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The ocean: a massive body of pure blue liquid, which rivals the sky. Its waves reflect the clouds when viewed from the sand bed underneath, and its color reflects its brother. Both are filled with serenity and peace. They present freedom to those who are willing to grasp it within their palms. Yet, they tease. One moment, a person believes they hold them in their hands, but the liquid, the air, the fluffy clouds… they escape. A lifetime could be spent in an attempt to catch up with them, but mere humans could never reach them. Only the truly free may embrace them. Humans are not free. They run on order. We cannot leave nature, others

Name: Jota Banehelm Age: 16 Race/Species: Llanderan Birthday: November 18 Birth Place: Afet city on the island Loun in the province Llander Residence when living with caretakers: Uvon, a small town on the island X-ran-ie in the province Llander Current Residence: Vave city on the island Sondast in the province Llander Current Occupation: Thief Sexual Orientation: Straight Marital Status: Single Sex/Gender: Male Heritage: His mother came from a long line of farmers while his father is the current Wise Man. Religious Beliefs: Believes in the God Osetto. Physical Appearance: • Hair: A long Mohawk down the middle of his head; bl

I picked up the notebook that was left alone, and slightly wrinkled from the previous rainfall, off the ground. "Death Note.." I mumbled aloud to myself. The scrawl of the title of the little book was something you'd find in a horror film. It made me grin with amusement. Whoever lost it was sure to miss it, but they'd never find it. Not after I did. I was keeping this. I opened the cover and took a look at the first page. I stared at it, perplexed, and smiled in a way that would disturb someone. 1. The human whose name is written in this note shall die 2. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their min

Thursday, April 20, 1871 Late Evening As the ribbon twisted and twirled, Brigitte watched it without much thought. She had become numb over the years, and even the simplest mystics that she used to find enjoyment from couldn’t wake her from her detachment. Brigitte, during this time, was recalling moments in her life that made her wonder how she turned out this way. Yet, no matter how many times she asked the questions, she already understood. It was how she handled the calamities that befell her, how she felt during those times, and how people around her treated her. She became the way she was because of the world’s affect on h

“The Windswept Plateau. Here exists a peaceful highland of steppes and fields, the terrain itself swaying to the tune of the endless plumes and currents of warm wind that caress the region. It is a world of rushed merriment, as dragons dive through and curl around gigantic clouds, racing one another through pockets of swirling cool air. The messages of the world all pass through this plateau, with each dragon travelling somewhere, and for some reason, guided only by the direction of the wind and a sense of exploration.” – Flight Rising World Map: The Windswept Plateau. Chapter One: Returning Home Centuries had passed since