IGN:
elizacinth [main] | untinseled [alt]
List your discord name and tag:
sstormbringerr
Additionally, do you have a microphone and can speak via discord?
Yes, I do!
Your time zone and current country of residence:
PST (UTC-08:00) | U.S.A
Link any previous community team applications if applicable:
https://schoolrp.net/threads/lore-team-application-1.50577/ [accepted]
Do you recognize you could be removed from the community team?
Yes!
List a few things that may obstruct your progress/development on the Lore Team.
Well, for starters, I wouldn’t like to say I lose motivation quickly, but I have a really bad habit of starting a lot of tasks due to gaining a sudden passion for them, only to bury previous ones with a load of new projects. (My ther[apist] says I likely have ADHD which I think is why this happens.) Needless to say, however, something that counteracts this is my large sense of duty. If there is ever something I am assigned, I will be sure to follow through and complete it, no matter what. Even if it takes me forever, even if I have to force myself to work on it when I really do not want to, I will get it done. So, hopefully it isn’t too big of a problem. Please feel free to let me know if you think I’m doing too much that I won’t follow up on - I try to be self-aware of this sort of ordeal, but it also just. . . happens. However, I believe that working in a team setting will be very helpful to quell some of these tendencies since there are lots of other people to hold me accountable!
What makes you passionate about writing?:
Worldbuilding and being able to escape to fantasies of my own creation have been my longest lasting hobby. I love being able to put my ideas to pen and paper (or, rather, Google Doc) and receive feedback, love, et cetera from those around me. Writing good lore/stories makes me feel very accomplished as an individual - especially when small details begin to click, or things become intricate enough to the point where it is so easy to continue on, to keep going and never lose momentum. It may be farfetched, but in my future I wish to release a book at some point : granted, I know it’s a lot of work.
I might have been yapping a bit there, but in case you want a simpler cut list: I like making things click, I like fleshing out characters, I like expressing myself, I like being able to serve others with my own literary works.
Do you have any previous experience with writing lore or creative writing as a general aspect?:
So, funny story. . .
On a serious note, yes.
elizacinth [main] | untinseled [alt]
List your discord name and tag:
sstormbringerr
Additionally, do you have a microphone and can speak via discord?
Yes, I do!
Your time zone and current country of residence:
PST (UTC-08:00) | U.S.A
Link any previous community team applications if applicable:
https://schoolrp.net/threads/lore-team-application-1.50577/ [accepted]
Do you recognize you could be removed from the community team?
Yes!
List a few things that may obstruct your progress/development on the Lore Team.
Well, for starters, I wouldn’t like to say I lose motivation quickly, but I have a really bad habit of starting a lot of tasks due to gaining a sudden passion for them, only to bury previous ones with a load of new projects. (My ther[apist] says I likely have ADHD which I think is why this happens.) Needless to say, however, something that counteracts this is my large sense of duty. If there is ever something I am assigned, I will be sure to follow through and complete it, no matter what. Even if it takes me forever, even if I have to force myself to work on it when I really do not want to, I will get it done. So, hopefully it isn’t too big of a problem. Please feel free to let me know if you think I’m doing too much that I won’t follow up on - I try to be self-aware of this sort of ordeal, but it also just. . . happens. However, I believe that working in a team setting will be very helpful to quell some of these tendencies since there are lots of other people to hold me accountable!
What makes you passionate about writing?:
Worldbuilding and being able to escape to fantasies of my own creation have been my longest lasting hobby. I love being able to put my ideas to pen and paper (or, rather, Google Doc) and receive feedback, love, et cetera from those around me. Writing good lore/stories makes me feel very accomplished as an individual - especially when small details begin to click, or things become intricate enough to the point where it is so easy to continue on, to keep going and never lose momentum. It may be farfetched, but in my future I wish to release a book at some point : granted, I know it’s a lot of work.
I might have been yapping a bit there, but in case you want a simpler cut list: I like making things click, I like fleshing out characters, I like expressing myself, I like being able to serve others with my own literary works.
Do you have any previous experience with writing lore or creative writing as a general aspect?:
So, funny story. . .
On a serious note, yes.
- LORE TEAM [2022-2023] | I’ll begin with the obvious. If accepted, this wouldn’t be my first time on the team. When I was first welcomed by demurity in 2022, I was very excited to begin writing with others to make official things for the server. Though, in hindsight, I never contributed a whole lot throughout my time spent on the team, I’d like to think I did a lot of behind-the-scenes work. Oftentimes, I would be the one proofreading others’ writing to double check it for grammatical errors or word choice. I also wrote a few of the location heads for the server - which I am unsure if they still function - namely the one at the lighthouse and the one at the church. I feel like I am probably forgetting some stuff, so my apologies if this seems too concise.
- WRITING CONTESTS | Over my years, mostly throughout high school, I’ve participated in a fair share of writing contests. Granted, many of these involved poem submissions rather than short story - though, I do like to think both forms of writing utilize many of the same ‘muscles’. Of course, poetry is more short-form and involves less characterization than, persay, a narrative may require, however both need careful word choice and a sense of sophistication to ensure a fulfilling end result. If you would like to see any of my poems for any reason, feel free to ask me and I will be more than willing to share.
- OTHER SERVER RELATED THINGS | Whether it be writing lore for gangs, families, characters - you name it. I remember one of my ways of making yen all the way back when I first rejoined was through being a writer in some tailoring server. I would write backstories for people, and get paid. Additionally, for my friends, I sometimes act as a sort of. . . Grammarly, I suppose. Proofreading actions for sports tryouts, writing them descriptions, proofreading lore, more proofreading - basically, a lot of proofreading. Which, I know, isn’t necessarily the same as handcrafting your own story, so it may be a little out of place listed here - but I put a lot of thought into my proofreading. A lot of the time, it involves completely rewriting sections, changing the words and meaning to better suit the vision as I see it. I take pride in being able to act as a safeguard for people, yet I still wish to preserve the integrity of their original works - and I never want to make it seem as though my writing is so much better than theirs.
In your own words, give your definition of lore:
I said practically these same words on my last application, and my thoughts still remain the same - so sorry if this sounds a little repetitive/broken record-ish.
Lore is a backbone in any media source - whether it be a video game or a television series. How the world works, why that is so, how the cultural and historical aspects shape a character’s being; these are all the vital inquiries that are answered through lore. It is only when an entity’s past is established that its future can be made - evident through things such as character creation, the development of a personal story, et cetera. Frankly, there is nothing without lore, for what is there to go off of as a basis for quite literally everything? Whether it be an obvious component or not, everything can always be linked back to lore : meaning it should be written properly and with caution.
WRITING PROMPTS:
#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.
The lioness’s throat was tight around her pride, a quality that would surely one day lead to the unraveling of her careful image. Brown eyes were cold with contempt as they locked onto the prey who dare show itself in front of her; hands folded behind her back to carefully suppress the urge to sink her claws into the man. Rather, she simply glowered up at him as she took a careful step forward, followed by another.
“Do tell me, sir, why you think it is proper of you to dare rear your head in my home?”
“Come on, Iseul, cut the bullshit. You and I both know why I’m here.”
“Miss Chae,” she cut in, voice cool and steady.
Her porcelain face remained lax, not betraying even an ounce of the deep fury coursing through her veins. It sent fire through every inch of her body, boiling madly under her skin and threatening to overflow. Truly, she considered herself to be a patient woman - after all, Iseul Chae was the pinnacle of elegance - and to uphold her family’s status, she had to be the golden child. The oldest daughter, the empress amongst court-dwellers; she had to be the one to continue on the legacy of it all, to train her siblings to be prepared for the very same.
“Rid this place of your presence at /once./ You know the consequences, sir.”
“Iseul.”
“Miss Chae.”
A heavy silence encompassed the pair, the only other noise in the vicinity being the distant sounds of the maids walking through the halls. Moonlight washed in through the large windows, bathing them both in its soft glow – despite the palpable tension clawing at the air. The lioness remained silent for just a beat more, lips pursed carefully, before a perfectly manicured hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her nails were long and sharp, a silent threat to the gazelle threatening her home that she would not be afraid to spill its blood across her floorboards.
“I’m sorry.”
“I do not wish to hear any more of your nonsense. Please, if you need an escort to the door, I am more than willing to have that arranged.”
Blood rushed in her ears as she turned sharply on her heel, preparing to return to her quarters. Grinding her teeth together, the misty sheen her eyes adopted seemed more prominent under the face of the moon. Thankfully, her back was turned, no sign of weakness on display.
“I deserve to see her. I’m - I’m her fucking father, too.”
Iseul stopped dead in her tracks, swallowing harshly around the sudden emotion clogging her airway.
“I do not know what you mean, sir. It is late, and I will call for a taxi to take you home.”
The sound of heel against hardwood echoed through the silent hall.
“And please, mind your language. There are children in this residency.”
Bewildered, the man was left behind as she sauntered off to return to her bedroom. Her chin was held high, poised elegantly, and her spine was perfectly straight. Truly, she seemed as though she were the pure essence of maturity.
However, the cold look in her eyes had returned, and the moonlight caught against a metallic glint strapped to her thigh.
[WC: 548 words]
#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.
On the second floor of the school, the women’s bathroom is said to be a proponent of strange activity. Sometimes the lights seem to flicker, or someone could swear they left the door open, only for it to be closed when they blink. Many are quick to brush it off, saying there are logical explanations. Faulty electrical engineering. A strong wind sourced from a near air conditioning unit. Students playing pranks on one another.
However, none of these explanations could shed any light on the mirror.
Mio Nakamura was the average schoolgirl. She had a few close friends, but knew many - and many knew her. She attended her classes faithfully, paid attention to what her teachers had to say, and did just mediocre on examinations. Yet, despite it all, she was content with her, frankly, very boring life.
That is, until one day, where she found herself staying late to prepare decorations for the school’s Sports Day festivities. Mio had just finished painting the last character on a running-themed poster, and had gone to the bathroom to wash her skin of the substance. Her gaze was focused on her fingers, ensuring she got every last speck of pink off of her - until finally, she looked up.
Whatever it was that stared back at her caused her to scream, loudly. If there were anyone else present in the school, they’d have heard her cry from anywhere within campus. Her reflection was. . . evidently, still somewhat her - but also, so horrifically disfigured that she could never imagine it being her. The student’s bright eyes were horribly bloodshot, wide and empty as though she wasn’t really seeing anything through them. A pair of horns had sprouted from her forehead, curling upward toward the sky. It was as though skin was melting from the bone, drooping downward in ways so disgusting she felt as though she were going to throw up. Desperately, wet hands reached upward to claw at her own face; surely she really hadn’t transformed into an awful yōkai within the few hours she had been left painting.
Though, the more she stared, the more disturbing it all got, and the less she could deny the truth of it all. Mio felt an ugliness spread through her entire being, and her nails began digging into the flesh of her cheeks, forehead, nose, as she began attempting to salvage whatever was left of her. Of course, all this achieved was blood beginning to drip down toward the floor, leaving crimson trails over her disfigured image. She began wailing loudly, unable to keep her terror in anymore. Finally, having near reached the brink of insanity, she made the choice she felt was the necessary next step.
Her lips pursed together - nearly becoming one in the process - as she reared her head back, before slamming it forward into the mirror. Glass shards shattered all across the floor, and her corpse fell unceremoniously in a heap. Innocent, brown eyes were unseeing as her unblemished skin began bleeding from the various lacerations. There, she would lay the entire night, until the janitor stumbled across her lifeless body the next morning.
Some say Mio Nakamura was never real, or that, at the least - she was not who the story paints her to be. She wasn’t some poor girl who was tricked by a yōkai, but rather, an outcast driven to unfortunate means by her peers. No records show anything of the ordeal - meaning they were either destroyed or never existed. Both theories are plausible; though the former is much more popular, especially amongst current students.
Yet, no matter whose recount of the events one chooses to indulge in, there is no clear explanation as to why the leftmost mirror in that bathroom seems to never show any reflection.
[WC: 638 words]
[Additional note: this was done with the concept of the ungaikyō in mind!]
#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.
The lioness’s throat was tight around her pride, a quality that would surely one day lead to the unraveling of her careful image. Brown eyes were cold with contempt as they locked onto the prey who dare show itself in front of her; hands folded behind her back to carefully suppress the urge to sink her claws into the man. Rather, she simply glowered up at him as she took a careful step forward, followed by another.
“Do tell me, sir, why you think it is proper of you to dare rear your head in my home?”
“Come on, Iseul, cut the bullshit. You and I both know why I’m here.”
“Miss Chae,” she cut in, voice cool and steady.
Her porcelain face remained lax, not betraying even an ounce of the deep fury coursing through her veins. It sent fire through every inch of her body, boiling madly under her skin and threatening to overflow. Truly, she considered herself to be a patient woman - after all, Iseul Chae was the pinnacle of elegance - and to uphold her family’s status, she had to be the golden child. The oldest daughter, the empress amongst court-dwellers; she had to be the one to continue on the legacy of it all, to train her siblings to be prepared for the very same.
“Rid this place of your presence at /once./ You know the consequences, sir.”
“Iseul.”
“Miss Chae.”
A heavy silence encompassed the pair, the only other noise in the vicinity being the distant sounds of the maids walking through the halls. Moonlight washed in through the large windows, bathing them both in its soft glow – despite the palpable tension clawing at the air. The lioness remained silent for just a beat more, lips pursed carefully, before a perfectly manicured hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her nails were long and sharp, a silent threat to the gazelle threatening her home that she would not be afraid to spill its blood across her floorboards.
“I’m sorry.”
“I do not wish to hear any more of your nonsense. Please, if you need an escort to the door, I am more than willing to have that arranged.”
Blood rushed in her ears as she turned sharply on her heel, preparing to return to her quarters. Grinding her teeth together, the misty sheen her eyes adopted seemed more prominent under the face of the moon. Thankfully, her back was turned, no sign of weakness on display.
“I deserve to see her. I’m - I’m her fucking father, too.”
Iseul stopped dead in her tracks, swallowing harshly around the sudden emotion clogging her airway.
“I do not know what you mean, sir. It is late, and I will call for a taxi to take you home.”
The sound of heel against hardwood echoed through the silent hall.
“And please, mind your language. There are children in this residency.”
Bewildered, the man was left behind as she sauntered off to return to her bedroom. Her chin was held high, poised elegantly, and her spine was perfectly straight. Truly, she seemed as though she were the pure essence of maturity.
However, the cold look in her eyes had returned, and the moonlight caught against a metallic glint strapped to her thigh.
[WC: 548 words]
#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.
On the second floor of the school, the women’s bathroom is said to be a proponent of strange activity. Sometimes the lights seem to flicker, or someone could swear they left the door open, only for it to be closed when they blink. Many are quick to brush it off, saying there are logical explanations. Faulty electrical engineering. A strong wind sourced from a near air conditioning unit. Students playing pranks on one another.
However, none of these explanations could shed any light on the mirror.
Mio Nakamura was the average schoolgirl. She had a few close friends, but knew many - and many knew her. She attended her classes faithfully, paid attention to what her teachers had to say, and did just mediocre on examinations. Yet, despite it all, she was content with her, frankly, very boring life.
That is, until one day, where she found herself staying late to prepare decorations for the school’s Sports Day festivities. Mio had just finished painting the last character on a running-themed poster, and had gone to the bathroom to wash her skin of the substance. Her gaze was focused on her fingers, ensuring she got every last speck of pink off of her - until finally, she looked up.
Whatever it was that stared back at her caused her to scream, loudly. If there were anyone else present in the school, they’d have heard her cry from anywhere within campus. Her reflection was. . . evidently, still somewhat her - but also, so horrifically disfigured that she could never imagine it being her. The student’s bright eyes were horribly bloodshot, wide and empty as though she wasn’t really seeing anything through them. A pair of horns had sprouted from her forehead, curling upward toward the sky. It was as though skin was melting from the bone, drooping downward in ways so disgusting she felt as though she were going to throw up. Desperately, wet hands reached upward to claw at her own face; surely she really hadn’t transformed into an awful yōkai within the few hours she had been left painting.
Though, the more she stared, the more disturbing it all got, and the less she could deny the truth of it all. Mio felt an ugliness spread through her entire being, and her nails began digging into the flesh of her cheeks, forehead, nose, as she began attempting to salvage whatever was left of her. Of course, all this achieved was blood beginning to drip down toward the floor, leaving crimson trails over her disfigured image. She began wailing loudly, unable to keep her terror in anymore. Finally, having near reached the brink of insanity, she made the choice she felt was the necessary next step.
Her lips pursed together - nearly becoming one in the process - as she reared her head back, before slamming it forward into the mirror. Glass shards shattered all across the floor, and her corpse fell unceremoniously in a heap. Innocent, brown eyes were unseeing as her unblemished skin began bleeding from the various lacerations. There, she would lay the entire night, until the janitor stumbled across her lifeless body the next morning.
Some say Mio Nakamura was never real, or that, at the least - she was not who the story paints her to be. She wasn’t some poor girl who was tricked by a yōkai, but rather, an outcast driven to unfortunate means by her peers. No records show anything of the ordeal - meaning they were either destroyed or never existed. Both theories are plausible; though the former is much more popular, especially amongst current students.
Yet, no matter whose recount of the events one chooses to indulge in, there is no clear explanation as to why the leftmost mirror in that bathroom seems to never show any reflection.
[WC: 638 words]
[Additional note: this was done with the concept of the ungaikyō in mind!]
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