kishmaka
Level 5
IGN:
kishmaka
List your discord:
My Discord is @luciiia
Additionally, do you have a microphone and can speak via Discord?
Yes, I have a microphone and can speak via Discord.
Your time zone and current country of residence:
My time zone is Pacific Standard Time (PST), and I live in the United States.
Link any previous community team applications if applicable:
N/A
Do you recognize you could be removed from the community team?
Yes, I recognize that I could be removed from the community team.
List a few things that may obstruct your progress/development on the Lore Team.
A fair disclaimer for the following–while these may obstruct my progress on the Lore Team, they are in no way aspects that would majorly hinder my level of productivity as a Lore Team member.
school & work responsibilities
I would like to preface this by stating that despite being a senior in high school, I have managed to juggle both my SRP-related commitments and OOC commitments. To name a few: I work periodically on weekends and balance my high school coursework in addition to college coursework as a dual enrollment student. But, this would presumably be the most significant setback seeing as it may result in me completing lore assignments at a lesser pace.
SRP responsibilities
The first and most time-consuming SRP-related obligation I’ll mention is my involvement in the High School Sports faction. Currently, I am the High School cheer-captain; what this means for me is that I spend a good deal of my free time roleplaying my cheer-captain character and managing my team. Another responsibility worth mentioning is my involvement in the Shrine faction, which for the most part entails logging on and roleplaying with the occasional event to participate in. With both commitments, I have enough flexibility to be a productive and active member of the Lore Team.
What makes you passionate about writing?:
My passion for writing stems from an origin with which I’m certain many Lore Team members and writers alike can resonate. My earliest memories of learning to read and write as a child are often accompanied by praises from my teachers as well as mentions of my proficiency in such. That’s not to imply that I didn’t enjoy reading and writing, because if I had to choose a favorite subject back then and even now–I’d undoubtedly choose that without a second thought. The specific reason behind my passion for writing is hazy, but if I had to pinpoint an exact reason I would mention how writing has always been a source of comfort for me being an individual who grew up avoiding speaking her mind. Writing served as an outlet for me to express the thoughts I caged in freely and even more so allowed me to get involved in these stories and make them come to life by putting pen to paper. Throughout my life, I’ve grown even fonder of writing as my education is furthered and I’m proud to confess that I’m the friend people go to when they need an essay for school written. Furthermore, I don’t see writing as just an outlet but also an opportunity for growth. I’ve noticed that no matter how much older I get, there’s always a new word or phrase to learn and more creative writing pieces to indulge in.
Do you have any previous experience with writing lore or creative writing as a general aspect?:
As far as my creative writing experience goes, I track most of it back to my years of schooling in which I’ve amassed a huge passion for it. From essays to narratives to poems, I’ve enjoyed every piece of writing I’ve fashioned; most especially the pieces which called for me to pour my heart out onto a page. The kind of tragic pieces of writing that brought my teachers to tears. While I, unfortunately, can not say I’ve been a part of an official Lore Team, I can however confirm that I have experience writing lore for characters–including my own–and families.
In your own words, give your definition of lore:
From my perspective, lore can be as simply described as a backstory to just about any person, place, or thing. Whether it be as small as a rock, or as significant as the history of Karakura–lore refers to the storytelling aspect of just about anything imaginable.
#1
Summarize a character conflict, roleplay conflict, or event that you experienced (server-wide, personal, etcetera- there is no bar for how ‘interesting’ or ‘impactful’ it is). Be sure to follow the above guidelines.
HAUNTED ( 799 WORDS )
Each faint tick of a clock guides its longest arm further down on the circular contraption, in tandem with the beat of a heart. At the end of yet another day of waiting, time and tide do not cease their flow to make room for a text.
Valentina Cruz is sitting at the helm of this self-sought madness. Bag-adorned and sluggishly blinking eyes tell a tale of countless hours spent biding time with the expectation that her screen would be illuminated by a familiar contact. She remains hopeful. After all–Valentina could’ve and should’ve easily surmised, after having seen this tragic film replayed endlessly, that her future would become a mere echo of her past. Only she foolishly never fathomed the gut-wrenching possibility that her tears would ring out at the hands of the unknowingly kind Kyo Mizukawa.
“Valentina Cruz.” He once said, the gentle clasp of his hand on her chin bridging the gap between infatuation and genuine connection. Kyo's gaze fixated on the deep brown irises that stared back at him, chocolate hues that left him in a trance. “...I think I love you.”
Such contradictory words for somebody who never again rang her phone, haunted by ghosts from his past. Whether his absence was a ploy to back out of letting down the last vestige of a wall he built between the two, or protection of sorts for the girl he thought to have loved, Kyo failed to recognize the spiteful entity he left looming over the cheer captain.
A shadow; vengeful remnants of Mizukawa ancestry whose resentment runs as rampant as the water she inhabits, maliciously bears a fixation on the beauty she similarly was once proud to call her own. As such, she found a victim lingering in her very own domain. And how fitting that her heart beat for none other than the descendant of Mizu no Majo–the drowned daughter of the Mizukawa. It made for an irresistible window of opportunity to curse the bloodline that shunned her and cast her out in the cruelest of ways. Drowned by her kin, her tears would be intertwined with the raging waters of Karakura for the rest of eternity.
An unsuspecting Valentina Cruz lurks about the forest, pushing recklessly through the foliage with teammates under her tutelage as they follow to a cabin. Half-hearted laughs sputter out amidst scurries through the jungle of leaves and aimless wandering led the group down various paths, huffs and heaves parting Valentina's lips with every corner turned. The chilly breeze upon her face served as the only remedy for her flushed cheeks.
"We need somewhere to use this Ouija board!" She cries out, a palm pressed firmly to a lamppost with the other hovering over her chest--an attempt in vain to steady her breathing and, in turn, silence the deafening sound of her heart pounding relentlessly in her ears.
“Let’s go in here!” The blond-haired idol of the Heddo family calls out boldly through the canopy of thick growth on the trees, muffling any sound that dared make its presence known.
Valentina bravely strides ahead of her team. "M'kay! I'll go first..." she murmurs just as her frame passes through the doorway. Upon entry, the ease that once filled Valentina felt as though it had been suddenly placed upon shifting sands, teetering along the edge of an impending doom.
That's when it happens.
The howl of wind rushes to fill the void in Cruz’s ears as every door, window, and opening in the thickly dust-blanketed cabin is slammed, unbudgingly sealed shut. Tentative steps into the structure are taken with care as she moves forward. Especially seeing as it was the disreputable month of October, known best for its abundance of malevolent spirits in Karakura. So, the girl takes another brave and oh-so-irrational step onward.
Intrigued by Valentina’s courage, Mizu no Majo draws closer–sustaining an eerily low temperature that brushed over the girl’s skin and left an icy film.
“Kyo–” The spirit begins, whispers of breath eliciting goosebumps over a sun-kissed complexion. “...he’s not here, just like Calvin, and just like Duke.” Amusement riddles her blue complexion as the words fall sharply off her tongue, stabbing into the hard-hearted Cruz girl. “History sure does repeat itself, doesn’t it?”
Here is where the fear settles in, where looming feelings of anxiety twist Valentina’s insides all up into knots–so taut that they can’t be undone, tied together to top it all off–by rope too thick to be cut.
She’s left with no way out; no way forward from the imminent tsunami, ready to wash over and pummel what remained of her tattered heart.
On her lips brim a name, like rigor mortis–a last use of her energy. A whispered, crestfallen cry for help… one that would never reach its intended pair of ears.
“Kyo…”
#2
Create a folklore tale based on an existing area in Karakura of your choosing; tell us a story! Show us how creative you can get. Be sure to follow the above guidelines.
GRIEVING LIGHT ( 772 WORDS )
Nestled in the golden grains of Karakura Beach stands a lighthouse, firm and deeply rooted in superstitions. Where did it come from? Why did it come about? And the most critical question among each: what mysteries does this tower of light–nullified by now–have hidden within those rustic walls?
Hanzo and Shizuku.
A couple all Karakura natives were once familiar with, for the salt-water stench that lingered unyieldingly in the vicinity of their stand selling fresh fish. The couple, however, was most notable for their love story, powerful enough to shatter the cuffs of generational curses–wealth poisoned the husband’s lineage. Still, love was the antidote, setting the scene for the rest of their happy lives. Or so they assumed.
Shizuku, having the heart of a nomad, longed to travel. To set sail and allow herself to be taken as far as the waves permitted, steering her toward every inch of land unseen by her eyes. This passion was shelved the very moment pen was put to paper and officiated the swiftly sought matrimony between her and Hanzo. Grateful as she was, the siren song of the sea drew her in–a melody to which her significant other himself was unable to turn a deaf ear. So, with funds amassed from nights slept away hungry and traces of inheritance money, Hanzo saw to the construction of a lighthouse. Vibrant red stripes, a spiral of stone stairs–no feature rivaled the beauty of the radiant smile trickling onto his wife’s face at the sight of this monument. A token of their love and a manifestation of her dreams, reinforced by sturdy metal.
To celebrate the success of the lighthouse’s creation, Shizuku embarked on her first trip alone since the abolishment of her maiden name. Her sailboat’s mast guided the woman over the open horizon and away from the home she so longed to have found–perhaps not in Karakura, but in the man she loved. As for Hanzo, he made the trek from his stand behind what is now the bowling alley to the lighthouse after a grueling day of catching and selling fish, every day for fourteen days. Fourteen nights of gazing up at the constellations, meditative of the light beaming from the tower, and wondering if Shizuku too saw the same stars.
Days bled into months, the grains of sand that compiled on the beach mirrored the flip of an hourglass, and she still hadn’t returned.
Worried for his wife, Hanzo closed his shop for the very last time and vowed that he’d dedicate the rest of his life to waiting for her if that’s what the tides commanded… and that he did. Like a compass needle points North, his eyes set to sea–the unstoppable crashing of waves became a silver lining to the storm clouds looming above. The warm breath of hope blew life into his tainted heart, only he didn’t realize it’d be enough to tear him apart at the seams.
A letter.
From the moment its seal was shredded open and the words traced by his eyes, Hanzo was met with the news that his wife was killed. Echoes of his past, demons of wealth that returned to haunt him–he seldom believed that as spiteful his family was towards his departure, they’d ever bring harm to the woman whose hands cradled his heart. In fact, he consciously chose to overlook the letter; Shizuku was alive, in his heart and his mind. Even still, the anxiety ate away at him, eroding like the dazzling red that once painted the lighthouse… miraculously faded grey. There was only one plausible action, and one night–under cover of moonlight and as intoxicated as one man can humanly get–he took a bat to the systems that powered the lighthouse. The radiance that once illuminated everything instantly fell into darkness, and with it went spiraling down into oblivion the fatal possibility that he too would be taken by vengeance.
What was meant to be a beacon of light, a safe harbor to bring natives home from sea now stood dormant—an emblem of love lost to the waves of time.
Even still, the lighthouse's roof remains lively and modern–a hotspot for couples, one might say… shrouded in mystery and veiled in romantic pink decor. The kind of appearance that completely contrasts the tale of tragedy locals cling to. The kind that has prompted a singular unanimous belief in the minds of all whose ears fall witness to this story.
Hanzo’s soul remains shining brilliantly in the lighthouse, in hopes that Shizuku will one day conquer the unforgivingly fierce ocean and sail back to him.
And the lighthouse–consumed by shadows–is the vessel.
Last edited: