashes on large shark teeth and ravenous movements.
detailed short story [600 words max] about a battle with a shark:
The Greenland sea was cool as it always was, the shadows above speckled the deep water below the surface with shadows. The shadows from above the water, where the soothing ice chunks passed, lulling the water tops with their his on water, On and on they drifted with a pale violet blue and pink sky behind them. With such a beautiful and odd scene set placidly in place you wouldn't expect a scraggly looking adventurer to come passing by, swimming with all the commodities of awkwardness..
He passed as if he wasn't even there, as if anyone who came around him could see him, maybe try to communicate but all he'd do is keep walking like he was in a different world. A completely different world. A world turned upside down as its eyes, his eyes, watched the real world as if in a dream. He was out of reality, he had gone from ownership, owned by power to freedom, beautiful freedom. Awkward freedom. He stiffly set his paw onto a soft stone, as if not sure what to believe, and stared out blankly.
"What am I doing here?" Of course, he spoke to himself. He'd done that since he was a toddling babe, barely able to make up words, and his father despised it. He'd always tell him to stop, to eat up his words and be quiet but habits are like hiccups. They have a way of pushing their way through even when you try holding them back. And when old enough to understand his fathers banter and ridiculing complaints he said "Who best to talk to than your own self?" He had no way of answering himself. What was he doing there?
Out of the corner of his eye a different shade of gray appeared, something just a little more large and a lot more curious. It came close, and he wafted back. Then closer and closer it came, this was the area of the sharks so one would be here. But the trepidation of his heart made him sure to know that even though he had come here willingly, blindly but willingly, it did not mean he did not have great fear.
--
-[center]3 extras
Extra two---
But then again who could pronounce those words here to speak them, he was the oldest of the many lot that enhabited Greenland. Of his speacies he was the eldest, surviving. They could put whatever name they wanted on him as they pleased, it eased the tension of sociability with the younger folk, that he could not understand and forsakenly cursed something, whatever that something may be, for it.
The communication was warped, with a database of misused words and awkward speaking tensions. Waht were they saying? Half way through he atoped understanding what he was saying. So he cursed whatever he could curse for that fact. A normal every day rock just sitting there, as it had been for thousands of years even before, well, "I curse thee. You stupid rock, you. May you die in the hole you've currently in" or, maybe a bubble of water sprouting from the ground? Such ungodly things, curse them just because they were there when conversation was in a marooning state. But then again when wasn't it?
Half the sea had been cursed by him. Though who could blame him, with an introvert temper as he possessed? When you felt as if you were sinking from the left side, underneath the water wile you just stood there, you mite want to curse a few things within good contentment.
Once my father gave me a gift.
From crazy obsessive memory.
His father had given him a "gift" soon afterwards, a gift forged on memory. Crazy obsessive memory. A sculpture of his mother.
Made from-
Shark cartalidge-stuff--teeth[/center]
personality:
The personality creates the name
"Bahh, I could care less."
He told me to be strong. To fight strong. They all kept chanting words of
his wrong doings, they all said that no one came back from the Land of the dead. Though back then they called it the home of the sharks back then. Shark waters. He being the child of such a male had no right in living, he had no right to a mother, that should never have been made to love if she loved him,
"And when I have become king you will be mine."
They called him everything, they could call him everything and anything and they did. It seamed his name was forgotten within the fog of fake names given to him. Artemis. Artemis Trurose. Maybe it could have been written in neat letters to the side of a page, filled with beautiful pictures. Or maybe... beautiful words. He had such an artful name. He was destined for greater things but then life got in the way. And sometimes there was just no fighting the current.
Extra one:
Theme music-
Extra two: Into the depth.
habits
movements
walking
Way of speaking
voice
Scent:
Touch:
This Mako is smooth yet rugged, there are marks all over his body and even the parts you think as smooth, are riddled with marks, bumps and indents. His body is very loose and lagging, and all of his movements reflect that. Whenever he moves or touches something he has a way of
Taste:
Appearance:
Shark bites on tail- and on back fin, damage to eye done by shark shoving him against a stoney wall and dragging him across. His eyes was severly damaged and two sharp, edges caught and ripped him around the eye. The smaller scratches healed, there are only small bumps and indents when you feel against his skin, but the worst injuries left deep marks. Memories.
