IGN:
KotaLobo
List your discord name and tag:
_iko.
Additionally, do you have a microphone and can speak via discord?
Yes, I have a microphone and I’m able to speak.
Your time zone and current country of residence:
I currently live in the US and my timezone is CST.
Link any previous community team applications if applicable:
Do you recognize you could be removed from the community team?
Yes, I do recognize that I could be removed from the community team at any time.
List a few things that may obstruct your progress/development on the Lore Team.
I don’t have anything that can get in the way, I may be busy with some roles and getting quota for a few factions, but nothing should be stopping me from any progress or development on the Lore Team unless something serious comes up.
What makes you passionate about writing?:
I’ve been writing for the past seven or eight years. My writing started as a way to get out any strong emotions I was feeling and make it into something beautiful. In my eyes, I see writing as an art piece, something that was created by an author or artist who puts their time, effort, and energy into a story and puts it out into the world, or even a small community for people to read.
What I love about writing is that it’s something that you never stop improving on, something you can always get feedback on to make the plot, characters, or anything better. When writing, you can be as creative as you want and it’s such a perfect art because there are no rights or wrongs when it comes down to anything except for grammar, spelling, and a couple of other things.
My main passion for writing is to have people read my writing, give me feedback, tell me what I can do better and do differently to improve my writing knowledge, and so much more. I want people to read what I write so they have the same enjoyment that I have when I read stories by other authors, I like the hard work, time, and energy that I put into my writing pieces and prompts recognized and put into multiple communities.
Do you have any previous experience with writing lore or creative writing as a general aspect?:
Unfortunately, I haven’t had much experience writing lore except for a couple of families that I’m helping work on lore for, but I do plan on starting some projects on lore characters, objects, etc.
In your own words, give your definition of lore:
Lore is a story behind a piece of art, which can be anything, a character, statue, painting, drawing, anything and everything. Lore is put into pieces like this to give it a background, something for people to read to help them understand more about this character or art piece, Lore gives all of these things a purpose and a meaning behind why they were created and what it is.
WRITING PROMPTS
A woman with a grim expression, trapped in a cage made of strictly cement and metal bars that rang out a metallic clang, one that echoed through the room and hallways. The woman, once known, is now buried under secrets and forgotten by the people she once knew and loved. The happy memories she had of the outside world are starting to fade, washing away the prints she left in Karakura like the ocean waves while she serves the life sentence she didn’t deserve. The zoo-like environment she lives in is now her home, her grave, and the embodiment of her life’s decisions and regrets, someplace where she listens to the pleas and screams of the damned bounce off of the walls like an out-of-tune violin.
Though years have passed since the incident took place, the seconds passed by faster than the clock ticked. The smallest hand on the clock was hardly visible through the tiny hole between the bars, but it danced around the clock as if in a taunting manner. Water dripped from the faucet, sounding like fingernails tapping on a wood surface every time a new drop hit the porcelain. Unlike the woman, the water always had a new life, one where it was able to start over and become something new. The unfortunate truth that the girl had to face and come to terms with was one that didn’t mess around, a situation that sounded like just a dream, yet it was real. This time was one of the few that had to happen, but she was only left to wonder while knowing she’d never get the answer she deserved.
Every time she looked out of the small window to watch the sunset, it looked right back at her mockingly. The birds sang and the animals ran around free, the plants outside swayed gracefully in the air, and the citizens of the city went back home to see their families, friends, and partners. Oh, how could she only wish to be out there again, with the people, animals, and nature, only if she could try again one more time, but she couldn’t. She begged and pleaded day after day, saying she was innocent, but to no avail. Soon, her pleas turned into echoes that slowly faded throughout the department hallways. The tapping from the water grew louder as the days went past, and so did the ticking of the clock, followed by the clanking of the metal bars that held her inside, all of these made her crack, causing her to shatter just like a mirror that was hit with a hammer, not once, but again and again.
It was as if the glass shards hit and buried themselves beneath her skin, but sunk into her heart and tore it open like a Christmas gift, something the best bandages and stitches in the world couldn’t cure. Every hope and prayer she held onto soon burnt down like a house made strictly out of hay, causing everything to crumble and fall as if a wrecking ball was hit into the side of a stone building. Suddenly, the world was black and white just like an old-school TV, yet it managed to be even darker than that. Unable to feel, the woman went through the days as if nothing mattered, acting like she was never a human being who was free and happy out in the world, not once in her miserable life. This incident caused the woman’s life to come to a screeching halt as if it were a bullet train that had to suddenly stop after going over one hundred miles an hour.
A woman who’s as bitter as a lime, one who had danced on the edge of multiple skysc****rs with the Reaper herself, was dim. The whispers and screams of the girl rang through her head, a who was once alive and happy was now pale and stiff. Though the woman did not commit the crime herself, she held herself accountable for the death, watching was more than enough than the crime itself. The woman lies like a corpse in its casket, though an uncomfortable one, one who sleeps on a large stone slab they called a bed, something they will reuse and give to some other unfortunate soul who winds up in that frigid, suffocating enclosure. All she can do is stare at the ceiling with tired eyes, knowing that she won’t be able to sleep peacefully for days, weeks, and even years to come.
A woman with a grim expression, trapped in a cage made of strictly cement and metal bars that rang out a metallic clang, one that echoed through the room and hallways. The woman, once known, is now buried under secrets and forgotten by the people she once knew and loved. The happy memories she had of the outside world are starting to fade, washing away the prints she left in Karakura like the ocean waves while she serves the life sentence she didn’t deserve. The zoo-like environment she lives in is now her home, her grave, and the embodiment of her life’s decisions and regrets, someplace where she listens to the pleas and screams of the damned bounce off of the walls like an out-of-tune violin.
Though years have passed since the incident took place, the seconds passed by faster than the clock ticked. The smallest hand on the clock was hardly visible through the tiny hole between the bars, but it danced around the clock as if in a taunting manner. Water dripped from the faucet, sounding like fingernails tapping on a wood surface every time a new drop hit the porcelain. Unlike the woman, the water always had a new life, one where it was able to start over and become something new. The unfortunate truth that the girl had to face and come to terms with was one that didn’t mess around, a situation that sounded like just a dream, yet it was real. This time was one of the few that had to happen, but she was only left to wonder while knowing she’d never get the answer she deserved.
Every time she looked out of the small window to watch the sunset, it looked right back at her mockingly. The birds sang and the animals ran around free, the plants outside swayed gracefully in the air, and the citizens of the city went back home to see their families, friends, and partners. Oh, how could she only wish to be out there again, with the people, animals, and nature, only if she could try again one more time, but she couldn’t. She begged and pleaded day after day, saying she was innocent, but to no avail. Soon, her pleas turned into echoes that slowly faded throughout the department hallways. The tapping from the water grew louder as the days went past, and so did the ticking of the clock, followed by the clanking of the metal bars that held her inside, all of these made her crack, causing her to shatter just like a mirror that was hit with a hammer, not once, but again and again.
It was as if the glass shards hit and buried themselves beneath her skin, but sunk into her heart and tore it open like a Christmas gift, something the best bandages and stitches in the world couldn’t cure. Every hope and prayer she held onto soon burnt down like a house made strictly out of hay, causing everything to crumble and fall as if a wrecking ball was hit into the side of a stone building. Suddenly, the world was black and white just like an old-school TV, yet it managed to be even darker than that. Unable to feel, the woman went through the days as if nothing mattered, acting like she was never a human being who was free and happy out in the world, not once in her miserable life. This incident caused the woman’s life to come to a screeching halt as if it were a bullet train that had to suddenly stop after going over one hundred miles an hour.
A woman who’s as bitter as a lime, one who had danced on the edge of multiple skysc****rs with the Reaper herself, was dim. The whispers and screams of the girl rang through her head, a who was once alive and happy was now pale and stiff. Though the woman did not commit the crime herself, she held herself accountable for the death, watching was more than enough than the crime itself. The woman lies like a corpse in its casket, though an uncomfortable one, one who sleeps on a large stone slab they called a bed, something they will reuse and give to some other unfortunate soul who winds up in that frigid, suffocating enclosure. All she can do is stare at the ceiling with tired eyes, knowing that she won’t be able to sleep peacefully for days, weeks, and even years to come.
Itsbyoshi Trail
What was once a large forest with a long trail now lies a lengthy pathway riddled with the debris of the old Saiky Estate and other horrific finds residing off to the side and away from the over-populated streets of Karakura. Many people have experienced dumbfounding and terrifying phenomena while others have heard stories of the twisted tales from a friend of a friend, stories about the Itsbyoshi Trail. The one that’s rumored to be haunted by spirits, whether good or bad, something people don’t find out until they go there themselves. Two specific spirits love guests and don’t mind people, Daisuke and Fumihito Sakamoto, also known as the Sakamoto Twins.
The Sakamotos
The Sakamoto family was a normal, well-known family of four, twin sons, and two mothers. The two boys were always seen together, usually at the beach’s Torii Gate. The twins were usually well-behaved, but they managed to get themselves into some bad situations due to their uncommon mischievous ideas and pranks they’d pull on everybody in the city, even on their parents. Even though the twins were good at their tricks, they always were able to be caught by either a passerby or one of the two mothers who warned them to be cautious of who they pranked.
Crime Rates
As years passed, the crime rate was on the rise, and not a slow one. The boys were warned of this, as well as being reminded to be cautious of whom they pull pranks on, yet they seemed to ignore these remarks. Unfortunately during these times, the crime rates had their moments of spiking up and then slowly decreasing, just to rapidly spike back up for no apparent reason. This was just one of the many times it had decided to spike not more than a few months after the twins turned the age of 12.
August 20th, 1841 - Friday, 8:36 PM | The Incident
After supper, the boys make their way down the Itsbyoshi pathway while the summer wind blows against their skin, sending tingles up their arms and to their faces. The rays of the setting sun poked through the tree’s leaves, leaving gentle kisses on their cheeks as if it were a loving mother tucking them in for bed. Even though the golden rays were shining, the world became dark and cold the further they walked down the path. Trees never seemed to lack moss, leaves rustled around in the cold, dense air as the blanket of warmth slowly left the twins, causing chills to flee down their spines. It was as if somebody’s gaze was on them, looking right through the twins, making the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. The once brave and confident twins were now shivering and holding back the urge to run back home, almost as if they were trapped bugs oh so desperately trying to get out of a trap to no avail. The boys’ gazes dart around the forest until two terror-filled shrieks fill the forest, echoing until they fade just at the barrier of the forest where nobody heard them. Everything stopped for a moment as everything went black.
Ghost Eyes
The crime scene was truly a gruesome and hateful act against two kids, though the most important detail of this crime was that both boys were missing their eyes. Unfortunately for the two boys, but fortunate for the man behind the killing, the twins didn’t seem to remember who was behind this all. All they were known to remember was their family, friends, and their names. As the twins were not able to rest in peace, they were left to freely roam the city of Karakura, though they decided to reside in the place that was made their graves at the ages of 12. Though the twins had passd years ago, they were frequently reported as being together and playing tricks on anybody who dared to enter the forest except for a good handful of people who walked the path of the eerie forest, exploring its secrets and finding out more about its horrific background.
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