The yokai of Japan have a good thing going for them blending in with the humans. It would be a shame if some bad or careless people ruined it for all of them. And that is why Hatano Reformery School was created 50 years ago. While troublesome adults can be 'dealt with', tying cinder blocks to a minor's legs and tossing them into Tokyo Bay just seems cruel. So yokai youngsters who are considered an exposure risk (whether on accident or on purpose) are packed up and sent off to the secluded boarding school to learn how to better blend into human society. It has a high success rate (probably helped by the official motto of 'graduate or just die already'), but this year they're adding something new!
Humans!
No more life in an echo chamber! This year the school will let in humans to further cultural understanding and let the more unstable yokai grow accustomed to being around them in small doses before being let back out into the world again. Will this gamble pay off? The dean has bet a lot of money, so it better!
[attr="class","freiwanttmid"]FACE CLAIM tighnari from genshin impact
[attr="class","freiwantttop"]ABOUT THE CHARACTER
[attr="class","freiwanttbot"]
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[break][break] replace the sprites above with the starter pokemon you have chosen using the starter pokemon point-buy system.[break][break]
[break] [break][break] 🐾 If he hears the joke "Bye(Bai), See(chi) You(yu) later!" one more time he might explode. [break][break] 🐾 Pokemon > Humans any day. Chiyu wishes he'd been born a pokemon - people are so boring!! The only thing they have going for them are thumbs! At least with thumbs he can design and sew clothes for himself and any pokemon that catches his eye. ;A; [break][break] 🐾 Often times upon seeing Chiyu, the first thing someone thinks is 'what the hell is he wearing?' Unless he's on campus, in which case people usually take a drag of their coffee and go 'ugh, art students.' He's almost always in flashy, androgyn, outfits he made himself, which are fine on their own. But usually they're paired with pokemon features, most often a bushy tail and reactive ear headband. ...What's up with the ears and tail cosplay? Well, it's his pokesona! An original character (TM) do not steal!!!
freeform section here! feel free to write whatever.[break][break]
don't forget to use break codes! bold looks like this.
[attr="class","freiwanttmid"]FACE CLAIM kaveh from genshin impact
[attr="class","freiwantttop"]ABOUT THE CHARACTER
[attr="class","freiwanttbot"]
[break] [break][break]
★ Wren suffered injury to his spinal cord in the past, and, despite years of intense rehab, he still struggles with bouts of muscle fatigue and weakness. However, he is too tenacious and stubborn to rest like he should, and he will push himself past his limits often (to his doctor's intense irritation). [break][break] ★Sylveon serves as a sort of service pokemon to Wren, so he rarely takes part in battles. He helps Wren walk when he has trouble by looping his ribbons around him and supporting his weight. He also uses them to test his mood, knowing when to physically drag Wren away to a corner somewhere before he gets too manic or riled. [break][break]
★Wren's zigzagoon, named 'meatloaf', is as dumb as a brick as as likely to end up breaking through a window as one. She is responsible for 50% of Wren's stress. [break][break]
★Wren's cutiefly is a shy bean who hides in his hair and has never done anything wrong ever. she deserves the world. [break][break] ★ Wren is a brilliant mechanic and dabbles in inventing, though his rise towards recognition got cut off when he got severely injured on the cusp of breaking into the scene. Only now rehabilitated enough to work again, he is stuck doing small odd jobs and minor, basic mechanic work to make ends meet. [break][break] ★ Wren's parents are odd with names. They are essentially free spirited hippies. If you look at his birth certificate, you will see his name is actually even worse: 'Moondusted Wren Sings Winter'. Yes he did get teased a lot in school.
Some ideas! A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own.
[/s] [li]manakete cower[/li]seersha does the submissive display in a cowering mess to a poor confused manakete [li]protec[/li]seersha either saves someone or seersha gets saved in a thread. could be from a collapsed house, enemies, ect [li]animal fran[/li] seersha plays with your character's pet and gets caught. bonus if the animal is a viscious scary one normally [li]music friend![/li] he's been training as a bard the last few years, so knows some instruments. needs help transitioning from soprano to baritone [li]help him suck less[/li] someone with fighting experience helps seersha suck less in his new body [/ul][/spoiler]
“Do you, uh, y’know…” The client turned towards him, sweat beading his brow. The smell of nervous B.O mixed unfortably with the lavender oil and ozone-tinged scent of magic. With a sinking feeling, Liam knew what was about to come next.
“Do you offer, um, happy endings?” The man finally stammered, making a vague up and down motion with one hand. Liam removed his own from the man’s back, banishing the magic and taking one large step away.
“Nope, sorry sir.” He said. His voice was that of all professionals tasked to work with the public; an impenetrable wall of politeness. Even so, the client attempted a breach.
“Only, I heard… I’m willing to pay extra.” “I don’t do that.”Anymore. “You sure? Hmm, your name IS Liam, right?” “Out.” “But I-” “Out. Now. Or I’m calling your wife.” “Are you backmailin-”
Liam raised a hand, and the palm still slick with lavender oil started to steam and glow. The man jerked from the table, clutching the towel around his waist as he hastily gathered his clothes and fled. Liam heaved a sigh.
“I got a Mastery in black magic for this?” He grumbled.
He was finishing up sanitizing the massage table a few minutes later when his coworker Patricia stuck her head in. “Oh good, you’re done early?” She asked. Then she leered. “Your cop is back.” She winked. Butterflies broke through the unpleasant tightness in Liam’s stomach. The cop wasn’t his in the strictest sense. Not yet anyway. But it was nice to hear.
“Tell me you didn’t try your horrible British accent on him again.” Liam said, trying and failing to play it cool as he increased his cleaning speed by the power of ten. Patricia laughed, twirling a finger around one of her bottle-blond curls. “Of course I did! I said pip pip ‘ello govena. He looked like he wanted to die, it was great.”
“If he leaves, I’m setting your station on fire.” He flicked his fingers in her direction, a couple sparks of flame fizzling out well before they crossed the room.
“It might be worth trying to send him to one of the girls. So we could hear him stammer excuses.” She said in a sing song tone, before launching herself out of the doorway and down the hall. Liam looked in panic at the wet massage table. But well, he still had plenty of magic to waste left...
Less than a minute later Liam paused by the door to the lobby, smoothing down his blond curls and trying to make it look like he hadn’t run the whole way. Patricia’s shoulders were shaking, in silent mirth, but he ignored her. After one last steeling breath he opened the door--
And the breath was knocked from his lungs. Figuratively.
Fieval sat there, his back ramrod straight as always, despite the chinz chair. The shop girls had all wondered how many tea parties he’d had to sit through to get such posh posture, or if his parents had made him carry books on his head, because honestly the only time they’d seen English people were in Disney and Hallmark films. But Liam knew a large part of it was nerves. Even sitting still Fie somehow thrummed with nervous energy, and when it was just the two of them his perfect poise rapidly shattered… Liam blinked his own thoughts away, and approached.
There it was. The second Fie noticed him, his shoulders hunched and his hands started to fidget with the hems of his sleeves. His foot began to tap.
The shop girls didn’t understand Liam’s interest. “You’re way out of his league, honey. It’s just the accent.” They’d said to him, after Liam had buried his face into a pile of fresh towels and yelled about how he was going to marry that man. “He’s so far in the closet he’s in Narnia. Not worth it, sweetie.” They’d said another time. It was the first time he’d wondered if they were blind or stupid. Looking at the pink already tinging Fie’s cheeks, he wondered it again.
As usual, Fie’s back was like rock under his palms. “You need to relax,” Liam giggled, “Your doctor would be mad if I made everything worse instead of better.”
“Sorry.” Came the mumbled response. The muscles somehow became even more tense as he tried to make himself relax. Liam shook his head. With a smile, he set to work. For the first fifteen minutes he was stuck using light and soothing strokes until he was able to coax Fieval into relaxing enough that he could work on the knots. There were a lot, despite it only having been a week.
“I’m going to start, okay?” The back of Fie’s head bobbed in a nod, some of the tension returning. Liam huffed a sigh.
The scent of ozone crackled into the air as he summoned fire to one hand, a thin layer of intense heat. He dragged it down along the injured part of Fie’s back, prompting a hiss and twitch. A second later Liam had dismissed the fire and summoned the energy of ice to replace it, soothing the area he’d touched. The process continued. Fire and ice. Fire and ice. Fire and ice, until Fie was a boneless heap on the massage table. Liam wasn’t sure if it was relaxation or exhaustion.
He didn’t really know the science behind it. Whether it was the magic itself or the rapid combination of hot and cold, but this form of massage was becoming the go to for repairing muscle damage. All he did know for sure was that he was glad to have picked up such a skill, even though he’d initially learned it for less than pure reasons.
Fire and ice. Fire and Ice. In a way, they were his red strings of fate.
It was technically an eyrie, in the way a cardboard box someone lived in was a house. The outcropping in the black shale was small and awkwardly placed, facing the ocean with little protection from the sprays of brine the seabreeze smacked from the waves. It was lower than any self respecting member of his species would choose, where one large swell at high tide might someday sweep it all away. Even now, as the sun sank and water rose, he could stretch out and dip a claw into warm water.
Instead, Io readjusted one of his stones. It was a fruitless effort, like trying to shove the pieces from separate puzzles together, but some things simply had to be done. They ringed his nest loosely, all different sizes, as high as a couple feet in some places and a few inches in others depending on the success of the sandy grit cementing it. Holding his breath, he placed the latest stone into a possible slot. It was his best one yet, with a shimmering of purple along one side, a gem amongst coals. It fit neatly, and he trilled low in his throat - a purr like sound of contentment. It had no real chance of attracting a mate. Neither his plumage nor song were impressive enough to make up for the location or shabbiness of the materials, and he was the only one desperate enough to be on this sandy tourist dumpsite. None of his fellows would do more than fly over on the way to the better nesting sites.
The humans were making a fuss again, and Io ruffled the black and white feathers of his wings and legs, flexing his taloned feet anxiously. He brushed back his fringe of white hair, the clawed hands at the bend of his wings rough against his pale skin, and looked around the water dubiously. He couldn't see any of them swimming up towards him yet, but it happened regularly. By straining around he could see a sliver of the beach on either side for a long distance, and he did so now. The feathers dotted in his hair lifted in interest. They were leaving? More importantly... His eagle-eyes zoomed in on the discarded food, and he licked his sharp teeth with a black tongue.
He moved on hunger, the grumbling overriding caution and his usual timid nature. He scrambled up the cliff face for height to compensate for the weight of his growing display tail of glossy long feathers and leapt off - struggling to remain airborne before hitting a warm current which buoyed him up.
He waited until the humans had retreated far into the distance before he allowed himself to land. Though most humans feared harpies for justified reasons, Io knew he’d gained a reputation for being pathetic even among their kind. He wasn’t even venomous: wasn’t brave enough to hunt the food that would make him so.
But that food was far from his mind with the current buffet before him. It was all spread over a large striped blanket (a thrilling discovery - it would make the stone floor of his nest soft until the salt air claimed it), half eaten hot dogs and hamburgers and the colorful flat flakes Io hadn’t heard the name of. There were even cans that hadn’t yet been opened! Those gave him some trouble - his claws tearing the caps as he attempted to open them. Eventually he just bit into the side and slurped the wonderful fizzing stuff down.
His whole body shivered, his feathers fluffed out in a way that would make him look ridiculous to anyone else. His stomach ached from the sudden fullness.
Was this what humans called a picnic?
NOTES: brain is weird today lol. can i offer you a pathetic harpy in these trying times?
Thunderstorm
The sky broke; split apart by a jagged wire of lightning. The air crackled and simmered, and Finn felt static hiss against her skin and scales. The storm had swept in as if from nowhere. One moment clear blue skies and a gentle ocean and the next the horizon was bruised purple and the waves splashed in choppy jerks against the rocks. She looked at her companion. The other mermaid's eyes were wide; her naturally pallid skin bleached bone-white from exhaustion and fear. She looked ephemeral; nearly translucent. Her tail, which had surprised them both earlier by gaining golden tones and glimmers up in the sun, was milky transparent looking once more. Finn could see hints of her ribs, spine, and organs.
Deep sea mer were ghastly. Like ghosts, Finn’s tribe had always said. And she’d agreed.
But then she’d met Mikealangé.
She wasn’t part of the plan.
Go down, gain the trust of the sea witch’s coven, grab the crown, and make it home.
Alone.
But plans change.
“This isn’t a normal storm.” Finn said, instead of questioned. Mikealangé shook her head, the frills along her shoulders and ears bristling. Finn could feel her own more impressive set raise, unbidden. The magic was thick in the air, like fingers pinching across their skin. Thunder boomed and rolled like a drumbeat announcing the arrival of their upcoming death.
“I should have known they’d never let me go.” Mikealangé whispered, voice hoarse and small. “I”m sorry, Finn. I’m so sorry. I-”
“Stop.” It came out as a snarl. She was furious. Furious because she knew what Mikealangé was about to offer. Furious because she could tell she’d already given up hope. Furious because this was all Finn’s fault. Mikealangé sank lower onto the rocks, wilting and pale. Like a corpse. Her delicate fins had gone ragged in the open ocean during the days they’d been fleeing. They lay in ribbons, limp. She would never be able to weather the sea in a storm such as this.
A mighty wave slapped the rocks, drowning out even the thunder and spraying them with a mist of salt. Soon they’d be overtaken; scoured and swept into the vicious tides.
“No.” Finn snapped, bearing her fangs at the sky. She flattened her frills tight to her muscular body, and flexed her powerful tail. She pulled Mikealangé to hher, white scales stark against her glossy black. The deep sea mer tucked against her, eyes closed. She was murmuring something, her lips moving against Finn’s skin. But the words were drown through the cacophony of the howling winds and thunder. Finn lowered her head and caught the end.
“Thank you for letting me see the sun. I’ll alw-”
“No.” Finn snarled again, grip tightening and claws dimpling flesh. “You’ll see the sun again. We both will. When it rises tomorrow.”I won’t let you go.
NOTES: here have some lesbian mermaids
Lightning Bugs
Io had learned the following things about the flashing bugs.
They did not taste good. Like an acrid spot of bleah on his tongue.
If you smeared them upon your skin they did leave a glowy mark!
The glowy mark faded after mere seconds, requiring a constant reapplying which wasn’t worth it.
Their guts were stinky when smeared, and left a stiff sensation like a slug’s trail.
With his practical trials wrapped up, the harpy came up with the scientific conclusion that the bugs were only good for observation and aesthetics. Aesthetics. He liked the word. It was slippery and he’d just learned it. The girls with the sunglasses and clicky box that made pictures had said it a lot as they asked him to spread his wings and stay still. “Strike a pose!” They’d said. Io hadn’t known what a pose looked like, or why he’d attack it. Was it food? They’d laughed, but not in a mean way he was used to, and showed him what they’d meant.
“Omph, boy, you are peek aesthetic!” They’d said. Apparently aesthetic meant ‘mood’ and ‘pretty’.
Io had never been called pretty before.
Even now the memory made his tummy all warm, like he’d guzzled the blood from a fresh rabbit. Io liked it. He wanted to show the girl humans these bugs and the island. It wasn’t a long flight; even he’d made it without too much issue. Maybe the humans could take a boat out? Io had always wanted to ride on one: especially the ones that hauled in the huge nets full of fish. But those kinds had always sprayed him with jets of water out of tubes when he’d tried to approach, and clanged awful bells that made his eardrums scream.
Maybe a nicer boat instead. A small one that played the tunes and had picnics. Then he could strike a pose with food. That had to be peek aesthetics.
Io preened his wings with his claws, smoothing the primaries back into place in preparation to fly back to the shore. Gently he took the bundle of flowers and a shiny rock into his talons, and hoped that the girls would be back on the beach when the sun rose.
That would be so aesthetics.
NOTES: io's simple narration is fun
Hiking
At least Finn was enjoying the view. Not of the jungle, which was just a whole lot of nature shit. You see one leaf, you’ve seen them all. And what was more basic than a branch? Especially all these assholeish ones that kept spearing him in the sides and slapping back against his chest as he followed Michaelangelo, who seemed to have forgotten that whatever path he swathed through the forest wouldn’t be big enough for Finn to really fit through. The blond was talking now - chattering in his usual way, but Finn was happy to hear it was his enthusiasm-rambling instead of his nervous one. He’d mostly tuned out, something something dig site something something fossil, but it was hard to focus when just the other’s very voice soothed something inside him.
Plus, the view.
They were traveling at a slight incline, and Finn was happy to follow. Michaeangelo had lost some of the cushion in the weeks he they’d been apart, which was a little sad, but the lithe look was good too. Every look was good on him.
They reached another log that’d fallen across the trail, and Finn paused to fully appreciate the way his fiance scrambled over it.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Finn said, and it really was the opposite of complaining, “but are shorts good for traveling through underbrush?” Michealangelo looked down, like he’d forgotten what he was wearing.
“Various tribesmen native to jungle areas wear much less.” He mused. Finn could tell he was on the brink of expounding with trivia on who and what, so he headed him off by propelling himself over the trunk and stepping in close. He pulled a few errant twigs from Michelangelo’s hair, and the blond leaned into his touch.
“Wild pigs dragged my pants through the mud this morning,” he admitted, after a minute of silence basking in their closeness. Finn huffed a laugh. His fingers massaged Michaelangelo’s scalp for a moment, before he frowned.
“I think I found a tick.”
“Probably! We’ll have to do a thorough check for them once we get back to camp.”
“Looking forward to it.” And he was. It was going to be a very thorough check. The rest of the camp was going to hate him.
“Do you, uh, y’know…” The client turned towards him, sweat beading his brow. The smell of nervous B.O mixed unfortably with the lavender oil and ozone-tinged scent of magic. With a sinking feeling, Liam knew what was about to come next.[break][break] “Do you offer, um, happy endings?” The man finally stammered, making a vague up and down motion with one hand. Liam removed his own from the man’s back, banishing the magic and taking one large step away. “Nope, sorry sir.” He said. His voice was that of all professionals tasked to work with the public; an impenetrable wall of politeness. Even so, the client attempted a breach.[break][break] “Only, I heard… I’m willing to pay extra.” “I don’t do that.” Anymore. “You sure? Hmm, your name IS Liam, right?” “Out.” “But I-” “Out. Now. Or I’m calling your wife.” “Are you backmailin-”[break][break] Liam raised a hand, and the palm still slick with lavender oil started to steam and glow. The man jerked from the table, clutching the towel around his waist as he hastily gathered his clothes and fled. Liam heaved a sigh. “I got a Mastery in black magic for this?” He grumbled. [break][break][break][break] He was finishing up sanitizing the massage table a few minutes later when his coworker Patricia stuck her head in. “Oh good, you’re done early?” She asked. Then she leered. “Your cop is back.” She winked. Butterflies broke through the unpleasant tightness in Liam’s stomach. The cop wasn’t his in the strictest sense. Not yet anyway. But it was nice to hear.[break][break] “Tell me you didn’t try your horrible British accent on him again.” Liam said, trying and failing to play it cool as he increased his cleaning speed by the power of ten. Patricia laughed, twirling a finger around one of her bottle-blond curls. “Of course I did! I said pip pip ‘ello govena. He looked like he wanted to die, it was great.” “If he leaves, I’m setting your station on fire.” He flicked his fingers in her direction, a couple sparks of flame fizzling out well before they crossed the room. [break][break] “It might be worth trying to send him to one of the girls. So we could hear him stammer excuses.” She said in a sing song tone, before launching herself out of the doorway and down the hall. Liam looked in panic at the wet massage table. But well, he still had plenty of magic to waste left... [break][break][break][break] Less than a minute later Liam paused by the door to the lobby, smoothing down his blond curls and trying to make it look like he hadn’t run the whole way. Patricia’s shoulders were shaking, in silent mirth, but he ignored her. After one last steeling breath he opened the door--[break][break] And the breath was knocked from his lungs. Figuratively. [break][break] Fieval sat there, his back ramrod straight as always, despite the chinz chair. The shop girls had all wondered how many tea parties he’d had to sit through to get such posh posture, or if his parents had made him carry books on his head, because honestly the only time they’d seen English people were in Disney and Hallmark films. But Liam knew a large part of it was nerves. Even sitting still Fie somehow thrummed with nervous energy, and when it was just the two of them his perfect poise rapidly shattered… Liam blinked his own thoughts away, and approached. There it was. The second Fie noticed him, his shoulders hunched and his hands started to fidget with the hems of his sleeves. His foot began to tap. [break][break] The shop girls didn’t understand Liam’s interest. “You’re way out of his league, honey. It’s just the accent.” They’d said to him, after Liam had buried his face into a pile of fresh towels and yelled about how he was going to marry that man. “He’s so far in the closet he’s in Narnia. Not worth it, sweetie.” They’d said another time. It was the first time he’d wondered if they were blind or stupid. Looking at the pink already tinging Fie’s cheeks, he wondered it again. [break][break][break][break] As usual, Fie’s back was like rock under his palms. “You need to relax,” Liam giggled, “Your doctor would be mad if I made everything worse instead of better.” [break][break] “Sorry.” Came the mumbled response. The muscles somehow became even more tense as he tried to make himself relax. Liam shook his head. With a smile, he set to work. For the first fifteen minutes he was stuck using light and soothing strokes until he was able to coax Fieval into relaxing enough that he could work on the knots. There were a lot, despite it only having been a week. [break][break] “I’m going to start, okay?” The back of Fie’s head bobbed in a nod, some of the tension returning. Liam huffed a sigh.[break][break] The scent of ozone crackled into the air as he summoned fire to one hand, a thin layer of intense heat. He dragged it down along the injured part of Fie’s back, prompting a hiss and twitch. A second later Liam had dismissed the fire and summoned the energy of ice to replace it, soothing the area he’d touched. The process continued. Fire and ice. Fire and ice. Fire and ice, until Fie was a boneless heap on the massage table. Liam wasn’t sure if it was relaxation or exhaustion. [break][break] He didn’t really know the science behind it. Whether it was the magic itself or the rapid combination of hot and cold, but this form of massage was becoming the go to for repairing muscle damage. All he did know for sure was that he was glad to have picked up such a skill, even though he’d initially learned it for less than pure reasons. Fire and ice. Fire and Ice. In a way, they were his red strings of fate.
[attr="class","onlytimeright"]12. FIRE AND ICE
[attr="class","onlytimeimg"]
[attr="class","onlytimelyric1"]sure as the sun will cross the sky
[attr="class","onlytimelyric2"]FIR
[attr="class","onlytimeline"]
[attr="class","onlytimenotes"]
notes about your post can go here! it looks nice if you have a good couple of lines here, but you can really write as many or little as you want. you're on your own inside your room. you're claiming victory. you were just using, and there is no one you can use now.
If Shino was smart, he could capitalize on the fact he’s a total qt 4000. He could bat his thick lashes and drive men and women mad with the desire to protec. He could be instafamous. He could have like six sugar-parents. [break][break] Shino, however, was hit with big stupid. [break][break] Instead of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he’s like… Some sort of rabid weasel in sheep’s clothing. If you took all of the actual skill out of the weasel and just left the ferocity, size, and IQ. If he were in an RPG, these would probably be his stats. [break][break] Appearance:■■■■■[break][break] Skill: ■■■■■[break][break] Strength: ■■■■■[break][break] Intelligence: ■■■■■ [break][break] Oh well, he does his best… And still messes up most of the time. what's the point of really trying? [break][break]
He was born and spent the first few years of his life in a rough neighborhood in America, and he likes to tout it for street cred now (despite barely having actual memories there) that he lives in Japan. Being in a multicultural home (white mother, Japanese father), you would think that Shino would be fluent in two languages, but aforementioned Big Stupid means he’s kinda of just lacking in both: especially when it comes to reading and writing. He does have a very large vocabulary of nasty words and slang, because of course he does. [break][break] “What’s an American pet name for a girlfriend?” A classmate will ask. “P*ssyB!tch” he’ll answer. And then he’ll give himself away by laughing at his own joke for like three minutes straight.
[attr="class","nodensbot"]LOOKS LIKE CHARACTER FROM SERIES
One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked. "What's happened to me?" he thought.
It wasn't a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops
One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked. "What's happened to me?" he thought.
It wasn't a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops
A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own. A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own.
A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own.
Some ideas! A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own.
[/s] [li]manakete cower[/li]seersha does the submissive display in a cowering mess to a poor confused manakete [li]protec[/li]seersha either saves someone or seersha gets saved in a thread. could be from a collapsed house, enemies, ect [li]animal fran[/li] seersha plays with your character's pet and gets caught. bonus if the animal is a viscious scary one normally [li]music friend![/li] he's been training as a bard the last few years, so knows some instruments. needs help transitioning from soprano to baritone [li]help him suck less[/li] someone with fighting experience helps seersha suck less in his new body [/ul][/spoiler]
Friends! Seersha is a friend to animals! And the smaller and more animal-like your character is, the more likely they are to get his ‘must protect’ feelngs. However, he also was dependant on animals for companionship/solace growing up so they also will probably get a ‘pls protec me too’ kind of vibe from him. Particularly in for emotional problems. Let’s see… Patient and kind people, especially those who understand PTSD, work well with him. Those that can handle constantly giving encouragement to a hulking giant who is always looking like a kicked puppy.
Enemies! Manakete give him flashbacks, and his hairpin responses to them are anywhere on the fight, flight, freeze, friend responses. Usually he’ll try to run, but if he’s unable, he may attack your poor innocent manakete or just grovel at them. His tribe was the most extremist of extreme. This does depend on his mindset that day! Some days he’s more resilient and others he is weaker to the trauma that haunts him. He also doesn’t mesh well with anyone who treats him “as he ought to be”, as in people who assume he’s a huge tough guy who shouldn’t show emotion. Also the bigger and scarier you are, the more likely he is to be nervous. Big is relative to anything about what he used to be (5’) and not in relation to his size now. Also? Hurt animals like in the Colosseum? He hates you.
Romance! My fiance Drouva and I agreed a long time ago to only rp romance and all that kind of thing with each other. We know it’s not how most couples who rp roll, but it’s just what makes us most comfortable. : ) One-sided crushes are okay, but the other player has to remember that they won’t go anywhere and be okay with that. It’s good angst potential for your character, but I’d hate to hurt someone’s OOC feelings. But honestly your characters could all do a lot better than Seersha, ahaha. Pity Kino, tbh.
Some ideas! A shrinking violet bara beefcake that still acts like the shrimp he was for most of his life. Despite being something like 7’8”. Deeply traumatized, he has good days and bad days on his attempted road to recovery. Because of how his mood/mindset is very prone to fluxing up and down, it opens up the possibilities of different kinds of tones to any threads you wanna do. I’ll list some plot or thread or character ideas up here, and update them any time I think of more! But feel free to suggest your own.
[/s] [li]manakete cower[/li]seersha does the submissive display in a cowering mess to a poor confused manakete [li]protec[/li]seersha either saves someone or seersha gets saved in a thread. could be from a collapsed house, enemies, ect [li]animal fran[/li] seersha plays with your character's pet and gets caught. bonus if the animal is a viscious scary one normally [li]music friend![/li] he's been training as a bard the last few years, so knows some instruments. needs help transitioning from soprano to baritone [li]help him suck less[/li] someone with fighting experience helps seersha suck less in his new body [/ul][/spoiler]
Friends! Seersha is a friend to animals! And the smaller and more animal-like your character is, the more likely they are to get his ‘must protect’ feelngs. However, he also was dependant on animals for companionship/solace growing up so they also will probably get a ‘pls protec me too’ kind of vibe from him. Particularly in for emotional problems. Let’s see… Patient and kind people, especially those who understand PTSD, work well with him. Those that can handle constantly giving encouragement to a hulking giant who is always looking like a kicked puppy.
Enemies! Manakete give him flashbacks, and his hairpin responses to them are anywhere on the fight, flight, freeze, friend responses. Usually he’ll try to run, but if he’s unable, he may attack your poor innocent manakete or just grovel at them. His tribe was the most extremist of extreme. This does depend on his mindset that day! Some days he’s more resilient and others he is weaker to the trauma that haunts him. He also doesn’t mesh well with anyone who treats him “as he ought to be”, as in people who assume he’s a huge tough guy who shouldn’t show emotion. Also the bigger and scarier you are, the more likely he is to be nervous. Big is relative to anything about what he used to be (5’) and not in relation to his size now. Also? Hurt animals like in the Colosseum? He hates you.
Romance! My fiance Drouva and I agreed a long time ago to only rp romance and all that kind of thing with each other. We know it’s not how most couples who rp roll, but it’s just what makes us most comfortable. : ) One-sided crushes are okay, but the other player has to remember that they won’t go anywhere and be okay with that. It’s good angst potential for your character, but I’d hate to hurt someone’s OOC feelings. But honestly your characters could all do a lot better than Seersha, ahaha. Pity Kino, tbh.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Maecenas pharetra convallis posuere morbi. Sed risus ultricies tristique nulla aliquet. Congue nisi vitae suscipit tellus mauris. Massa tempor nec feugiat nisl. Neque convallis a cras semper. Purus in massa tempor nec feugiat nisl pretium. Laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac. Sed cras ornare arcu dui vivamus arcu. Morbi leo urna molestie at elementum. Dolor morbi non arcu risus quis varius quam. Consequat interdum varius sit amet mattis vulputate enim nulla. Eget aliquet nibh praesent tristique magna sit amet purus gravida. Mollis aliquam ut porttitor leo a diam. Imperdiet massa tincidunt nunc pulvinar sapien. Vitae aliquet nec ullamcorper sit amet. Risus nec feugiat in fermentum posuere urna nec. Urna id volutpat lacus laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac.[break][break]
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Maecenas pharetra convallis posuere morbi. Sed risus ultricies tristique nulla aliquet. Congue nisi vitae suscipit tellus mauris. Massa tempor nec feugiat nisl. Neque convallis a cras semper. Purus in massa tempor nec feugiat nisl pretium. Laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac. Sed cras ornare arcu dui vivamus arcu. Morbi leo urna molestie at elementum. Dolor morbi non arcu risus quis varius quam. Consequat interdum varius sit amet mattis vulputate enim nulla. Eget aliquet nibh praesent tristique magna sit amet purus gravida. Mollis aliquam ut porttitor leo a diam. Imperdiet massa tincidunt nunc pulvinar sapien. Vitae aliquet nec ullamcorper sit amet. Risus nec feugiat in fermentum posuere urna nec. Urna id volutpat lacus laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac.[break][break]
Aenean sed adipiscing diam donec adipiscing tristique. Eu nisl nunc mi ipsum. Nam libero justo laoreet sit. Urna cursus eget nunc scelerisque viverra. In cursus turpis massa tincidunt dui. Felis imperdiet proin fermentum leo vel orci porta non. Auctor eu augue ut lectus arcu bibendum at. Est velit egestas dui id. Tortor posuere ac ut consequat semper viverra nam. Sed lectus vestibulum mattis ullamcorper. Nibh venenatis cras sed felis.
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Maecenas pharetra convallis posuere morbi. Sed risus ultricies tristique nulla aliquet. Congue nisi vitae suscipit tellus mauris. Massa tempor nec feugiat nisl. Neque convallis a cras semper. Purus in massa tempor nec feugiat nisl pretium. Laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac. Sed cras ornare arcu dui vivamus arcu. Morbi leo urna molestie at elementum. Dolor morbi non arcu risus quis varius quam. Consequat interdum varius sit amet mattis vulputate enim nulla. Eget aliquet nibh praesent tristique magna sit amet purus gravida. Mollis aliquam ut porttitor leo a diam. Imperdiet massa tincidunt nunc pulvinar sapien. Vitae aliquet nec ullamcorper sit amet. Risus nec feugiat in fermentum posuere urna nec. Urna id volutpat lacus laoreet non curabitur gravida arcu ac.[break][break]
Aenean sed adipiscing diam donec adipiscing tristique. Eu nisl nunc mi ipsum. Nam libero justo laoreet sit. Urna cursus eget nunc scelerisque viverra. In cursus turpis massa tincidunt dui. Felis imperdiet proin fermentum leo vel orci porta non. Auctor eu augue ut lectus arcu bibendum at. Est velit egestas dui id. Tortor posuere ac ut consequat semper viverra nam. Sed lectus vestibulum mattis ullamcorper. Nibh venenatis cras sed felis.
<div align="center"><div style="width:1606px;height:606px;background-image:url(https://i.ibb.co/rkZWyrp/yokaibannertest.png);background-repeat:no-repeat;"> <div style="width:200px;height:470px;padding:15px;font-size:10.5px;text-align:justify;color:#00000c;background-color:#d0cfbf;font-family:open sans;line-height:-2px;float:center;margin-top:62px;"> The yokai of Japan have a good thing going for them blending in with the humans. It would be a shame if some bad or careless people ruined it for all of them. And that is why Hatano Reformery School was created 50 years ago. While troublesome adults can be 'dealt with', tying cinder blocks to a minor's legs and tossing them into Tokyo Bay just seems cruel. So yokai youngsters who are considered an exposure risk (whether on accident or on purpose) are packed up and sent off to the secluded boarding school to learn how to better blend into human society. It has a high success rate (probably helped by the official motto of 'graduate or just die already'), but this year they're adding something new!
Humans!
No more life in an echo chamber! This year the school will let in humans to further cultural understanding and let the more unstable yokai grow accustomed to being around them in small doses before being let back out into the world again. Will this gamble pay off? The dean has bet a lot of money, so it better! </div></div> </div></div>
