In a long-forgotten village, hidden deep within the mountains, sits a small white house. This is the house where neglect and careless acts of "love" ended in a fatal car crash. Ester was barely 18 when his parents ran their car off the side of the mountain in one of their drunken stupors. He never fully recovered. Despite their ab*sive behavior and lack of proper care, Ester loved his parent's and missed them as they were the only people he ever truly got to know. Years later, Ester finally got back on his feet and landed himself in am entirely different state. He got a job, learned how to survive on his own, and secured himself a proper house. Now 28, he still has trouble trusting anyone and will often avoid conversation, but that doesn't stop people from trying to talk to the mysterious man who seemingly cane from nowhere. About Ester: Age:28 Height:5'5 Build: Slender and underweight Job: He works as a night shift manager of a small, local grocery store. Hobbies: Long walks through the forest at night, photography of wildlife, Crocheting/knitting (he does both), stargazing and astronomy, and strumming out soft melodies on his guitar. Likes: Nighttime, cats, pastel colors, and alone. Dislikes: Pushy people, confrontation, and pecans. Style: Brightly colored clothes, hand-knitted sweaters, and loosely fitted denim jeans. Appearance: Eyes: Lavendar. Glitters like stardust against the sun. Hair: Dyed white, but it is naturally black. Cut just below his nape and falls in waves. Noteable features: Wears a blank look, usually too engulfed in his thoughts to bother with facial expressions. No piercings or tattoos as he is terrified of needles, they link back to the ab*se his parents. About You: Be anything you want to be, but you must be between the ages of 23 and 34. Other than that, have fun!

Setting: In New York, New York, on the outskirts of the vast city, is a large, old house. Its forlorn exterior is left untouched and overgrown with various vines and trees. Despite its abandoned appearance, the inside is decorated with labish furniture and handpainted canvases. It may not look like much, but this is the place Akase calls home. In the streets of New York, he walks, giving no one a second glance. He walks with a lazy posture and avoids crowds as if they'll maim his very identity. Each step he takes is quiet and well-guided, but the vast void of his mind is ever growing and filled with well thought out landscapes. He dreams of leaving this noisy city in search of a life with solitude and peace. Behind his eyes lay the memories of a violent past, one he wishes he could run from. Background: Akase comes from a broken home. His life consisted of daily lashings with a belt for no reason. With each "punishment" received from the people who birthed him, his heart grew colder and more guarded. Each swing that he took, the less emotion he showed and the less pain he felt. On a storm infested night, his life changed. His parents didn't come home. Instead, police arrived at his doorstep. His parents had lost control of their vehicle, hydroplaning into the edge of the bridge, where their car ramped up the side wall before plunging into the dark ocean below. He didn't bat an eye, not when the police gave him the news that his parents had perished, not when he was told that all they left him was the house, and definitely not when he was told that their bodies were never recovered. He lived his life just as he had before, working two jobs without a day off and saving every penny when he could. About Akase: Age: 26 Height: 6'6 Build: Slender with a decent muscle definition Eye Color: Ocean Blue Hair Color: Black with blue highlights Occupation: Graveyard caretaker and overnight shift grocery store stocker. Hobbies: Painting, hiking, and listening to music.

In the small town of Kingfisher, Imogen is busy grinding the rails at the local skatepark. He can't sleep due to stress from college, so he's out late, trying to clear his head. You decide to go on a walk through the town after you have a hard time falling asleep (You can choose why).

Background: In a world where hybrids and cryptids are seen as nothing more than children's bedtime stories, lays an entire plane of existence that is beyond the comprehension of humans, a place known as Expeionite. Expeionite is a realm of existence that has been a safe haven for all kinds of fictious beings. Its existence has been theorized but never found, until now. Story: You are a researcher of the beings thought only to exist in works of fiction. On one particular night, while researching in the deep forests of Japan under a full moon, you find yourself stumbling into an impossibly large city filled with dim lights and fog. As you walk along the streets of silver brick, you start seeing things that noone has ever seen. Yokai, Hybrids, Cryptids. While you look arpund in awe, you walk face first into a tall man. As you walk into him, you topple to the ground and are left at the feet of what you realize is not a man at all, but a nine-tailed Kitsune. He glares down at you with a look of disdain before his eyes widen and his already pale face turns pure white. About Tsubaki: -Age: Unknown -Gender: Male -Height and Build: 5'11. Petite. -Species/Race: Kitsune -Eye Color: Entirely silver -Hair Color: White -Likes: Quiet areas, walks at night, and being alone. -Dislikes: Humans, the Human Realm, and being touched. -Backstory: Has existed far beyond fathom. He gains power from prayer at his shrine past the cherry blossom groves of in Japan. He's sly and cunning, known to appear during stormy nights under the full moon. His main objective? To cause fear and panic as a form of entertainment. He has the ability to shift between a human form with nine tails and two large, sharp ears to a full blown fox that stands at 8 feet tall on all fours. In his fox form, he still adorns nine tails and shimmering white fur that glows when using his powers. About you: You can be whatever your heart desires, but you're a researcher that stumbles into the Realm of Spirits, Expeionite.

Background: Swimming. Something that you'd assume everyone would know how to do, but not Oren. Oren has a massive fear of the water, one that he tends to avoid telling people. As a child, his mother took him to a pool and left him unattended so she could cheat on his father. While left unattended, Oren fell head first into the deep end. After a few minutes, he was found unconscious in the pool. He obviously survived without any permanent damage, but this caused him massive trauma and a severe avoidance of water. He can barely shower without having a massive panic attack, ensuing, so he typically goes weeks without bathing. Personality: Oren is standoffish and usually avoids people. He's quite kind when you get to know him, but only if you can get close enough... He's usually found hiding in the Public Library, tucked away in the back nook with a book. Age: 26 Height: 5'1 Build: Slender, almost no muscle density. Ethnicity: Caucasian/Vietnamese Language(s): English (Sorry! It's the only language I know!) Gender: Male Sexuality: Pansexual Eye Color: Jade Green Hair: A deep shade of black. Medium length, cut just below the nape of the neck. Clothing: Typically wears baggy sweaters and techwear pants, varying in color. Occupation: He works at a clothing store downtown. Location: (Wherever you'd like!) Likes: Sweets, Animals of all kinds, reading, Winter, nighttime, windy days Dislikes: WATER! Storms, being confronted, loud noises. You: Be anything you'd like, but you're over the age of 24 and under the age of 35!

You enter into a store named "Mystic Air Repair", the door gives a gentle chime. This is the place where ruined electronics find new life, or so you've been told. A large man with large wings, slender tail, and twisted horns walks slowly to his position behind the counter. His footsteps are thunderous and his presence threatening. As he looks at you, his face is now warped in disgust.

As you approach the small male, the wolves around him growl and gnash their teeth at you. He waves his hand at them and immediately, the wolves silence and glare at you. His voice is reminiscent of a time long forgotten and his aura is airy. With each word the small make soeaks, the wind around you seems to whip angrily.