[Downn]

Name:
Gender:
9 personality words:
Scar:
Art:
Story:

reserve reserve reserve reserve
yes omg

[Rockpelt]

Name:
Gender:
9 personality words:
Scar:
Art:
Story:

Reserved~ ouo

[Birchwood Hollow]

Name:
Gender:
9 personality words:
Scar:
Art:
Story:

Reserved!

[paperman]

reserve

[Evil Muffin Overlord]

Name: Terica
Gender: Female
9 personality words:
Scar: A series of scratches all along her throat, small and large, deep and shallow, skinny and fat, all together rendering her mute. Also, the same assortment on her front upper arms, and three long, deep gouges on the left side of her snout.
Art:
Story: Not gonna try to write it right now, but here's the gist of it:
Her sibling(Most likely a brother, though it might also be a friend) was being attacked, so Terica jumped in front of the younger bean, trying to protect them. The beast used its long claws to bat away her head, and then shredded up her neck and arms in the frenzy of battle. Still needs polishing and the like, but, its all there...

Keplyn

Testing 123
Testing 123
Testing 123
Testing 123
Testing 123

[icseal]

reserved ; u ;

[wickedfoul]

→ Name:

➥ Ashki Da Santoro

→ Gender:

➥ Male

→ 9 personality words:

➥ || Selfish | Bitter | Blunt | Arrogant | Vain | Independent | Sly | Jaded | Lonely ||

→ Scar(s):

➥ Ashki has a total of three small knicks on his ears(one on his right ear, two on his left), as well as a newer scar running up from his right nostril and reaching to the top of his muzzle, all from numerous blows to the head during fights. He has two parallel gashes across his stomach with a single one running through them, which he received while infiltrating a household.

→ Story: anthro. minor violence. stomach scars story

➥ Ice blue pierced jet black in the middle of the night. Ashki Da Santoro slunk through the door after successfully picking it without a sound. He wouldn't be heard during this thieving session, he was sure of it. He was never heard. Never heard, never seen, and he liked it that way. Items would disappear without a trace-Ashki was careful when at work-, and their owners would assume they were just lost, somewhere throughout the house. They were wrong.
Ashki's boots made a soft tapping on the kitchen tile, but the sound wouldn't be heard as the household residents slept. Soft blue light filtered into the room from the window above the sink, and Ashki looked around, squinting at the clock hanging above the doorway, the scar on his left nostril straining, but he barely noticed the sting anymore. It was a quarter to three in the morning. Ashki walked through the doorway and into the livingroom where numerous paintings hung up on the wall. They could be valuable, but Ashki wasn't going for "could be".
Ashki was raised into this life by his father, alongside a sister. He was taught that if you need something, you take it, and right now, he was in a low place and needed the money. He tried not to feel guilty about stealing things anymore. He needed these things more than they did. He searched the room, silently yanking his backpack off and slowly started to load things into the bag.
The floorboards behind him creaked in the silence. He dropped the bag and twisted around, pulling his knife from his belt. Ashki held his blade a foot from his face, his eyes searching the dark. He heard a familiar clicking noise on the wood and cursed sharply under his breath, his suspicions confirmed as a hound turned the corner, growling through its teeth, it's top lip pulled back in a snarl. A dog, a mastiff. There was always something.
He flexed his arms and bent his knees, keeping his left hand close to his chest as his right held the gun. Without warning, the dog's haunches bent and it sprung towards Ashki, letting out a large grunt. Surprised by the weight, Ashki toppled over, crushed by the immense weight of the dog. It tore at his stomach, once, twice, three times, ripping his shirt clean open and leaving a spotting trail of crimson. He clenched his jaw, suppressing his screams and hit the dog in the chest with the butt of his knife, throwing it off of him. The dog hit the doorway with a loud whine and Ashki quickly ran out, leaving his pack, -which thankfully contained nothing other than the owners items-, holding his arm to his stomach. He may have left a trail, and he knew the dog could track him, but at this point he wasn't thinking. He sprinted into the woods, his vision dotted with black, green, red, and other colors he couldn't register.
Ashki started up a tree once he thought he was far enough, every muscle in his body tight with pain and frustration. He grit his teeth and lowered himself onto a high, thick branch, his chest heaving. He was loosing blood.
He tore off fabric from his pants, and though it wasn't much, he held them over the gashes, keeping pressure. He had to make it through the night, he had to. He tipped his head back against the trunk of the tree, letting out a grunt of frustration. A dog. He was bested by a dog. If he lived, the scars would leave massive marks. Marks of defeat. Long, nasty, ugly scars. He glanced down at his stomach. A short wave a shame washed over him, quickly replaced by anger, and his breath hissed through his teeth. There were a total of three gashes through his stomach, two going from his right side to the left, and a third going down diagonally in between the two. He sighed; if it had been any straighter, it wouldn't have been able to be stitched. Stitches. He needed stitches. He needed help. He glared into the sky; Ashki didn't want help. So he wouldn't get it. Maybe he could steal from a store once he healed a bit, take some fishing pole wire. Though it wasn't the best, it would have to do.
Get through the night. That's all. Just get through the night. he thought as sleep beckoned him. He slowly let it take him, a plan on his mind. He would get through the night.

→ Art:
➥

[Ｌᴀᴅʏ 美夜子]

Code: Select all

Scar:
Art:
Story:(700 word limit)
here to help:  loyal, wise

[color=#BFBFBF][left][size=85][quote]testttt[/quote][/size][/left][/color]
[center][size=200][color=#696969]♚[/color][/size]
[img]http://fontmeme.com/newcreate.php?text=%20Chiharu.&name=MissBrooks.ttf&size=40&style_color=40BFBF[/img][/center]
[center][color=#1c1816]◤[/color][color=transparent]SomethingSomethingSomethingSomethingSomething[/color][color=#1c1816]◥[/color]

[color=#40BFBF]Ｔ[/color]ｈｅ [color=#BFBFBF]•[/color] [color=#A69682]Ｓ[/color]ｔｒｏｎｇ [color=#BFBFBF]•[/color] [color=#405761]Ｓ[/color]ｉｌｅｎｔ [color=#BFBFBF]•[/color] [color=#A3834D]Ｔ[/color]ｙｐｅ [color=#BFBFBF]•[/color]

[color=#1c1816]◣[/color][color=transparent]SomethingSomethingSomethingSomethingSomething[/color][color=#1c1816]◢[/color][/center][right][img]http://flont.veer.com/flontpng.aspx?text=r&size=48&maxWidth=540&fontId=9338&lineheight=58&backcolor=01FFFFFF&color=FF405761&wrap=false&tracking=0[/img][quote][size=85]Once bitten, twice shy.[/size][/quote][size=85]» [color=#40BFBF]ｎａｍｅ[/color];;
千春, or Chiharu in english. Chiharu
means ' one-thousand springs"
I chose this name for him
because it is beautiful and
it fits his personality and story.

[color=#A69682]ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ[/color];;
» silent-
Chiharu is very quiet.
He doesn't like to
innterupt people
when they are talking.
He rarely ever starts
a conversation. He
will reply if neccesary
but he won't talk much
otherwise.

» outcast-
Chiharu is quite the
outcast. He is not very
sociable; not making
friends easy. He doesn't
belong to a stereo-type
group. He always sits
alone. The others
reject him because of his
scars. They will nev accept
him, except for his friends.
But he has a very limited circle
of friends.

» shy-
Chiharu is very shy.
He won't go up to
anyone. He looks down
when he is being talked
to or making a reply.

» compassionate-
Chiharu is very compassionate
but not many know this because
no one gets to know him. It doesn't
phase him. If he gets to know you,
he will care and love your forever.
What many don't realize is that,
however they may be mean to him...
Chiharu will always show compassion
towards those he trusts.

» artistic-
Chiharu is a very artistic persona.
He loves the little things and loves
to draw. He loves oil-painting. His
favorite picture he ever drew was
an oil-painting of the stars and
the meadow by his house. He is
also a very good photographer.
He has a sketchbook full of
drawings he has never showed.
He says he is 'waiting to show them
to the right person.' As of right now,
that is unclear what that means. Bu
it may have something to do with a
special love-interest?

» strong-
Chiharu is strong. Not physically,
but mentally. He has had his
hardships. But he pulls through.
He edures everything. He has the
weight of the world on his sholders.

» hopeful-
Chiharu is a very hopeful kinda guy.
He always hopes for the best. But
that is not always a good thing. If he
has so much hope, it may not work out.
But he still keeps his hopes up.


[/size][/right]

















[img]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0KukH6kP4I/UGrzTRZ-cqI/AAAAAAAAAHU/EJnzpx7QYAE/s1600/tumblr_m39bg8rvKv1ruxvo7o1_500_large.jpg[/img]








[center][size=85][color=#BFBFBF]ｓｔｏｒｙ[/color];;
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700/700 words

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[/size][/center]

[littlytiny]

Dropping, I haven't had the muse to finish this form and don't feel much of a connection. Congrats to the winner! <3

[QUITTING.PLZTAKEPETS]

Reserve