IGN:
Teagansy [Main]
Teag4n [Cool Alt]
List your discord:
Teagansy
Additionally, do you have a microphone and can speak via discord?
Yes, I do own a microphone and can speak at any time as long as I am free.
(Meaning when I am not at work haha…)
Your time zone and current country of residence:
PST, I live in the US.
(Some might say that i am a california gurl)
Link any previous community team applications if applicable:
2022 | Staff application
Do you recognize you could be removed from the community team?
Yes, I do recognize that and understand that I can be removed at any given time.
List a few things that may obstruct your progress/development on the Lore Team.
I don’t really have anything that could obstruct that, other than being busy from time to time with my irl job and two factions I am in. I don’t believe those would really stop me from my process and development since I do enjoy writing every night before I go to bed. I usually am able to get over obstacles quite fast unless my mental health gets in the way at that time.
What makes you passionate about writing?:
I like to look back on stuff I write a lot and reread it. I enjoy writing a lot of things, trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Story telling / writing lore for anything is honestly something I have enjoyed for a long time. I recently just finished an 8 page (yeah ik, it's A LOT) lore story for my family that I am the lead of. I also love ART and I see writing as a form of it and I think it would be pretty cool to have the chance to write more but for other people instead of just myself.
Another thing that I enjoy about writing is that other people get to read it! It makes me really happy when other people are proud or enjoy reading the stuff I write since I do work hard on it and put a lot of my feelings into it. Omg. . and getting feedback is the absolute best! I love having stuff to work on when I can and just improve on stuff that I may lack in. I wasn’t always a good writer, it took me a lot of time and writing to be able to improve and express feelings through it. I had a lot of obstacles keeping up with everyone else’s writing skills and did give up for some time before getting back into it! I do believe that I have improved a lot since then and I want to keep improving to be the best I can!
Okay and last thing! When I write I feel like I can envision what I am writing about, like I am watching from the sidelines and am just waiting for everything to happen. It is kind of weird but. . i enjoy it a lot! It is almost like I get to see first hand how my characters' personalities play out. This is definitely one of my MAIN reasons that I enjoy writing any type of lore!
(Even though I am not that great at folk-lore ;^;)
Do you have any previous experience with writing lore or creative writing as a general aspect?:
I have not had that much experience with lore writing, except for writing an 8 page lore background for the Santos family. I am still working on writing more for the family since I do need to include other players and plan to write more for other characters. I also had a lore journal that I wrote for one of my characters! Not sure if that counts but I enjoyed it a lot and hope I can write more stuff like that for my other characters too.
In your own words, give your definition of lore:
I see lore as a story that is written which can be about almost anything! It could be about a place, a character or even an object. Lore gives a story that everyone can read on and find out where something or someone started from. Like where they originated from! Lore gives meaning to everything, without lore. . who would we even be? Lore breathes life into everything, I know that sounds cheesy but it’s true. It provides us with context and depth to everything! Literally everything!! It gives everything a rich background and history instead of just some boring blank slate.
If you think about it, even a simple baseball has lore, like where was it made? And when. . and where has it been?! Which games has it been a part of? What significant moments in sports history has it witnessed? Who has held it, thrown it, or hit it? Each mark that lays on that baseball shows where it has been and the story behind it. Everything and everyone has a story to tell.
WRITING PROMPTS:
RULES
You are expected to write in the third person, and narrate in a reliable and neutral tone. Do not focus your prompts specifically on one character’s perspective, but on a bigger picture.
There is a 300-1000 word limit that applies to both prompts. Because of flow, if you need to go a little over or under, you are permitted to, but as soon as a prompt is 100 words outside the limit, you will be automatically denied.
The effort and quality of both prompts will be taken into consideration when we accept applications.
#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.
![1717136922064.jpeg 1717136922064.jpeg](http://schoolrp.net/data/attachments/64/64415-7fc5c5c47bd7fc7051e2d77f007dbfed.jpg)
“Tell me, Mizuki. How did we get here?”
He spoke with a stern voice, trying his best to keep his composure. A tall male figure stood, holding to what seemingly looked like a taser.
Then there was a female, eyes that showed nothing but dread and guilt. Her long black hair swayed in the moonlight that shone down on both the figures who stood beneath it. Mizuki Mori was her name, her looks deceiving from what she actually was. They both stood apart, near an abandoned well in the mountains and a small hut. Nothing left but memories.
“Mizu, look at yourself.”
Mizu looked down, she was dressed in all black. . blood splatters all over her shoes. Mori’s gaze drifted back up, her eyes wide like an alert owl. She felt as if the whole world stopped, looking up towards the moon and laughing silently. She clearly was in no good state of mind. The man who spoke tipped his hat off, holding it to his side, revealing his full face. Detective Kanazawa, the father to her ‘best friend’. The wind whistled in the back, tree branches creaking and the overgrown grass flowing. Fresh air, the smell of flowers and dust.
“Where is Seijun?”
The girl spoke softly, a gaze as sharp as a lioness stalking her prey’s next move. Kanazawa stood there, his hand slightly trembling. Mizu’s demeanor changed, her eyes suddenly softening, and a smile that could make anyone stop in thought.
“Mizu. . , please don’t-”
The detective's voice broke, his eyes filled with tears and pure hatred. He couldn’t help but feel that way, afterall he just found out that Mizu killed his daughter, her best friend but most of all her soulmate. Who would have ever seen this coming? Clearly not Seijun! Mizu stepped back, moving her hands to cover her face. She took a moment to herself, her eyes filling with confusion, almost as if she was a totally different person.
“Wh. . what?”
The highschool girl slumped down, keeping her hands over her face before moving them in front of her, her heart skipped a beat, looking down at the hands that were covered in blood. Everything crumbled around her, her whole world taking a dark twist, she doesn’t remember anything. Nothing.
“Did I do something? What. . did I do?”
Mizu’s face turned pale, her skin glistening, even in tragedy, she was as beautiful as the moon. Kanazawa’s voice was comforting, soothing to the ears, but they didn’t match the look on his face, the look that held anger and regret. What was it that he regretted? It was letting his daughter meet Mizuki, the highschooler who took away his daughter from him, his only family.
“What did YOU do? Really?”
A soft laugh escaped Kana’s mouth, he looked up towards the moon and then back on Mizu.
“Mizuki, you need to come with me.”
The detective fought against the voices that pierced through his head, voices that filled with pure hatred and sadness. He hated the look that Mizu held on her face, her innocent looking eyes, eyes that held a whole story behind them. A town full of violence, enough to break a person. Mizuki was the victim to that, as many people are. She wasn’t meant for Karakura, it changed her. . . , she was no longer the Mizu that everyone once knew, the sweet girl who always knew how to make a room light up. Now she was like a blank canvas, slowly being painted black, no light left to fill.
“She left me.”
Mori spoke softly, making direct eye contact with the detective.
“Mizuki, not now.”
Kanazawa couldn’t talk about it, he was close to breaking. It was already enough to be standing in front of the girl, to have her eyes looking at him as if she were an injured fawn.
“Why can’t I remember anything?”
The teen was in shock, grasping at her hair in frustration. Kanazawa lost himself, he sighed loudly before beginning to walk past Mizu, getting behind her and placing cuffs around her wrists.
“Mizuki Mori, You are under arrest for first degree murder on Seijun Kanazawa.”
The detective's voice broke, behind him stood three other officers, waiting on the sidelines in case anything happened. That night, Kanazawa lost two daughters, Seijun and sweet Mizuki. He looked after her, but she broke and kept on breaking into smaller pieces– the cracks only becoming bigger before she finally lost herself fully. Mizuki Mori, the name that will always ring throughout his head. The effect of living in Karakura, she just happened to be one of the unlucky ones.
In the back of Kanazawa’s mind, Mizu died.
All he could think was
“I hate you.”
[WC - 785]
(totally not a romantic homicide reference at the end)
#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.
In the dark night lies a hospital in the heart of Karakura. Its walls carried history and whispers of the long forgotten past. Among the many rumored tales told about this place, none were as chilling as the legend of the morgue and its unsettling hallways. One thing that stood out the most about this legend was a word that no one shall ever say out loud. It was said that those who risk saying the cursed word “quiet” would summon the restless spirits of the departed, those who linger in the hospital after death. . roaming the hallways.
Long ago, a young doctor named Aiko Moore was making her rounds in the poorly lit hallways. The moon glistened, a freezing breeze filling the outside. The emergency room had been unusually calm at that time, and in the moment of the naive relief she had, she whispered to herself. .
“It’s so quiet tonight. .”
Not even seconds after the words left her lips, the lights began to flicker, a cold wind swept through the door, and the curtains swayed in the wind.
Aiko felt the breeze, sending a chill down her spine as the once comforting silence turned into an ominous feeling. She tried ignoring that feeling, heading downstairs to finish up some work. She felt the shadows around her moving, and faint whispering that echoed throughout the empty halls. Aiko set down her paperwork, heading back towards the stairs . . step . . step. . CREEEEKK, she stopped in her tracks. . frozen in fear. A soft, mournful cry was heard down the hall, right where the morgue was. Against her better judgment, she stayed still and listened.
The cry only grew louder, creeeek CREEEK, the floorboards creaked loudly but no one was seen in sight. As Aiko looked down the empty hallway, she clutched her radio and spoke into it
“Is anyone in the morgu-”
BANG- , the morgue door slammed open, and a dark, unsettling feeling spilled out within it. Aiko could have swore that she saw something. . a figure perhaps. The young doctor was close to putting her radio away until she heard someone speak over it. . jeez, that sure made her heart stop!
“Full lobby due to the storm! I am broadcasting for more doctors.”
Aiko had no idea that a storm was going on, but she felt relieved to hear another voice speak. Aiko turned back around, heading towards the stairs once more.
“Maybe I just need sleep. .”
She spoke softly to herself, not expecting a response back.
“Don’t leave.”
Aiko stopped, slowly turning her head to look back down the hall. The morgue door was closed again, she could have sworn that it swung open. . she didn’t believe in spirits but she knew something was down there with her. The doctor quickly high heeled towards the stairs then the power went out. Her radio went off again
“Crap! The power cut out! Is anyone near the basement? The backup generator is right next to the morgue. I am busy with patients!”
Aiko’s heart pounded in her chest, she stumbled back against the wall. . thinking about what to do. She had to do it, maybe she will get a promotion some day.
“I- I can do it.”
Dr. Moore sighed into the radio
“Thank you, Aiko!”
She nodded, putting her radio in her pocket for the time being. The air downstairs only grew colder, especially the closer she got towards the morgue. The generator lied to the room next to the morgue, just her luck. . THUD! A loud noise came from the closet, a bunch of cleaning sprays fell out into the hallway.
“Oh. . god. Okay. . I got this!”
Aiko nodded, reassuring herself as much as she could. The young doctor tried her best to ignore the whispers that bounced off the walls, and more that creaked through the morgue’s door. Aiko regretted saying the word “quiet”, surely that is what caused this whole situation! She mustered up her courage and SPRINTED down the hall, not peeking an eye to the morgue at all. It took her 5 minutes to figure out how to turn the power back on, a noise came out her radio, making her jump
“Goodjob, Aiko. I owe you one.”
Aiko was relieved, but after this. . she was sure no one would believe her about what happened down there. Finally, she made her way back upstairs. As soon as she made it up, she felt safe. Aiko learned her lesson to never say that cursed word again. In the end, Aiko never really knew if those voices were real, but it all felt like a fever dream. . or nightmare you could say. Ever since then, she did everything she could to never step foot in the morgue again. It wasn’t long before Aiko moved away from Karakura, she told many of what happened but few believed her.
The tale lingers till this very day, serving as a chilling reminder of the power behind words. The hospital remains a place of healing, but also a place where the past and present coexist, bound together by the fragile thread of silence.
[WC - 851]
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