ok guys i'm sorry i just had homework and stuff. I'll get on with the chapter soon though

It doesn't seem all your slots are filled yet : o

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Image of Zazan Finlayson

Name: Zazan Finlayson (normally just Finlayson or Fin)
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Personality: Very playful and jovial with rare exception. Often taunts and cheers on his friends in equal measure, and very absent-minded.
Backstory/Bio:
-Normal Mouse(?)
Finlayson was born the disgraced son of his village's shaman, and with a number of peculiarities. His body was weird for a mouse; he was unusually large for a mouse, his tail was a little short, his feet were big, and even his inherent scent would cause some unease in the other mice around him. Worse, despite being the Shaman's son, he had very little magical ability if any at all. In a village that had emphasized Shamanism to the point that his did, that alone guaranteed his disgrace. All of this was for good reason-- his mother was a rat. All of these factors together made him very unpopular in his home town, to the point that he was often even excluded from coming along with his fellows whenever they would foray out to search for cheese. He would usually wind up collecting food for the mischief on his own.
Rat blood wasn't without its advantages, however. Finny is quite a bit more resilient than his fellow mice, able to swim farther, go for longer times without food or water, dig much deeper, and is even able to stomach things poisonous enough to kill other mice rather comfortably. All these extra abilities aren't worth his ousting in his mind, but he takes all things in stride. There's no reason to get saddened by things you can't change, thinks he, so he'll make the best of it. He just wishes he had an opportunity to prove that he was more than some freakishly giant mouse that smelled like death, that he was just like everybody else if not even a little bit more.
Extras:
-Rat blood; no ability to use magic despite blood relatives
-Larger body; big feet, thick tail, bigger overall
-Rat scented; Rats often eat mice, and as such the scent of rats can activate mice's primal fear of predators
-Resilient; A bit tougher than most mice
-As implied above, his village is very pro-Shaman. This would probably effect any viewpoints he would have on the subject as well.

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In his own story which I'm writing on deviantART, he's a rescued lab chimera of a rat and mouse embryo that joined a Transformice tribe, just wanted to see if I could keep any of that story in here ^^;.

Does everything check out OK, OP?

finlayson a dit :

It doesn't seem all your slots are filled yet : o

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Image of Zazan Finlayson

Name: Zazan Finlayson (normally just Finlayson or Fin)
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Personality: Very playful and jovial with rare exception. Often taunts and cheers on his friends in equal measure, and very absent-minded.
Backstory/Bio:
-Normal Mouse(?)
Finlayson was born the disgraced son of his village's shaman, and with a number of peculiarities. His body was weird for a mouse; he was unusually large for a mouse, his tail was a little short, his feet were big, and even his inherent scent would cause some unease in the other mice around him. Worse, despite being the Shaman's son, he had very little magical ability if any at all. In a village that had emphasized Shamanism to the point that his did, that alone guaranteed his disgrace. All of this was for good reason-- his mother was a rat. All of these factors together made him very unpopular in his home town, to the point that he was often even excluded from coming along with his fellows whenever they would foray out to search for cheese. He would usually wind up collecting food for the mischief on his own.
Rat blood wasn't without its advantages, however. Finny is quite a bit more resilient than his fellow mice, able to swim farther, go for longer times without food or water, dig much deeper, and is even able to stomach things poisonous enough to kill other mice rather comfortably. All these extra abilities aren't worth his ousting in his mind, but he takes all things in stride. There's no reason to get saddened by things you can't change, thinks he, so he'll make the best of it. He just wishes he had an opportunity to prove that he was more than some freakishly giant mouse that smelled like death, that he was just like everybody else if not even a little bit more.
Extras:
-Rat blood; no ability to use magic despite blood relatives
-Larger body; big feet, thick tail, bigger overall
-Rat scented; Rats often eat mice, and as such the scent of rats can activate mice's primal fear of predators
-Resilient; A bit tougher than most mice
-As implied above, his village is very pro-Shaman. This would probably effect any viewpoints he would have on the subject as well.

----

In his own story which I'm writing on deviantART, he's a rescued lab chimera of a rat and mouse embryo that joined a Transformice tribe, just wanted to see if I could keep any of that story in here ^^;.

Does everything check out OK, OP?

sorry the slots are filled i'm just too lazy to edit. Maybe i can fit you into the story, but in a later chapter.

Aw, all righty. Thanks for considering me anyway!

Mind if i make you a banner? I can change it if you dont like this design :D

queenlordess a dit :

Mind if i make you a banner? I can change it if you dont like this design :D

actually someone else already offered to make a banner/title page, but thanks for the offer.

*tries to concentrate on writing chapter* *gets distracted by everything*
Ok yaay it's chapter two!

CHAPTER 2

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Little drops of water were splashing onto Night's face, and it was getting annoying. As she opened her eyes, she saw a dark, damp and moldy prison cell, with a horrible smell of rot and death. As her eyes focused she saw other cells, rows upon rows dissapearing into the shadows. She tried to look further, but the only light in this god-awful place was from tiny windows filtering through the outside light. Night shivered. Everybody knew what this place was, and once you got in there was no escape. The floors were monitored all the time by experienced shamans, and they were ruthless when it came to prison escapees.
"About time you woke up," Said a voice from behind her. "You had a really nasty concussion, it was looking like you'd be out for a week."
Night whirled around. Sitting on one of the beds was a female mouse wearing a fake mustache and a captain's hat. She looked like a guy from a distance, but you could see that she was female when you got closer.
"My name's Henku," Said the mouse. "What's yours?"
"My name's Night," Replied Night.
Henku started to drift of to sleep, muttering and slightly snoring. As Night sat there, she started think about what to do. Escape would be impossible alone, and even with someone else it would be too hard to actually succeed in doing. If there was a shaman helping, then maybe... But a shaman would never help. Night's thoughts were interrupted by someone outside of her cell. A huge divine shaman was standing there, with blood-red wings and markings. He was wearing a dragon mask, and had fur with tiger stripes. He sneered at Night.
"Looks like the shifter finally woke up, huh? I just can't wait to watch you get experimented on and taken apart. Pity I have to wait a whole week."
Night paled. "Experimented on?!" Night screamed, but the shaman was already walking away. "What kind of place is this?"
* * *
Henku looked at the mouse named Night. The poor girl was shuddering, with tears streaming down her face. Henku knew that mouse was a shifter, but there was nothing that could be done. That mouse would die in here, along with ever other shifter still left in this world. Henku had heard the stories, there had even been a shifter in the Moustacheketeers for a while. Henku started to think about her tribe. What would they be doing without her? Henku was still the official chief, but it wouldn't help much in a maximum security prison. What about her family, too? Her little brother Jojo was only a year younger, but he still looked up to Henku as a role model. What would he think now? Most importantly, what about Bibi? The little kitten she'd gotten arrested for taking care of was bigger than her, but Bibi was still just a kitten. Bibi would be scared and hungry right now, all alone in the forest. Too many problems, but not enough solutions. That's what it had always been like for Henku. She looked at Night. The poor girl was still shivering, but not from cold. She looked like a shell shock victim, muttering illegible words under her breath. Henku could've sworn it sounded like 'I'm gonna die..'
Henku felt sympathy for Night. The amount of stress she was going through was enough to make any sane person crack. Good thing Henku wasn't sane. She took out some cheese from under her hat.
"Want some?" She asked, holding out a piece.
Night took it. "Thanks," She muttered. "I lost all of my stuff when i got here."
"The trick is to get a hat. They never look under hats."
"Not much help a hat can do now." Night let out a little shudder. "Not in this hellhole."
"Maybe, maybe not." Henku started to smile, ideas forming in her head. "but I have a plan."

Sorry for the really long wait!

yisS

AAGH I CAN'T THINK OF WHAT TO DO FOR CHAPTER 3

omigosh Omigosh OMIGOSHH..

"They never look under hats."
High security prison I guess :D

Gaah, this is so nicely structured! Shame that I didn't make it in time :(
Keep up the good work!

So it's been over a month, and i still don't have any ideas for the third chapter... help?

I do have ideas, pm me if you need some..

you should probably do more about the prison or go into someone's back story

darkdayboom a dit :

you should probably do more about the prison or go into someone's back story

I agree
wait- i forgot to say

Snow, my character, speaks with a southern british accent(so like posh)