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Young Jezabel was one of the many eaters that had the bad luck to end up on a shooter househould, although she was formally hired, instead of forced as it usually is. She was taken under the roof for the need to extra hands to take care of the kids that were going to born in the future.
Sadly her strong and youthful heart was weak under the charms of his new Patron, Mr.Cassius Lucock, and so after a -not so hidden- but very unproper romance a few months later fell pregnant with his child. Fearing for the future of his child, the family arranged her dismisal for the pregnant time to a neutral city until the kid was born, if it was a shooter it could return and pass as one of the lucock's but if not, he would be given to a orphanage or who knows...maybe even worse.
Gladly for her, the kid born was a gorgeous Shooter that was quickly added to the family numbers.

Jezabel worked a few more years in the house, staying close to her child but never as a mother, until she was fired since there was a bit of tension as the kid grew and she grew attached to him.
She was taken by a local doctor called Julius as a housemaid we she doesn't work much but at least it's away from a family she will never be part of.

i tried

Name: Agatha
Age: 51
Height: 5''1

Info:
Agatha is a maid recently hired by Chrona to take care of Princess Twilight and Roku (https://toyhou.se/105007.roku)
...but she mostly smacks Erian on the side of his head (https://toyhou.se/122143.erian ) and forces him to behave. She can be traditional with how she thinks a lady should act, which is why Agatha tends to be frustrated with Twilight's rebellious nature. Agatha comes off as a cold and strict woman, but in reality she cares for Roku, Twilight...and even Erian. She just isn’t the openly affectionate type.

She understands the young ones' traumatic history since she's no stranger to wars dividing family as her own family was separated due to starshooters raiding her hometown. Despite that, she seems to have put her past behind her and holds no hostility towards starshooters in town.
Agatha can be viewed as a motherly figure for the other stardragons…or as Erian calls her, the grandma (just not to her face though).

name: Alice
age:26
Height 5'3'


Alice is a young waitress at a local café who, though while she loves the tea she brews longs for more daring adventures.
With a love of nature and all its wonders most folk could easily find her out amidst in a field drawing and watching birds go by.
She's fairly soft spoken, but strongly opinionated and is known for being set in her ways, tough to reason with though she appears otherwise.
Shes a social butterfly and has many friends is almost always smiling away.
people have a love/hate relationship with her very very very cheesy jokes, she always laughs at her own with little snorts throughout

her hobbies include : study (nature) drawing, sewing, tea enthusiast
her likes: classical music, a nice spring morning, green tea ice cream
Her dislikes: loud sudden noises, pickles, and cracked china

The world was spinning. All around Willow, lights and alarms on the console of the little rounded ejection pod flashed and squealed. Claw-tipped fingers scraped at the controls. Not that it mattered, she had no idea how to fly this thing -- she had stolen the small craft from a family of lesser royals, interested in space travel, it certainly wasn't hers -- her attempts to get it under control were of empty desperation. She had wanted to make it to Earth, but not like this.

She had to survive. She had to find her son; stolen from her aboard a human spacecraft. Presumably hidden somewhere upon this foreign planet. A nearly feral growl rumbled in her throat, deadened behind her clenched teeth.

She. Would. Survive.

Pwup! A more pleasant noise chimed from the craft as Willow's finger touched one last button, bringing up a plasma barrier. The barrier of energy was the thin, shimmering thread of her salvation.

Willow was hurled hard into the console at the crash landing, as the ship wedged into the ground, but the barrier kept it in one piece, kept it from exploding into a ball of fire from a critical rupture of the fuel tank.

A breathless cry of pain was the cost, but it was beyond acceptable. She was alive. Shaking hands felt for the shape of the door, talons pressing into the crease of it to pry it open. Wedged into the ground at an awkward angle, she tumbled out onto the rough ground.

Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she smiled.

She would get to save her son.

---

Name: Willow
Widowed mother of a single son, Cypress, who was kidnapped by a human military exploration team and taken back to Earth, presumably to be a specimen. Unable to bear the thought of her child becoming such a test subject, possibly dying far from home, Willow stole a spacecraft from a wealthy family of nobles on her home planet and set off for the human's planet. Crash landing there, she took a job as a waitress at a quaint, very understanding and accomodating cafe to aid in making her way during her time spent there while she searched for where her son was being kept. Her long, old style maid-like outfit was tailored to help with minimizing the visibility of her... Differences while at work.
Height: 5' 2"
Personality: Strong willed, clever, and resourceful.

---

((PS: Thank you for this chance!))

Knit knit knit, did her masters say,
from breaking dawn till the evening day
Write write write, did her heart demand
Her words reaching far across the land.

For Berenziah was the secret author of a rather
controversial sort of books and blabber;
Of spun tales and dreams long broken
within the social cage of The Capital.

A fair stout maiden, our Berenziah was,
with sharp witty smile and needle torn paws.
Author of the books; Midnight Tears,
The Way to Spring, and Vestigial Fears.

And none would suspect the thread weaver
to drop the tapestry and pick the pen,
but word was the thread, and phrase was the stitch
and ink was the needle dipped time and again

Her books gentle but wrought in despair
in tales of eaters and corrupt heirs
in fables of sheep ruled by wolves.
A hopeless case, to say the least
for what else was there, in The Capital northeast?

A free life she sought, but none did naught
"Naught ought to fight for me or my like
Naught ought to restore my dignity or fight
No chants were heard, or blood did spill
For the slaves in the capital." she set down her quill.

(i tried the rhyme thing! I hope this is right)

First, voices. Dozens of thundering, echoing voices beckoned her down from the night sky -and suddenly- she began to fall.

“No,” she called out to her brothers and sisters, an otherworldly voice that broke through the still silence of the cosmos. “Sisters, please--” But the radiant bodies that were her kin could only look on as she descended.


A few weeks had passed since her arrival, that particular evening itself still somewhat of a fever dream; waking to a small crowd of dark hooded figures and the fires that they danced around as they sang to the night skies. To her.

From a shallow, smoldering pit in the earth she had climbed, disoriented.

“Wh..What?” She did not know her own voice! Let alone her own body, so shocked to look down at clawed hands that she did not notice the partially frozen, dumbfounded crowd of robed men and women who were just as astonished as she was. One moment, they were chanting - praising the stars in the sky and the creatures that kept them - the next? A brightness, and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground with enough force to shake the earth at their feet.

“Vega,” the voice that spoke an unfamiliar name was-oddly-a familiar one, beckoning her from her slumber, and when she opened those silvery eyes she saw at her bedside a crone of a woman. Robed in white, her hair was just as fair and her golden eyes were oddly soothing as they searched Vega’s face for words unspoken. Dame Diana was one of the town’s various keepers. A witch, and a woman of vast knowledge-the only one to pull the hood from her ivory head and reach out to the frightened, confused creature on the night that she came to them. Diana offered answers in the chaos, and a name when her mind was painfully blank.. Who was she?

“You’re going to be late,” the witch said simply, and was gone with a twist of stiff robes and the gentle ring of the baubles, charms, and sigils that she wore around her delicate wrists and throat. As mystical as the woman was, she was even kinder. If it weren’t for Diana, she would have no place to go. The woman only asked for a single favor in return; that Vega study alongside the similarly youthful magician’s that came to train under her. She could have asked for so very much more, demanded answers that Vega herself could not give--Not even she knew why she came to be, only that she suddenly just.. Was.

But she didn’t ask.

‘Right, that’s me,’ Vega thought as her feet hit the polished floorboards. She felt so utterly and completely.. Tired - but the longer she stood over the simple black and white attire that she’d set out for herself the previous evening, the more time she wasted. It wasn’t Diana’s lessons that she prepared for, but an adventure entirely her own. Today was the first day outside of the quaint victorian home and amongst the crowds. Specifically, a floral shop run by one of the Dame Diana’s own pupils-Kali-and her first part-time job. Diana did not want Vega’s money, but for the young thing to learn, and to grow--And a nice bouquet or two for her study would not hurt, now would it? One could dream.

They called it ‘The Hollow,’ a little town tucked deep into a series of mountains that surrounded the bay. As unusual as the city happened to be, it was its residents that set it apart from the rest. Rumors, legend, and tradition said that strange creatures resided in those misty hills. Witches, werewolves, vampires--oh my--but no matter the amount of curious and superstitious tourists that filled its streets in the summers, outsiders were hard pressed to find proof of any of it.

For the majority of those that shared Vega’s new hometown, it was as simple as erring on the side of caution-these humans were easy enough to fool- but for Vega, blending into the crowd took little thought, though she still required time and practice to perfect it. Once on the streets, it was the glow of the ‘moonstone’ upon her chest that allowed her to move freely despite the subtle differences in her appearance from person to person-none of it was ever worth the mention, of course-her hair just a little curlier or, or maybe she stood just an inch taller or shorter depending on who or what addressed her. The only thing of importance to note was that she appeared human enough to not draw a second or third look from those she passed by.

However, the creatures in The Hollow saw one another for what they truly were-monsters. At least that had been Vega’s assumption when she first laid eyes on the wolves that lingered in the bars of the mainstreet, or the horned demon-esque creatures that beckoned her into their various shops. What did they see? A wide-eyed and frightened.. Fawn? Some furred succubi? There was no name for her kind-not yet-and Diana was keen on keeping it that way until the time was right.

Slowly, she came to recognize almost every face that frequently crossed her path-the vampire that worked the little kiosk where Diana liked to order her early morning brew, and the raven haired Oni girl that stood just outside of the local market with a tray of samples, always willing to point her in the right direction when Vega found herself lost and overwhelmed. That morning was no different. A small paper cup filled to the brim with pretzels and chocolate in hand, a nod of the girl’s horned head and she finally found herself outside of the flower shop, a stand-alone bodega that read ‘The Black Bamboo,’ and the four-armed demi-Goddess that ran it. With a blink, the vision dissipated and an impressively tall, curvy, olive skinned woman took its place. Her hair was wild, nearly too thick to fit through the front door-somehow she managed-and around her waist she wore an apron that kept nearly every one of her tools safe for the keeping.

“I had a feeling this place would be hard to find, but where are my manners? You must be Vega. I’m Kali, and this,” she waved her hand around the shop as they entered. “Is my life.” She giggled, leaving the newcomer in her wake to stare, mouth agape, in awe of the vegetation that surrounded her. The woman had a type, that was for sure, a great majority of the life that grew there some variation of black or dark, brooding purple. “You’d think it would be too warm in the summers, too cold in the winters.. But I call myself fortunate,” the shopkeeper said with a sheepish grin and a wink to Vega as she began the morning routine. “I guess I’ve got a magic touch.. Which one is your favorite?” She asked as she worked, daintily pruning and neatening her most prized pots to start with.

“They’re all so beautiful,” Vega felt a fool. She looked round and round, trying her best to answer Kali quickly, but how could she possibly choose? Like the stars in the sky, every single one came together to paint a picture of the universe, each bright light no more or less important than the other.

“Mine can sometimes change, depending on my mood,” Kali’s voice broke through the uncertainty, and when Vega looked up from the sea of blacks and purples she realized that the woman held out to her her very own apron with a little square tag and her name written across it in what she could only assume was the florist’s handwriting. “That’s the best part of working here, you know? You’re always learning new things about these little guys, and about yourself. We’ll find your flower soon enough.”

There were no training manuals to follow, or videos to be watched-not that Vega understood the concept of either-but Kali dove head-first into the haphazard lessons she’d put together in anticipation of what would only be her second employee in the handful of years that she had been running The Black Bamboo. To Vega’s credit, she was a quick learner, every task that was given to her so new and challenging in its own way that the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes melted into hours before she even realized. The pre-arranged bouquets needed tending, their vases cleaned and filled with fresh water. Flowers needed to be counted, orders needed to be made, and the calendars scoured for upcoming events that the shop had been hired to create arrangements for.

“What about the temperatures?” Vega asked, inspecting a thermometer that was built into the older units that kept the more fragile flowers cool. Were they even running? The shop was perfectly calm and quiet, the only hum to be heard the town outside of its decorated glass doors. “These ones, here,” she pointed to a hanging pot, fumbling with the little guide that she’d been referring to whenever she encountered a new kind of flower. “Black pansies,” she read aloud. Really, they were a rich purple but so dark that one could easily mistake them for black. Utterly, beautifully, delicate. “They like cool weather, and the gauge isn’t even working..”

“..Is it really?” Kali questioned. She quickly stopped what she was doing, a square bit of green styrofoam base half finished and now forgotten upon the countertop as she strode across the shop in hushed concentration to glance at it all. Vega froze. Had she stepped out of line? Offended the woman?

“Don’t you worry,” Kali broke the fearful silence with a deep, bemused laugh. “I’ve been doing this awhile, I can usually tell when it’s about to warm up.. Lucky for me it never lasts too long.” It would take some time, but Vega eventually realized that it wasn’t just ‘luck,’ that stayed the weather in Kali’s favor, or brought the rains when it wasn’t.

“But I’m actually kind of worried about these guys,” Kali reached for the hanging pot of black pansies that Vega had pointed to and carefully pulled them down from the hook. “They’re my newest, and aren’t taking to the climate too kindly.. Maybe you can take them home and see what you can do? A little homework? They require a lot of patience.. And I’m afraid that just isn’t me.” Kali’s stormy blue eyes danced as Vega reached for the pot. She lived to see the awe that her flowers evoked, and Vega was truly smitten.

“And with that, we’ve run out of time. I’ll be closing up in an hour, and to you,” Kali looked down purposefully to her newest employee. “I say, have a good rest of your day.” Kali collected Vega’s apron and mini sheers with a smile and a wave as the girl stepped through The Black Bamboo’s glass doors and onto the street, leaving her in a comfortable, cool silence. “And I better finish up,” Kali clapped her hands and thunder rolled.

Had there always been rain clouds in the sky, or had Vega simply not noticed their approach? Her head bowed, she tried her best to shield the pansies from the rain that had begun to fall-soft at first-but quickly roaring to life seemingly as soon as she stepped onto the covered porch of what she realized was now home and strode through the heavy wooden door accented with stained glass in all manner of pastels.

“Is that you, Vega?” Dame Diana’s voice came loudly from her study, only a few doors down from the little room that was Vega’s very own. No answer. Rising from the armchair she went in search of the girl, curious and concerned. Maybe it had been a little soon to let her loose onto the world-maybe this grand experiment had failed.

She thought she would find Vega in a much worse state. Instead, Diana snuck the door open in time to watch the girl hang a little black pot on an empty hook over the four paned window. For a time she stood before it, watching the pot swing softly with the sound of the beating rain outside until it came to rest.

“Can I ask you something?” Vega mused, though she did not turn away from the black pansies and the beautifully gray gloom of the window behind it, or even glance toward Dame Diana.

“Always,” Diana replied.

“What does Vega mean?” This once, she did shift her silver eye to Diana’s reflection in the darkened window.

“Star.” Diana answered simply and there they stood in silence, allowing their thoughts to wander, lost in a rainstorm that would eventually dissipate as quickly as it had come.

It did not all suddenly make sense, there was no dam of long-lost memory that threatened to burst forth, but the calm of acceptance, the pride of something so simple as a name and new purpose. She turned toward the woman with a smile and said “..I think I’m going to pop out-I need a new watering can.”





END.



[ So sorry for the length, it kind of got away from me. If you would rather I post this as a submission and link to you, I would gladly do so.]

Congratulations! Your entry won you the design for the event!
We'll be noting you shortly with a link to your new beeb.

"Heeeey, kiddo, whatcha got cooking?"

Meryl turned from the stove to look at the source of the voice and... The "Shooter" again. Of course. She steeled herself; knowing that she was harmless didn't make her shape less viscerally terrifying to someone who only knew terror at StarShooter hands.

"Dinner."

"What's dinner, then?" The shooter clambered onto a counter like a weird gangly cat, only to hop immediately off as Meryl picked up a broom to poke her off with. She'd have to remember to clean that spot later.

"Hot chicken curry, pickled veg, and rice. Now shoo, and stop climbing on my counters!" Ugh, she hated how her voice cracked at that attempt at authority.

The shooter cackled, and scurried off on all fours with a parting "I look forward to it, and I know Blue and Grandkid will too!"

Meryl huffed, but went back to her work with no small degree of relief. Almagesti was exhausting to deal with, and limiting the amount of time she dealt with her was for the best.

She grabbed the container of stock before returning to the pot where the chicken was browning. The distraction had made her leave the pieces alone longer than she normally would have, so she quickly poured in the stock before it started to burn. The stock hissed violently as it hit the hot metal, but quickly subsided into a light simmer. She gathered the vegetables and carefully dropped them into the base, then went to gather the spices she had prepared. Freshly toasted, and carefully ground... They, too went into the curry. On it went, each part of the recipe carefully ingrained in her mind through years followed.

She stepped back from turning off the heat, and an hour had passed. It was done, and now she just had to let people know. She walked out of the kitchen, and was almost to the door that lead to the long winding halls of the fortress before she stopped.

The telltale sound of someone on her counters again.

She spun and ran back in to swat Almagesti for her counter crimes.

Name: Sophie
Age: 30

She was the un-popular girl in the village, despite the fact that as a young girl she was always surrounded by some friends of her own age, none of them came to play with her or talk to her. She never knew what was wrong with her or what he was doing wrong, but the kids didnt find her funny , cute or interestan like the other females.

Her youth was not desolated, but she always wanted that special one to play attention on her as they did with the other young ffemales of her age, but that never happened. Over time, she learned not to give importance to the subject of love, and she remained attached to the education she received from her mother, learning to identify healing herbs, which was the specialty of her father and beautiful flowers that could be used As decorations that they sold in the mating season in the store of ther mother. She saw it ironic but found great passion to sell these items and to care for the sick of the unlucky ones.

She soon realized that visiting those who needed medicine, taking care of births of new Stardragons babies, and helping girls to feel more confident in themselves, she had met a number of friends, who cared for her, now she no longer felt alone On the contrary, she was the popular girl of the village, with many friends, all taking care of her and wishing her good luck in her live.

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(I LOVE SO MUCH THIS SPECIEE!! Thanks for this oportunity!! )

Also, im so so sooooo sorry about my poor english TTwTT

This raffle is now CLOSED
Any entries past this point will not be counted.

Post here the secrets of the universe and any questions/concerns/commentary

Gl everyone!

I am concerned about the secrets of the universe

I'm scared of what's after death

Hey there!

I very much appreciate the opportunity, and was wondering if you had any rules on more graphic writing, or is this meant to stay PG?

Toss down a little warning in bold for whatever graphic content there may be, but otherwise you're golden ouo

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