[Olijter]

Name;; Riley

Nickname;; Ri

Gender;; Male

Orientation;; Bisexual

Birthday;; July 13th

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Riley’s favorite place in the world is a paint-splattered brick masterpiece. He calls it the wall. This is because it is, as a matter of fact, a brick wall.
His first encounter with it was years ago, when he was walking home from an art supply store. He had just received a canvas for his birthday and could not wait to fill it up with the newly bought paint. As he looked on the horizon, Riley could see the sun slowly setting. If he got home when it was dark out, his parents were sure to be upset. He started into a jog, and decided to try a shortcut, through the abandoned factory grounds. It belonged to no one, just kind of sat there like an eerie grey landmark. He ran through it, not even noticing it when his bag ripped on a fence and the new paints and brushes came spilling out. Riley got home on time, but the relief was short-lived when he saw that his new supplies were all gone. He concluded that they must have fallen out when he had run through the factory. But it was dark out, and he couldn’t go back to get them.
The following morning, Riley hopped out of bed and ran to the factory yard again to get his paints. He retraced his steps until he saw them, lying on the ground, untouched. As he stepped forward to retrieve them, he couldn’t help but notice what lay in front of him. Others would see a crumbling brick wall, but Riley saw more than that. He saw a blank canvas. He cocked his head and squinted his eyes, envisioning an art piece painted on that very wall. Then he picked up his paintbrushes and got to work.
He really didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but it felt right. A stroke there, toss some paint over there. Orange, yellow, green, blue, white. A dash of black here and there. The time passed in a blink of an eye, and when he looked up at the sun, it was already setting. He stepped back to look at his art, which was barely started. “I’ll be back,” he whispered to the wall, gathering up his supplies and walking home again. When he got home, his family asked him where he had been, but he just responded with a knowing smile and the vague response of “around,” They asked him again and again, but thought that if he told them about it, the wall would lose its magic.
And sure enough, he kept coming back to that wall, day after day. He looks at it after every painting session and admires his work, but always knows that it is not done. Some days, he won’t paint. He will just sit in its shade and relax. The wall holds a special place in his heart, and that it why it is his favorite place in the whole world.
Word count; 494 words

[Froas]

Username;;
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Favorite place and why;; { 500 words }
Personality;; { 550 words }
Poem;;
Art;;
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reserve <3

[toady]

Username;;
Name;; Percy
Favorite place and why;; { 500 words }
Personality;; { 550 words }
Poem;;
Art;;
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[ADVENDIR »]

Res

Username;;
Name;;
Favorite place and why;; { 500 words }
Personality;; { 550 words }
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[carmineflyer]

Username:
.Flyer.

Name:
Second

Is this my name?
I cannot recall,
All I can remember,
Is the feeling,
Of falling,
Falling,
Downwards.
Never to return.

Journal:
The seconds tick by...
...
Could this be my second chance?...
To make things right...

Favorite Place: {286/500}
There is a cave... I must have stumbled into it to have woken up inside... But I cannot recall this. But the emotions I feel as I walk inside, they come from a Second that was not second, but first. There is loneliness, fear, and yet the feeling of safety inside. The fear has faded when I could not find its source, and the cave has simply become my place of refugee in this ocean of a forest, in the ocean that is my fear and the unknown. I can think of no other place I should be, save the nagging thoughts in my mind... But those are infrequant, and I cannot rely on mere dreams to guide me to where ever I was meant to be in this world.

Second woke up in a cave, the walls dripping water, the ground as far from a hotel mattress as you could get. But he had a faint feeling of security inside it, a memory that just couldn't break to the surface. Since it is the only place he can ever feel at home in, he has stayed there, never wandering far, always returning to its safety, its sanctuary. There are memories that struggle to emerge in its depths, and he hopes that in staying here, they will come to light someday.
But there is fear here too, in the form of the unknown mask that is one of the stranger things Second awoke too. There is fear in the unknown, for he does not know how he came to be here.
But a home may always have these unknowns, and since it is all Second has ever known, it is what he had come to love.

Journal:
Lost, lonely, perhaps forgotten? But who should care if I disappear? No one is left that cares. So why shouldn't I press on?
There is a cave that I can use as a base... It will serve well if something should go wrong.
I'm still going to explore the surrounding area. There could be any number of things, just waiting to be uncovered...

Personality: {394/550 words}
“I hold a beast, an angel and a madman in me, and my enquiry is as to their working, and my problem is their subjugation and victory, downthrow and upheaval, and my effort is their self-expression.”
-Dylan Thomas
There seems to be three people inhabiting this kiamara's body. The beast, he comes out when Second is cornered, as no where to go. This side of Second is harsh, and fights only for himself, and answers to no other. Another side of Second is the angel. The angel is the side seen the second most, and comes out for company. It is here that Second is at his best, for he is kind, perhaps a little shy, and is always willing to help out, be the "good guy" in any situation. The last side is seen most often, for the madman in Second comes out when he is alone. This Second rages against the world, plots mad schemes that mean nothing to anyone but him, and rambles on of words and sentences Second has never heard nor known of. This is, however, the side he loves most, for this is the side, as it babbles its meaningless words, that touches upon the old Second, the first Second. The plots the madman awakens have since led to places Second knew not that he knew. But there are also things the madman shouts that Second hopes will never be true...
A necklace,
Hanging in its rightful spot,
It holds things,
I do not know.
The claw of some beast,
Cruel and sharp,
An ever ticking clock,
That keeps time,
Of all my days,
In this awful,
Cursed cave.
And a carefully folded,
Paper heart.
That must hold,
All I ever stood for.

Journal:
I feel... Something. Something is not right. The days spent in this forest, this cursed forest... They are changing me. There are times when I wish the world to burn, there are times that I wish to tear my enemies apart, piece by piece and watch them suffer what I have suffered... Yet the old me cries out in fear as he tries to make things right again...
The balence has been upset. I know not that any or all will notice, or if this is just another of the madman's visions... But if it is, I will fight it with all my heart.

Poem:
The sound of silence,
Is the whisper of leaves
In a soft summer breeze.
The sound of silence,
Is the brush of feather on feather,
As the bird takes flight,
The sound of silence,
Is hearing the soft howl of the wind,
As it sweeps through the trees.
The sound of silence,
Is the sound of loneliness.
The way you always know,
Yours will be the only footprints on the path.
The sound of silence
Is the sound of the cage,
You build up upon yourself,
As you stand alone in the world.

The Mask
{578/700}
Second lay fitfully dreaming as the night wore on, never awake nor asleep, always in between, never remembering, never comprehending. This was how he spent all his nights, ever since he woke to find that he was alone...

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
-Edgar Allan Poe

I stumbled into the cave, seeking any shelter from... That thing. That thing that has hounded me for far too long... I need to end it, else it will end me. I am an explorer, not a fighter... I just want to collapse, give up and let that thing take me. I have been running for too long.
The air chills behind me, it feels as if it is crystallizing into ice. A rattle, a hiss, and the indescribable sound of its vapor-like body as it slithers towards me. I have long since learned not to beg for mercy, a creature such as that that stands in front of me knows none. No emotion is shown on the mask that is its face, a fiery mane that swirls around it, my own blood and the own creatures golden fluid mix on the face as black as night to create the monster that stands before me, catlike in its face, yet a demon is the only thing that I can find anyplace else I look on my enemy.
It shrieks at me, renting the air as it slashes the deadly black talons that I have felt myself, tearing at my leg only a few hours before. It moves towards me with the speed of a thousand winds, and I cry out in fear, rolling to the side as I feel it sweep by me in a deadly stroke. It will kill me if I do not think of something... But what? As I scrabble around looking for anything, anything to use as a weapon, I feel the ice cold of the beast again, and then pain. It burns cold, and I scream, jerk away, and feel the pain rip down my chest, and all I can think is: This is it. I am going to die now. I feel remorse at all the things I should've down with my life... At the very least, I wish I could say good-bye to her before I go...
But wait. The beast stands over me, as if gloating, and I fear a final blow... But no. It lets out a triumphant shriek, and dissipates into the air, the mask clattering to the ground, the vapor of its body flowing around me, jamming itself into the wound until there is nothing left. I can only stare at the once deadly wound, now fully healed, black in color around it... Is the beast inside me now?
Panic is now coursing through me, but I cannot run, I can't walk, my body is limp and darkness is eating at my vision... But I have to stay awake... I have to stay awake... I have too-
Second awoke with a start. Daylight was streaming through the cave opening. He sat up, trying to remember his dream... It had been something, some memory that inspired a great fear, and yet recognition, something that his memory strained to remember, and yet eluded his grasp...
Ah, but who was he to dwell on mere dreams? Today was a new day, and he had many things to do...

Art:

The Mask By me
A lonely cave... By Sailor Doge
The Angel in Me By LithiumTrumpet
Just a tad unsure... By Supr epic!
Little Sketch By Blackbird.
My spirit flies on on hooves that run so much faster then I could ever dream of... By Karacel
The Madman

By urwow9

[Little Fish]

yupp dropped

[Sable.]

ｒｏｕｎｄ ａｎｄ ｒｏｕｎｄ

ｉ ｗｏｎ’ｔ ｒｕｎ ａｗａｙ ｔｈｉｓ ｔｉｍｅ

ｔｉｌｌ ｙｏｕ ｓｈｏｗ ｍｅ ｗｈａｔ ｔｈｉｓ ｌｉｆｅ ｉｓ ｆｏｒ

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username ✎ ; My username is Sable, you may have seen me around the fanclub. I currently own 5 beautiful kiamaras (Northern, Fern, Lupe, Avalynn and Tide) and hope to bring gorgeous Bailey here home as my sixth.

name ✎ ; This boy's name is Bailey ( bay - lee )

The name Bailey's origin is an English occupational name, it means "law enforcer, bailiff." His name doesn't have any special reasons to it, he was named after a great-grandfather on his mother's side though; they just thought the name suited their little baby boy at the time. He himself loves the name and wouldn't change it, but regularly gets called nicknames like Bay, Bales or Bailee-boy which he doesn't mind a bit.

ａｎｄ ａｆｔｅｒ ａｌｌ ｗｅ ｌｅｆｔ ｉｎ ｐｉｅｃｅｓ
ｉ ｓｔｉｌｌ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ ｏｕｒ ｌｉｖｅｓ ｈａｖｅ ｊｕｓｔ ｂｅｇｕｎ

From here, just working on content. hopefully to be coded soon .o.<3

favoruite place
Bailey's favourite place is different from him; a free-spirited individual with a bright outlook on life. It is an old abandoned train station, a simple structure of a long roof with wooden beams keeping it help upright, and a small dusty tickety booth nestled next to it. A once shiny engine stands forgotten on slowly rotting wooden tracks, their paint chipped and headlights to shine never again. Spindly grey-green weeds creepy between cracks in the concrete and silver cobwebs cling to the old ticket booth, sprinkled with the dust of old memories. On the opposite side of the tracks, a once successful apple orchard stands, the skeletons of the old fruit trees lie between a field of wild flowers and tall grasses where once used to be a well manicured lawn underneath the shade of the leaves. Nothing very much lives there any more, mostly spiders or insects in the grasses and a small number of crows.

Bailey has fond memories of the place, and whenever he's home to visit his parents he stops by the station and just sits on the bench, feeling nostalgic while the fond memories surface in his mind. As a child, he and his brother Finnegan used to spend hours together exploring the surrounding area and playing make-believe in the old train, sometimes Bailey would be the engineer, but which ever way around it was he loved the game. Finn would study the variety of plants growing on the tracks and in the opposite field while Bailey would sketch out scenes of what it might have looked like in its day, and make stories of people who were there. One man was farewelled by his wife as he got on the train, but never again did his footsteps cross the station. One was a confused young postman trying to find an address he was unsure about. "The station master" as Bailey called it, was a crow that was there, ready to take any food scraps the boys would throw to it. Bailey imagined the crow guarded over the old station and it was good luck whenever they saw the crow. The ticket booth used to act as a secret hide-out for them, mostly Bailey, but he would stock it with pencils and papers, whittling away the hours of the day drawing.

Bailey is adamant that there's no other place in the world he loves more than this old train station he has come to know as "Finn and Bailey Station." When times get a little rough or he's feeling a little down he can just remember times at the station or pull out some old photos of him and his family goofing around in the train station on one of their birthdays and then everything seems a little better to him. He wants to make sure his children, should he have any, will one day see it and wishes the magic he found there as a child will be found by someone else one day.

[500/500 words]


Favorite place and why;; { 500 words } ballroom?
Personality;; { 550 words }
Poem;;
Art;;
Extra;;

[Lanana]

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♛ ＣＯＮＮＯＲ ♛

[ username: Lana. | kiamara's name: Connor | gender: male ]

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❝ favorite place ❞
98 words

Connor's favorite place is rather secret. There's a local beach near his home, and if you walk for long enough, you'll find that there's more than just sand and sea. Behind a line of trees is a grassy area, and in that area is a large hill. The hill is Connor's favorite place because, as a kid, he and his friend used to often go there and just play around, chatting about random stuff and rolling down the hill. It brings back a lot of memories and reminds him of the friend, who he hasn't seen in years.



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❝ personality ❞
348 words

LAIDBACK
Connor is a very cool and relaxed kiamara. When something bad occurs, he just shrugs it off, claiming "it could be worse" or "it wasn't important anyway". He's very patient, adding to his calm and collected demeanor.

TEASING
Connor isn't a very serious kiamara. He's always joking around and playfully teasing others, pulling pranks on people if he feels up to it. He loves having a laugh, even if it's at himself, and will do anything to make himself or others laugh.

CHARMING
Flirtacious. Charming. Alluring. Connor possesses all of these traits, with his undeniably attractive smile and manipulative charm. When a pretty lady passes by, Connor will quickly be by her side, spitting compliments out every three seconds and making flirtacious comments.

DIM
Although Connor did absolutely fine so-so in school, passing all his classes (barely), he doesn't have much common sense. He seems to lack in logic, starting arguments over a simple thing with an obvious answer. The fact that he hates admitting he's wrong only makes him seem MORE dim!

PERSISTENT
Never, EVER, will Connor give up. If he sets himself a challenge or a goal, he will persevere till he accomplishes it, no matter what. Most find that he's rather foolish because of this, but other would respect this, as every time he fails, he picks himself up and tries again.

SHORT-TEMPERED
If you get on his nerves, Connor can be a little... well, let's just say he can get a bit out of hand. If you only slightly tick him off, he'll probably snarl at you, and then ignore you for a little bit. But if you REALLY piss him off, Connor will blow up, yelling and cussing at you, and- if it's really that bad- he'll throw a few punches.

PROTECTIVE
Connor is very protective over those he loves. He'd do anything to make them happy, no matter the price. If they're feeling down, he'll do whatever he can to cheer them up. if someone harasses them, he'll be quick to confront them and give them a piece of his mind.



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❝ poem ❞
249 words

[sestina poem from connor to his mother]

Every night I used to wish upon a star
That maybe one day things would be different
And be how they used to, before
When you would hold me close
Envelope me in your arms
And set fire to all my problems

When I left, my life became so full of problems
Problems more frequent than a night star
Stretching out like a pair of arms
Making me seem so different
So far from this world, but to my own, close
Giving me an aura nobody's ever seen before

When I was with you, years before
I thought my life was rid of problems
Because when you would hold me close
And tell me I was your little star
Your star who stood out, different
I'd always be safe in your arms

But I have vanished from your arms
Things are so different from before
A nasty different
Because I have so many problems
Problems more frequent than a night star
A night star too blinding to keep close

Sometimes, I think, if I had held YOU close
Held YOU close, tucked in my arms
YOU could be my little star
And I'd comfort YOU before
They came back, those problems
And things now would be different

But maybe I don't need it to be different
Maybe I don't need you to hold me close
Because I can just embrace my problems
Hold them in my arms
Because now, unlike before
Each of them are nothing but a star



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❝ story ❞
700 words

[featuring the lovely vanellope, with permission from moonskye]

"Connor, take a seat."

As much as I wanted to yell at her for bossing her around, I realized it'd be wiser to just obey. I sat in one of the recliners and leaned back, watching her every move. Her eyes were cold and she seemed to be taking very deep breaths. I knew this method all too well... she was trying to calm down. But calm down over what...?

"Connor, I heard about your suspension."

My eyes met hers. I expected to see disappointment, but saw anger and hatred. "It wasn't my fault!" I exclaimed angrily, standing. "He was the one that punched me first! I was defending myself!" My mother was also on her feet. Despite how intimidated I was, I refused to shrink back. I could win this fight.

"Bull," she snarled, taking a step towards me.

I was beyond angry at that. My mother didn't believe me. Her ONLY child. "Why don't you believe me, mom? Are you such a cow that you don't trust your own son?" I demanded, taking a step forwards and pointing an accusing finger at her. "Why should I believe a lying, selfish, brat?" she shot back. "Well if you hate me, I don't see why I should stay here," I growled, turning away. My mother sniffed. "I don't see why, either."

And with that, I ran to my room, packed a bag, and jumped out the window.

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I looked down as I walked, my hood concealing his face. It had been a decade since I'd last seen my mum, and I wasn't looking forward to the upcoming encounter. Of course, she didn't know I was coming- if she did she'd have called the police- which was why I had to make this brief.

I released a nervous sigh as I arrived at my destination. I closed my eyes and strolled up the pathway. Before I knew it, I was face to face with a large, wooden door. After a few deep breaths, I pushed the doorbell.

For a few moments, there was complete silence. Then, the sound of movement could be heard. The door opened.

"Connor?"

I didn't know whether it was said with anger, hurt, surprise, or happiness. My eyes drifted to the ground as I refused to look her in the eye.

"Connor, what are you doing here?" she demanded, stepping outside and carefully shutting the door behind her. For a split moment his eyes met my mother's, but the contact didn't hold for long.

"I... I was just wondering..." I began, my throat now dry, "if I could... maybe..." I twiddled my thumbs nervously.

"Well, spit it out," she said impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin. I squirmed uncomfortably, clearly not at ease under my mother's steady glare.

"Well, I was wondering if... if I could... b-borrow some... you know... money," I said, lowering my voice. My mother's eyes widened significantly. I quickly added, "only a little bit, though! One hundred and fifty should do! Besides, I'll pay you back when I get the mo-" but was unable to finish as I was slapped across the face.

I yelped, my hand springing to my cheek. Soon there would be a mark there.

"How DARE you come to MY house after TEN BLOODY YEARS and DEMAND MONEY!" mum yelled, snarling viciously as me as I backed away. "I... I wasn't demanding..." I tried to say, but she wasn't having any of it. "Don't give me that crap! I'm not an idiot! Now get off my property before I call the police!"

Deep inside, I knew it would come down to this. I stomped away, hurt, angry, and unloved. After ten years, she still hated me. The more I thought about it, the more it upset me. I screamed in frustration, driving my hand into a brick wall. Ignoring the pain and agony, I ran to the only place I loved.

When I arrived, I wasn't expecting to see her. My eyes widened as I made my way through the long grass and clambered up the hill. Hearing noises behind her, she turned around and gasped. "C-Connor!" she said, to which I smiled. "Vannie."



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❝ art credit ❞



x by .Autumn.
x by KatieisaPanda
x by Firefly.
x by EveAngel
x by CrazyClaw+
x by CrazyClaw+


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[mulder]

-keeping character idea for later uwu-
congrats!

[whisky]

Username;; Whisky
Name;; Michael
Favorite place and why;; { 500 words }
Personality;; { 550 words }
Poem;;
Art;;
Extra;;