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{Sign-ups CLOSED!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Pronoun
she

MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

THE BACKSTORY

You're in the pinnacle of your life—you're young, free, and everything is going great. Even if you're not noticed by anyone and laying low, or living it up and grabbing everyone's attention, things are the best they've ever been.

But then, in the blink of an eye, everything just... changes.

You're attending a concert—whatever your reasons for being there are your own—and at first, it seems pretty good. The soft rock music is serenading in your ears as the crowd around you is swaying their hands in the air to the beat, and every once and a while you might pipe up to sing along. People occasionally bump into you—which is only natural, you think vaguely—but soon, you feel a hand tapping your shoulder. As you turn to face it, though, your heart drops.

A beaked mask is inches away from your face.

You jump back, surprised, and have time to look this stranger. A dark, almost blackish purple hooded cloak covers all of his body, minus the white mask covering all of his face. No skin is visible whatsoever. Just looking at this guy sends shivers down your spine. And right before you open your mouth to ask what he wants, he grabs your arm.

Panic begins to set in, perhaps along with anger and confusion, and you try to fight him off. His grip is like iron, though, and you can seem to pry away. Nervously you look around for help, but... Wait, why can't anyone notice you? What's going on? They're all just watching the band play as if this dude isn't squeezing your wrist to the point where it feels like it's about to break in two! How can they not see you? Nevertheless you shout for help, and try to get away from this creep.

But as much as you try, he won't let go.

Actually, to be precise, he starts to drag you away.

You scream and punch and kick at him, your eyes bewildered as you yelp for someone to help you, but you are taken out of the civic center, unnoticed by anyone in the crowd.

Once outside in the center and into the dark, raven-black night only lit by a few streetlights posted here and there, you begin to notice other calls for help besides yours. Were there more than one of these freaks? More importantly, were they taking more people along with you?

Just what the heck is going on here?

Eventually you and the others are roughly shoved into what you think is a white van, and immediately the doors and shut and locked. Some of the others pound at the windows, but they are soon silenced. In fact, you all are soon quieted down—a bright, colorless light flashes before you, and you loose consciousness.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•​

You wake up in unfamiliar lands. Your head is aching like crazy, and you moan as you sit up. Your eyes slowly but surely dilate to the pearly gray sky, and you feel a deep knot form in your stomach.

Where is this place?

It looked like a run-down carnival from the 40's or something. The color had all but faded from the booths and rides that littered the park, and the trees all around had lost all their leaves. It was an eerie place, what with old cartoon clowns grinning at you from peeling posters, the creaking groans from the Ferris wheel ahead of you, clearly telling you no one has been here in a few years at the most, and a chilling wind slicing through the air. Distantly you could hear thunder clapping, though it was far enough away where you knew a storm wouldn't brew up anytime soon.

As you inspect the carnival, your eyes glaze over a large wooden sign over the steel-chained fence locking you in—MASQUE CARNIVALIA, it says. So it was an amusement park of some sort.

Another thing you notice, though, that's far more alarming than the fact you're trapped in this weird place by those high fences, is that something is terribly wrong with you. With your body. There is definitely something wrong here.

Gingerly you stand and look over yourself, and the color—whatever shade it may be—drains from your face.

Whether your skin has a different feel to it, or you feel new appendages on your body somewhere, you are ultimately mutated in some way or another. Your clothing, too, supposing you're wearing anything, has changed dramatically. It's not something you've ever stored in your wardrobe, that's for sure.

What happened to you?

Did those men in the cloaks do this?

Your gaze turns to the fences, and you see a poster-sized piece of paper pasted to it. You slowly go over to it—perhaps with difficulty from your new body—and read the note silently to yourself.


Hello, Carnies.

We hope your new residence is up to your standards.

Also we know that your new forms are certainly welcomed.

You see, you seven were picked by hand to be the first in a test of equality. Surely you all know of the Pokémon species, yes? Well, believe it or not, you are now morphed with one that best represented your inner soul.

Isn't that delightful?

You are henceforth known as Carnies—outcasts that do not fall in the category of human or Pokémon. You are in between where only a selected few have been dropped into. But do not fear, lovelies—it truly is an honor to be here in Masque Carnivalia, we promise.

However, if you
do wish to leave this wonderful place, we can surely assist you. All you must do is purely and wholeheartedly accept that humans and Pokémon are equal. And just a verbal statement won't cut it, children.

You must say it from the soul.

Otherwise, you'll be here as freakshow Carnies for the rest of eternity!

Please do consider your options, friends, for time is running out.

XX



You stare at the note for what seems like forever until you notice others have crowed around you, just as lost as you are. Slowly you pass around the note as you get a good look at the others.

They're just as much as Carnies as you are, no doubt about it.

And all seven of you are stuck here in Masque Carnivalia until you can realize that you're equal species to Pokémon.

...

Whatever that means.



SETTING​

The year is 1992 in late autumn. There is snow gradually falling, and the carnival is as bland as ever. It is on the side of a hill, so there are many cases of stairs for people to climb up to other parts of the park. The whole area is enclosed by twenty-feet tall, steel-chained enforced fences. Barbed wire tops this fence off—and a lot of it, too, making it pretty much impossible to escape. A pretty remarkable landmark is the large, looming Ferris wheel in the middle of the park, though it looks much larger considering it's higher up on the hill.

Near the entrance of the carnival, there is a sign just above the fence stating the location's given name. There is a large booth to the right when one first enters, with the words TICKETS in large letters on a sign hammered onto it. Further down there are countless toppled over booths and stands, and loose posters are constantly drifting in the wind. There are indeed colors in this monotonous, dead place, though it's hard to tell. The colors of the horses on the merry-go-round are faint, and the same goes for much in the amusement park. There are tents planted all over the place, and God only knows what was left behind in them.

Hotdog and cotton candy stands and drink machines are found throughout the carnival, as well as a big red tent containing cages and other circus props on the east-most side.



PLOT AND RULES

It's just like the last one, guys. ONLY BETTER. This time around we're the first batch, and basically the guinea pigs for the Alpha Carnies—or, the cloaked guys. The plot is pretty straightforward: you've been morphed into Carnies. You're trapped in a carnival. You better escape before you lose your mind.

The first Masque Carnivalia and its OOC thread might help for inspiration.
CONNOR AND CEL FOREVAH.

Generals rules to remember:

• Semi-advanced roleplay here. Complex at best. If you don't have the experience, this is not for you.

Follow these rules. This includes the basics, like no power-playing, Mary-Sues, and junk like that. Just follow the rules, geez ; ;

One element per character. Unlike the last MC where there were set elements, you can choose your own, but if it's already someone's primary—not secondary, mind you—element, don't choose it. More than likely I'll ask you to change it, and one thing leads to another, and bam, you have to remake the whole character. :(

• One character per player. Only seven characters in all. Because seven is symbolic.

• You are a Carnie. Carnies are Pokémorphs—humans with Pokémon-like qualities (Also known as gijinkas). So you cannot be just human or just Pokémon.

• I, Ulqi, and the co-GM, Black Yoshi, have the right to reject you from joining the roleplay or remove you from it if you aren't respecting others or playing by the rules. Please don't make us do this, guys. :c

• Please strive to at least write six to ten sentences for your posts. Really, it's not that hard.

• Be descriptive with your sign-up sheet. No, seriously. If you have less than four sentences in any of those categories I assure you, it ain't gonna make the cut.

• Have fun. This is by far the most important rule! :D

FORM

*Note: Please keep the bolded areas bolded.

Code:
[b]Name:[/b] Lolwut a name she crazy

[b]Age:[/b] Between 15 and 23 and you're all set, bro

[b]Gender:[/b] Yup

[b]Element:[/b] Have you made sure it isn't taken?

[b]Species Morphed With:[/b] Any Pokémon EXCLUDING legendaries. 

[b]Appearance:[/b] What'choo look like?

[b]Personality:[/b] What'choo act like?

[b]Writing Example:[/b] Yeah. It's necessary. This is so Yoshi and I can get a feel of how you write and stuff. It can be about anything, but preferably about your character. Ideas might be how they reacted upon waking up in their new body. 

[b]Other:[/b] Anything else we need to know?

SIGN-UPS

1) YOSHI— Lester Harrington/M/Steel/Scizor
2) ULQI— Jayy Mahogany/F/Ghost/Driftblim
3) FLARETH— Vesta Royce/F/Fire/Arcanine
4) KUCHIKI— Samantha Nicols/F/ICE ICE BABY/Glaceon
5) DAR— Titus Cooke/M/Water/Kingler
6) ASH— Alyx Woodridge/F/Dark/Houndoom
7) ZEXION— Thomas Winters/M/Bug/Escavalier
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Name: Lester Harrington

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Element: Steel

Species Morphed With: Scizor


Appearance: Lester looks taller than he really is due to his thin structure. He stands around 5’ 10”, and has deep mahogany hair cut fairly short, though it sometimes gets in his eyes. His eyes, since their morphing, have become a disconcerting yellow color. He wears a pair of rectangular glasses low on his nose.

He doesn’t know what to his old clothes since they were morphed. He now has was seems to be armor over his upper body, very reminiscent of a Scizor. His right hand is a huge claw, while his dominant left hand seems to have a glove on it (this is in fact just his skin, colored and patterned). A large belt sits on his waist, holding up a series of cloth pieces(lookit the picture, it makes sense). Dark red pants adorn his lower half, with some heavy black boots. (XPICTUREX)


Personality: Having been the second youngest of four boys, Lester has always been content to be alone. He’s had very little to do with others socially, and usually treated it like a business transaction. Over the course of his life, he’s become numb to other people around him. There are people who he knows, but none that he thinks of as “Friend.” He definitely has his personal bubble.

His attitude towards the world is largely neutral, viewing everything as momentary in the grand scheme of things. He avoids conversation when he can, and drags it out when he can’t. In the end, it’s all just one little blink in the universe, so it doesn’t matter much if you succeed or fail to him.


Writing Example:
Lester grunted as he handed another bass to the person leaning in from the stage. This guy had a different instrument for every song, it seemed like. Being the little errand boy wasn’t Lester’s first choice for the music industry, but the pay was decent.

He leaned on the wall and listened to the song as the band began to play. He rubbed his tired eyes, matching their tune with his left foot tapping on the floor. A finger touched his shoulder, and he sighed. Probably the Security Guards wanting more coffee. He turned around, and his heart nearly leapt from his throat, his breath trapped in his lungs. A stout man swathed in dark robes and a beaked mask stared back at him silently, still as a statue.

“Uh… Can I help you?” He asked nervously. The man’s hand shot out with lightning speed and latched onto his arm. “Hey! Let go!” Lester tried jerking away, prying off his fingers one at a time, but the man’s grip only tightened. The man turned and began walking, pulling Lester along with him. He walked right by the guards, Lester screaming at them to get him off. “What are you two doing?! I’m-Hey! Loosen up, would you?”

He was tossed in a van like a ragdoll with some other people. He sat up as quick as he could manage. Staring out the window, he saw more robed men like the one who took him. He gave a single pound with his fist on the glass, but they paid him no mind. He slumped down with a sigh.

It wasn’t long before he lost consciousness.

Other: He was quite the piano man before all this. Also, he’s got a thing for oatmeal scotchie cookies.
 
Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

MAHOGANY.


Name: Jayy Mahogany

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Element: Ghost

Species Morphed With: Driftblim

Appearance: Jayy is on the small side, standing at a short 4'8 and weighing no more than 70 pounds. Her skin is a pale tint, almost like an off-white, and because of her stature and weight, her build is wiry and skinny. Her hair is a snow white color, even more so than her skin, and is held up by purple bands in two curly shoulder-length pigtails on either side of her face. On her nose is a blocky yellow "X," and her eyes are a piercing, almost soulless ruby color. Her dress is rather odd, but in an elegant way—altogether it is poofy, as the short sleeves puff out. The bottom of the dress does likewise, and looks almost like a rounded umbrella in shape. It is a dark violet starting from her sleeves down, but soon arches of a lighter purple take over. At the bottom of the dress is a layer of ripped red fabric that matches the tint of her eyes, and a white, whimsy, cloud-like collar is at the top of the dress. High-heels of the same ruby color cover her feet. [X]

Personality: Jayy is, in short, a brainiac. She is extremely intelligent and knows a great deal about a great deal of things, and often rambles on and on about a certain subject until interrupted or stopped. She has a photographic memory, meaning anything visually shown to her or read will more than likely stay in her memory for years to come. She isn't as perceptive in auditory learning, however, but will still remember important details when being told them.

She's not very in-tune with current culture, so more than likely if you mention something like Twilight to her, she'll be clueless. Jayy's also socially awkward around men, or pretty much anybody she knows, so she's rather oblivious to others' intentions, whatever they may be. She's actually a bit sensitive to human contact, so touching, hugging, or embracing of any kind will automatically be questioned in a defensive manner. Jayy seems to be composed and collected much of the time, and even in anger, she will still act calm, but a change is easily detected in her facial expression and body posture whilst she is angry. Nevertheless she is more or less unemotional, but she will smile when she sees the moment fit.

Writing Example: I wrote the plot, what more do you want D:<

Other: Well, uh, she's full of air, so she's either tied down to someone or floating off into space. :|
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Reserve me Fire Element and Arcanine Pokemorph please. I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment (White 2, woohoo!) but I'll get something in in the next few days, hopefully.
 
Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

....

.............

.............................

Ulqi.

I am here for you.

Name: Samantha Nicols

Age: 18

Gender: G♀rly

Element: Ice ice baby

Species Morphed With: Glaceon


Appearance: She’s more or less of normal size for her age, and still “high school skinny.” Her hair is a deep blue, with long locks framing her face. Her eyes are a clear ocean blue. Her skin is also just barely tinted blue. A tail pokes out the back of her shorts.

Her hair has a dark blue headband of sorts, mimicking the “headdress” on a Glaceon. She has a light blue tank top with dark blue diamonds across the bust. The shirt cuts off just above her belly button. She wears a pair of short shorts (yesssss) and white shoes with no-show socks. Basically, she’s dressed for summer.


Personality: She’s the really pretty and really really mean girl everyone knows. You know who I’m talking about. Her. She doesn’t take any crap from anyone. While she’s not the brightest, she knows enough about people to read most of them like a book. Deep down, she has some compassion buried in her. She doesn’t bring it out often, though, and her pep talks are usually more harsh than encouraging, but just as inspirational as anyone else’s. I think you’re getting the idea.


Writing Example: (Only because it will make you happy)
Sammy let out a single discontented moan. She sat up with some effort, and turned her head. Her neck popped a few times, and she turned it the other way. A few more pops. She could see all around her the ruins of an old carnival. Pretty crappy one, too, from the looks of it. Probably why it was nothing but rusted pipes and rotting wood now.

Ugh. She’d never felt so groggy in her life. She began to stand up. She let out a small yelp when she began to fall back down. After she managed to shuffle one foot enough to balance her, she looked to see what was weighing her down.

First of all, she had a tail, and second, she just noticed her skin was blue. She didn’t outright scream. But she stood in disbelief, poking at herself, checking to make sure she was awake. She pulled at the tail, and quickly stopped when she learned how much pain that caused. She looked at her blue hair, what had once been as dark as the night itself. What had she done to deserve this? Well, that wasn’t a good question. She’d done plenty, but why not do this to someone who was really messed up? Serial Killers or something! Anyone but her!

She rubbed her temples. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It’s impossible, she told herself.

Still, if it was happening… Why was she in these clothes? She didn’t own anything like these! And earlier, she remembered it was cold out… Looking around, it was probably just as cold, or colder. She didn’t feel cold, despite her lack of clothes. In fact, she was a little warm for her comfort. Still, somebody changed her. She didn’t like it. Bunch of pervs. She walked alone in a direction that felt… right for a few minutes. She came across a few other people around the entrance. She went and took a note from one of them without a word. After reading it, she slapped it back into the person’s chest.

She sighed and put her hand over her forehead. “This is just ridiculous.”

Other: She’s going to be fuuuuuun~

There you have it.
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

I... Might join. This looks interesting (and the last one seemed great) but I haven't really been as active.
Reserve anyways.
 
Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

ACCEPTED. Of course.

Forgot to mention Dar and FLARETH are reserved, by the way~ :3

EDIT: So, uh, autocorrect capitalized Flareth for reasons unknown. Whoops.
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Reserve me please! I'm going to be going with Houndoom.
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

If I can get a reserve on the Bug element, I'll get the form finished later today. So many bugs to chose from.

EDIT: Theme song... oh god. Wonderful!

EDIT 2: Form complete. Screw themesongs, I used this to write.

[FONT=&quot]Name:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Thomas Winters[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Age:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] 15[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Gender:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Male[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Element:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Bug[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Species Morphed With: [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Escavalier[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Appearance:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Thomas stands around 5’11 and is looks smaller than he is. Before the transformation, his hair was almost jet-black. His eyes are pale green in color, contrasting the rest of his appearance. After the morphing, his hair is similar to a flatter and shorter mohawk with a red coloring. His right hand has a foot long spear coming from the wrist area; which starts as wide as the wrist and tappers off to a point, spiraled with a red and white pattern. He wears a yellow t-shirt and a pair of gray pants. His shoes are, well, nonexistent. His skin is now a nice shade of blue.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Personality:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Thomas is quiet and smart. He barely showcases the later attribute due to the former. He feels pain when his companions feel it, but is weak in many situations. He finds himself knocked down after attempting his best to help. He doesn’t think when he should, jumping blindly into situations in which will likely be extremely harmful. He is tender- and faint-hearted. Thomas is a little bit religious, but only in the most extreme situation.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Writing Example:[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Where, where am I?[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Thomas had woken up face-first in the dirt. He shook his head and attempted to upright himself. He established a firm placement in the dirt with his left hand, but found it harder to do with his right. He looked down upon his right hand, and jumped, landing in a sitting position. Instead of a hand, he had a spear. What the hell is that? Is that a spear? He stared at it for a minute, trying to remember where he had been all night.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]I went to that damn concert. Why in hell did I do that? Goodness, why did I let Casey drag me there? And then, that man. That mask. He had dragged me into a van with some other kids. But, [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Thomas looked around, are they still around? Thomas weakly stands, his legs tremble when he is finally upright. He glances around.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]So, what is this place? [/FONT][FONT=&quot]The buildings around seem to suggest, an ancient carnival? He looks up and spots a sign. It reads ‘[/FONT][FONT=&quot]MASQUE CARNIVALIA.’ Oh god, oh god. Get me out! [/FONT][FONT=&quot]I, I… [/FONT][FONT=&quot]Thomas sees a cloaked man, in a mask. ”AIEE!” Thomas sits back down, in a fetal position, and prays.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]Other:[/FONT][FONT=&quot] Being morphed with an Escavalier has given him an amazing speed boost. He can run faster than a normal human.[/FONT]
 
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Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Looks like this one could be full, but if not I'll reserve a dragon type.
 
Re: {Sign-ups Open!} MASQUE CARNIVALIA: MELANCHOLY HILL

Reserved Ash and Zexion.

:( Well, VM, I guess we'll just have to see if all the reserves fill out their forms. If one drops out, though, I'll add you in. :D
 
Name: Titus Cooke (RNG names :D)

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Element Water

Species Morphed With: Kingler

Appearance: Titus is about 6 feet tall, with an unimpressive build. He is covered in a bright orange exoskeleton which replaces the need for clothing. Since being morphed with Kingler, both his hands have turned to pincers, rendering them pretty much useless. His left pincer is easily twice the size of his right. Titus has no hair (except perhaps under his shell, he doesn't care enough to check) but instead has a row of short horns going across his forehead. Despite his knees being like that of a normal human, he often has the urge to walk sideways.

Personality: Titus is a loner. He has never been very social, has very few friends, and is one hell of a smartass. He can be extremely sarcastic or know-it-all-ish whenever he wants. He often feels like he's at the bottom at the food chain and thinks that other people's lives are worth more than his. Since he has few friends, Titus is very protective of the ones he has. He may be seen staring off into space.

Writing Example:

Titus woke up with a severe headache. His eyes opened slowly, and afterwards he couldn't quite register what he was seeing. It all seemed blurry and far away. Dear lord... he thought. Titus sat upright and tried to put his hand to his forehead, but was having trouble lifting it. He looked over at it, and his vision came into focus. What he saw was a claw the size of a mailbox. "What the-!" He looked at his right hand, which was similar but not nearly as big.

Titus tried to clear his mind, to remember what happened. The concert! He was at some concert (he couldn't remember who was performing) with Mike and Alexandria. He looked around, hoping that they were here too, but all he saw were others who didn't look anything like them. Then again, Titus was sure he didn't look like himself, either. He focused, trying to remember what else had happened.

There was the person in the mask, the van, a light... That's as far as it went. He stood up. No point in sitting around.

Other: Is terrified of steam. (Being a crab and all...)

There you have it.
 
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Name: Alyx Woodridge

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Element: Dark/Fire

Species Morphed With: Houndoom

Appearance: Alyx is about 5'8", athletic build. Before the morph she had blonde hair and blue eyes, but now, of course, everything's different.

Her hair is black. That and the, you know, the long white horns that now come out from her temples and rake back. They're almost more than a foot long! And they put her off balance. You try walking with those things on your head!

Her blue eyes are now a brilliant red.

Her legs have mutated completely digitgrade and covered in sleek black fur, which carries all the way up her back where three white bone like ridges sit, covering her shoulders, upper arms, her forarms and covering her hands. The rest of her skin looks the way it had before, her chest, face, and belly are normal. Her hands have short, white claws, that do not retract instead of nails.

White, bone like rings rest on her ankles and wrists.

Her canines are slightly pointed.

Oh, and we can't forget the long, black furred, whip-like tail with an arrow shaped end can we?

She wears faded black baggy long jean shorts, a dark red, tight-fitting sleeveless tee tucked perfectly into it, belted in with a skull belt buckle. And a necklace with a thick corded black string rests a white skull pendant on her chest.

Personality: Alyx was raised by her dad. Her mom disappeared, just up and left when she was five, but she and her dad got by just fine. They were very close, and Alyx thinks she's the better for it. He taught her how to fix cars at the auto shop he owned down the road, how to survive in the woods, and he even taught her how to box, something he'd learned and competed at in college.

She was raised tough, thanks to him.

But for some reason that only made it even harder for her when he died a week before graduation, hit by a drunk driver on the way home from work.

After that she closed up, and hit the road in her dad's motorcycle (a gift from his will) after graduating. She traveled aimlessly, working the random odd job, but never staying in once place for very long. She had no idea where she'd stop of course. She had the fleeting idea of trying to find her mom, but she stuffed it away. Her mother was dead as far as Alyx cared. Part of her liked the road, it felt more like a home than the empty house her father left behind for her.

Alyx is a bit headstrong, but can be talked down if approached with reason. She very loyal to those she considers friends, but it takes a while to break through her shell. She's street smart and can handle herself in most situations, but if she gets flustered it hard to get her back on track. It's usually her anger that does that.

Writing Example:

The world slowly came into focus. With a groan, Alyx sat up, but the action felt weird; painful actually. With sigh she reached behind her and pulled her tail out from under her, feeling relief as she did so. Ah, she thought, that was the problem.

Wait a second.

Tail?

"What the-" she started, before looking around her. Six others, she guessed the others from the van, were with her. All of them... well... different. Not human, not entirely. "Who-?" She got to her feet, only to fall back again. Her head felt heavy as she shook it. She reached and touched her head.

Oh god, she felt like she was going to pass out again. What was on her head? It felt like... horns? She looked down, these weren't her clothes, and those for sure weren't her legs.

The others gathered around a letter on the fence. She read it, slowly, forming the words that made no sense.

She always hated the circus.

Other: Has a bit of acid reflux... yeah. Stay away if she gets the hiccups or something.
 
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Name: Vesta Royce

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Element: Fire

Species Morphed With: Arcanine

Appearance: She has the ears and tail of an Arcanine. Her skin is normally colored, but it has black stripes on it. Her eyes are a dark green and she has bright red hair. There is cream colored fur on her legs (under her knees) and patches of the same color fur on her face. She used to have more fur on her face, but she shaved it off in secret.

She is around 5'6" in height, with a slightly above average weight. She usually wears specially-made jean shorts that keep her tail out as well as a black tank top and a long, brown jacket covering it.

Personality: She tends to be laid-back, often laughing things off. She's also a social butterfly, always one to strike up a conversation first. She is a confident person, on the outside.

On the inside, however, she has many insecurities. She is insecure about her weight (even though she's only a bit overweight) and also about how people judge her.

Writing Example:

Vesta woke up with a jolt.

What the hell was that dream? she muttered. I mean....seriously, why'd I dream of a creepy circus?

She laid back down, trying to get her well-needed sleep.

Wait....this doesn't feel like a bed.

She fully awakened, glancing around in fear.

"Where am I?" she yelled.

As she yelled, she felt fur rub across her face.

"What...is this?" she said, disoriented.

She looked over her whole body. She was wearing different clothes then she was previously. Cream-colored fur covered her knees and below. She noticed a tail twitching behind her. If she had a mirror, she would see the cream fur covering her face as well.


Other: Anything else we need to know?
 
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