[hr]
[hider=Zelia "Zee" Darling][color=#2e2c2c].
.[/color]
[indent][indent][table][row][sup][h1][color=181818][b]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/b][right][b]▅▅▅▅▅[/b][/right][/color][right][color=EBCEED]Zelia Darling[/color][color=181818]...[/color][/right][/h1][/sup][/row][row]
[cell][color=2e2c2c]....................................................[/color][img]https://i.ibb.co/XBRDHN3/907898a3d5d6652f650785120bc05ced.jpg[/img] 

[img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/294dcf78780b3e6be5039efb3ac441ab/7e665bb74814391c-31/s540x810/7b46f2dfd85a499d5b01ed488b53b8c957b683f8.gif[/img]
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[sub][color=EBCEED][b]D A U G H T E R[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=EBCEED][b]O F[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=EBCEED][b]Z E U S[/b][/color]
[color=807B84][sup]________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[color=EBCEED]20     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     female     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     pansexual[/color]
[color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color]
[color=EBCEED][b]▹ hair color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  brunette[/color]
[color=EBCEED][b]▹ eye color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]   brown[/color]
[color=EBCEED][b]▹ height  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  5' 6"[/color]
[color=EBCEED][b]▹ build  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  slender / athletic[/color]
[/sub][/center]
[/cell][cell][justify][sup][color=2e2c2c].[/color]
[color=EBCEED][b]A B I L I T I E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]atmokinesis[/b][/color] - [i]While this ability allows a wide range of control and influence in regards to meteorological conditions, such as winds, rain, storms, and temperature, to create various weather effects, Zelia has only ever been inadvertently proficient in regards to controlling the wind. She's always felt more naturally attuned to manipulating wind currents, something that borders on instinct, in order to give her an augmented boost of speed. It was unintentional when she was younger, but it's an ability that Zee could focus on honing further if she desired. Calling forward a soft breeze on a hot summers day, or something more cutting when her temper flares, feels as natural as breathing for her. As for things such as controlling storms or changing temperature, she's found those abilities tightly tied to her more negative emotions, so she largely suppresses them in the illusion of control, without any form of guidance or training she's more likely to be a liability whilst controlling the weather.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]electrokinesis[/b][/color] - [i][color=d6d6d6]"You have lightning in your veins,"[/color] her mother had murmured those words the first time Zelia charred the table in a fit, voice soft and soothing. [color=d6d6d6]"Don't be scared."[/color] Before that point, she'd always been terrified of lightning. There was something jarring about how, nearly every night, sheet lightning inlaid the walls with cool gold. She'd always felt frozen at the sight of it, unbothered by the rumble that followed but choked at the flash that seared across her eyelids. Zelia didn't understand until she was much older that her mom had been correct, there was a reservoir filled with lightning in her chest, and controlling it was something that felt primal and innate. Only once before has she used electrical impulses to stimulate the nerves and muscles in her legs, granting her a higher level of speed than would be common, but she's truly never experimented with the power, accidents across her childhood leading to a subtle fear of her own power if it was left raw and unhindered, but there have been occasions when she was alone that Zee let the current of electricity dance between her fingers unchecked, searing zigzag patterns into the delicate skin of her hands that left the strangest scars.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]flight[/b][/color] - [i]Zelia hasn't tried to fly before, the concept of throwing herself off of a roof to achieve such a feat is a little odd, even for her, though knowing what she knows now...she's very enthusiastic to learn, if only to feel closer to her father.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]peak human condition[/b][/color] - [i]She has always been physically incredible, it was an undeniable fact that was easy for Zelia herself to overlook as she grew, but not as easy for everyone around her. She could run longer and faster than everyone else, even without her powers, she had enough stamina for three children, and could lift things easily that her mother struggled with. At large, it was one of those things that was filed away with all her other oddities, college recruiters latching onto her speed and stamina and offering scholarships for their track teams. Zee likes to think that everything good comes with some bad, she eats more than a grown man does which often leaves her starving because of her metabolism, and needs an adequate amount of rest that she rarely gets. [/i]

[color=EBCEED][b]S T R E N G T H S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Eidetic memory[/b][/color] - [i]The ability to recall an image, sound, or object with extreme accuracy after only a brief exposure; Zelia has exhibited signs of eidetic memory ever since she was a child, most often using it to recall poetry, or quotes, but it has also helped her when she took Karate and Gymnastics. [/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Speed[/b][/color] - [i]Even without augmenting her speed with atmokinesis and electrokinesis, being in peak human conditions leads her to being faster than most people. Added with the years of track meets and gymnastic classes, Zelia is fast and flexible, if she has to fight the ace up her sleeve will undoubtably be her speed.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Intellect[/b][/color] - [i]When she was younger Zee was bullied by her year mates for her odder tendencies, there was a teacher though that quoted Stephen Hawking to her when she'd been found crying. “The thing about smart people is that they seem like crazy people to dumb people.” That always stuck with her, yes, she is peculiar sometimes, but her intellect is frighteningly brilliant, and when something catches her fancy she dedicates herself with a passion to learning it in depth.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Fast Learner[/b][/color] - [i]When it comes to learning new things Zelia excels. It may be a byproduct of her eidetic memory, but she truly could be labeled a jack of all trades.[/i]

[color=EBCEED][b]W E A K N E S S E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Aquaphobia[/b][/color] - [i]Nightmares from her childhood have stretched into her adult life, and more often than not Zelia dreams of drowning. She has no desire to ever venture into large bodies of water, and will avoid it if possible. She does not know how to swim, and is too scared to ever try.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Spacey[/b][/color] - [i]Her mind can be an enigma, she prefers nature and literature to most people, though most of that has to do with the fact that she's never felt as if she fit in anywhere. Zelia has an active imagination, and could spend hours daydreaming instead of actually focusing on the present. That can make actually living rather difficult, at times.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Avoidance Behaviors[/b][/color] - [i]It is easy to fall into darker emotions like sadness, anger, self-hatred. While she has her own fair share of these things, more often than not Zee will simply...ignore it. She'll focus on being happy, or optimistic, and leaning into the freak act. It will, undoubtably, make her fall out worse, but she's convinced herself that if she can fool everyone else, she can fool herself as well.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Metabolism[/b][/color] - [i]Always hungry, it's never enough. If she doesn't eat enough, she'll get very lethargic.[/i]

[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[color=EBCEED][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/color]
[b]optimistic[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] eccentric [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] compassionate [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] passionate[/b]

[color=EBCEED][b]H I S T O R Y[/b][/color]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]scintilla[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9](n.) a tiny, brilliant flash or spark; a small thing; barely-visible trace[/color][/i][/center]
Lightning arced toward dry earth, white streaking across the sky as if bony fingers reached into the purpling cloud in search of it's soul. Thunder shuddered through the early morning, the vibrations rolling through cracked soil, and Zelia was born unto the world in the same instant, silent as death but flushed with life. Amelia Darling had screamed enough for the both of them, and though the hospital lights had flickered and the windows shuddered from the force of the storm, she was at peace when they passed her daughter into her arms for the first time. The nurse had cooed at her, called her [i]well behaved,[/i] but even then Amelia knew her daughter would grow into an enigma suiting her heritage.  

Outside the hospital, lightning struck the same patch of grass three times, burrowing into the earth relentlessly until smoke billowed from the crack that splintered and fractured the ground. It would be featured in the small towns local paper as an [i]Act of God,[/i] the zealots in town believing wild things, like an impending rapture, but Amelia saw the truth in the sanctified and charred land, and she took it as the traces of a blessing. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]brontide[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9](n.) a low rumble of distant thunder[/color][/i][/center]
Most nights, Zelia dreams of the ocean. She hasn’t seen it, they live landlocked in Utah, but she can imagine it as if she has been there a thousand times before. She dreams of the crashing waves dragging her down after a current swept her away from land. She dreams of water filling her lungs and the all-consuming darkness of the depths swallowing her whole. Zee dreams of drowning, and she feels as if she deserves such a harrowing fate at the tender age of five, but she does not understand why. 

Often, she dreams of a storm too. The sky is black as night, stretching on the horizon until she can’t see where it begins and the ocean ends. Lightning flashes illuminate a massive, swirling storm in the distance for the briefest of moments. Waves crash with a vengeance upon the shoreline, and Zelia can feel the wind ripping at her hair and clothes. The storm whispers to her in these dreams, an ancient song of something unfamiliar reverberating in her bones. She feels the undeniable pull, insatiable hunger for something she can barely fathom stirring in her belly. Someone, somewhere beyond the storm, bellows her name, and Zee wakes up sweaty and gasping. 

She does not tell her mama about her dreams, though it would be instinct to express her fears. The distant rumble of thunder always echoes in her ears when she wakes disorientated and discontent, flashes of lightning spiderwebbing an illumination across her bedroom walls. Zelia does not like sleeping, she learns to avoid naps, stays up later than any young child should, clutching a flashlight and a book until her exhaustion wins. She is young, but her soul feels old, and she learns how to live with very little sleep quite quickly for someone her age.   

[center][i][color=BABAA9]la douleur exquise[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9](n.) the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable[/color][/i][/center]
Zelia learns that it is strange how absence can feel like presence. She wonders of things like absence because she knows she is missing something every child her age ought to have. She learned the words, la douleur exquise, and what they meant just as their definition upon a page in a book, but in her chest. Amelia tries to keep her busy to distract her young daughter from missing the father she never had, she signs her up for a gymnastics class, and then a ballet class, and then because nothing seems to be quite enough to sustain the hyperactivity that seemed to always consume Zelia, she put her in a swim class. This was disastrous, Zee was [i]terrified[/i] of the water and refused to get into the pool, pitching such a fit when the instructors kept insisting that the entire YMCA needed to be rewired after a bolt of lightning struck the building. 

It had been called a freak accident, the sky had been a little cloudy, no one had been injured, but Amelia had looked at her daughter with different eyes that day onward. She took into account what Zelia [i]actually[/i] wanted, rather than what she thought would be good to keep her busy, and she was withdrawn from the swimming class swiftly. The bulk of her childhood was spent bouncing between youth clubs, gymnastics, chess, ballet, karate. Zelia would like to say she was a jack of all trades, master of none, but better than a master of one...but the day of her tenth birthday changed everything.

[center][i][color=BABAA9]nepenthe[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9](n.) something that can make you forget grief or suffering[/color][/i][/center]
Time stood still in a swelling moment where Zelia sat beneath the awning of the funeral home, a book her grandmother had gifted her that morning clutched to her chest. It seemed a sad way to spend ones birthday, and so none of her family stopped her from slipping away whilst they spoke about her mom and how much they all loved her. A quiet, cool part of Zee resented them all, it wasn't [i]fair[/i] because none had loved her as much as she had, but love hadn't been enough to keep her mom alive. 

Although it was only five o'clock, the day was encircled by a biting darkness. The fog, caused by the rain that fluctuates between drizzle and torrential, blurred every detail with its ragged veils, punctured at various distances by the glow of street lamps and shafts of light escaping from illuminated windows. The road was soaked with rain and glittered under the street-lights. A bitter wind, heavy with icy bits, whipped at her face, its howling forming the high notes of a symphony, and Zelia stared at the damp pages of her book, unseeing and as frozen as ice upon pavement. She missed when a man approached, because she was too wrapped up in the freshness of her loss. Her mom was gone, and all that was left was the space where she'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence, but the tree had been ripped away in a tornado and by some cruel miracle, the fence remained. 

[color=DFE09F]"Should you be out in this weather?"[/color] A man's voice broke through her rumination, a question posed in lieu of greeting, and she titled her head back to look up at the stranger. Zelia had never seen him and his pressed, dark suit before, but there was something familiar in the curve of his eyes, the bow of his lips, the slope of his jawline. Her head tilted to the side in a gesture that was birdlike, dark eyes assessing. [color=EBCEED]"No one told me I ought not to,"[/color] she said after a moment in which the silence stretched and twisted into a mosaic of cold and quiet. Zelia watched the mans lips twitch, and in his gaze was the same bright inquisitiveness she'd seen reflected in her own eyes. [color=DFE09F]"What are you reading?[/color] The question was polite, but there was an edge to it that left her wondering what would happen if it went unanswered. 

[color=EBCEED]"Poetry, but I wasn't reading, I was listening to the rain talk."[/color] Zee answered faster now, more at ease because he hadn't apologized for her loss or looked at her as if she were a pitiful creature sniveling upon the concrete. [color=DFE09F]"Oh?"[/color] Amusement colored the mans voice, but his face was impassive in a way that Zelia did not understand. [color=DFE09F]"What does the rain say?"[/color] There wasn't any judgment in the question, just an open curiosity. Other people were often mean about the odd things she gave voice too, so this was...nice. [color=EBCEED]"I'm not sure, I haven't learned the language yet...I was waiting for the thunder."[/color] The man's smiled widened by the smallest fraction, nothing more than a twitch of the lips, but he leaned against the wall and gazed up toward the sky. 

[color=DFE09F]"Do you like the thunder?"[/color] He asked an awful lot of questions, but Zelia turned toward the darkened sky as well. The clouds swelled beneath the weight of unfallen rain, and a flash of light illuminated them blindingly for a moment, followed by a distant and loud rumble. Her own smile formed, lighting up her features like fireflies twinkling in the night. [color=EBCEED]"Yes, it used to scare me, but..."[/color] her voice trailed off, turned soft and sad, but he did not pester her to continue. It took a moment for Zee to find her words once more, and he simply stood there, waiting with a patience that, oddly enough, felt unbecoming for this stranger. [color=EBCEED]"My mama told me I ought not be scared of thunder or lightning, she said I'd know I was safe, if it was there."[/color] Her eyes glittered with moisture just as the road that stretched out beyond the funeral home did, but no tears rolled down her cheeks.  

[color=DFE09F]"Curious,"[/color] he mused, and another flash of lightning split open the sky, much to Zelia's delight. She hummed to herself, something that held no sort of tangible tune but seemed familiar in the way that she'd hummed it many times before. [color=EBCEED]"I am afraid that our eyes are bigger than our stomachs, and that we have more curiosity than understanding. We grasp at everything, but catch nothing except wind."[/color] She quoted diligently, tipping her head back to catch the amused and quietly baffled gaze of the stranger. [color=EBCEED]"Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays. I read the book last year."[/color] This seemed to catch the mans attention, and his eyebrows rose ever so slightly, his own curiosity lighting up his gaze. 

[color=DFE09F]"You have good memory,"[/color] this was not a question, but Zelia found herself nodding in response all the same. She had very good memory, it was something her mom had been proud of. He tipped his head toward the book, circling back to one of his initial questions. [color=DFE09F]"What is your book about?"[/color] Zelia glanced down at the book, lips pressing together tightly for a long moment. A gift, she loved books, it ought to be an adequate gift, but... [color=EBCEED]"Poems, it focuses on poems for funerals. It was a gift."[/color] The way she stressed the word [i]gift[/i] with a blanket of soft disdain did not go unnoticed by the man, and one of his hands slipped into a pocket. [color=DFE09F]"Do you like any of the poems in the book?"[/color] Every question he asked was nothing more than a polite inquiry, detached curiosity coloring his tone. She felt as if she were simply humoring him, but oddly enough the conversation was exactly what she'd needed. 

Her response with instant and unthinking, only one of the poems within the book could have been considered likeable to her, though there was a differing of opinions to take into account. [color=EBCEED][i]"Death Is Nothing At All by Henry Scott-Holland."[/i][/color] For some reason, this made the mans smile stretch impossibly. It was there and then gone with all the abruptness of a flash of lightning, but it had been there. He pushed off the wall, stepping closer to the edge of the awning. [color=DFE09F]"Quite a good poem, I believe,"[/color] he chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest like thunder on the horizon. [color=DFE09F]"You ought to read aloud more often, I've heard the lightning enjoys it."[/color] It was such a silly suggestion, something only a child could hear and latch onto as being true, but Zelia [i]was[/i] a child and she enjoyed things that other people found odd more often than not. The man turned to go, and she assumed that meant the funeral was drawing to a close. Tomorrow, she would help her grandmother pack her room into cardboard boxes so that she could move an hour away into their home with them, but today Zelia was rooted in the moment, in her loss, and in the strange appearance of a man with whom she shared a resemblance. 

[color=EBCEED]"Wait!"[/color] She scrambled up off the damp pavement, book tumbling clumsily from her lap, and she stepped out from beneath the awning to follow the man, one of her hands slipping into the small pocket of her frilly black dress, withdrawing what seemed to be a lollipop. She thrust it out toward the man, head tipped back as the rain splashed across her skin, eyes wide and earnest. [color=EBCEED]"Here, take it."[/color] He reached out automatically, collecting the small sweet treat with confusion painted across his face. Zelia smiled, bright and open like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. [color=EBCEED]"My Nana makes them, it's honey, but they're shaped like lollipops, because I really like honey."[/color] She chirped the words with a newfound enthusiasm, answering his unspoken question. [color=EBCEED]"Thank you, for talking to me. You're really nice, mister."[/color] 

He looked down at the gift, face unreadable, before looking back at Zee. There is a moment of silence in which rain slips from her forehead down to her chin, another chilly breeze tousling her curls, and she is confused by his sudden intensity. [color=DFE09F]"The accident was not your fault, Zelia."[/color] His voice was low, but it sounded different from before, crackling and rumbling like a storm. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end as static filled the air around her, and above them lightning flashes a crack in the sky as if God himself has ripped it open. Between one blink and the next, the man is gone. 

Years later, she'll have convinced herself that she imagined the entire interaction. It hadn't made any sense, people didn't just vanish into thin air, and no stranger would have known about how the guilt she carried for her moms death was now entwined with the lightning in her chest...but it never stopped her from reading her poetry aloud, especially on stormy days. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]peripeteia[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9](n.) a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances; the point of no return[/color][/i][/center]
The rest of Zelia's childhood passes with the speed of molasses falling in winter air, dauntingly slow without the whirlwind of her mom by her side. Her grandparents had to cut down on the clubs she was a part of, but she managed to hold onto gymnastics, chess, and once she entered high school she flourished on the track team. She felt as if she were missing something, labeled as strange she didn't have many friends, but it was more than that. It was like Zelia had been born into the wrong world, she felt out of step with everyone and everything else, no matter how hard she tried to fit in. A keen sense of guilt floats in the air around Zelia each time she thinks of her mom, of the accident that [i]was[/i] her fault, but she presses on and forces herself to be happy in spite of it all. Lightning still sparks between her fingers when she's upset, and the wind seems to curl with enthusiasm within her curls, but for the sake of her grandparents she pretends all is well. 

It started off as a normal day, as normal days often do, which saw Zelia going through the motions. She went on her morning run, ate breakfast, attended classes, and returned to her dorm after collecting her free lunch from the mess hall. The sun was dipping low and red over the horizon, casting a fiery hue over the forests and streets as it shined through her window, and Zee absently cast a look at the blood sun as she kicked the door shut, humming under her breath whilst she moved to her desk with her food. Upon the cheap laminate wood though, was a letter. 

The envelope was elegant, parchment aged, a golden and glittering wax seal keeping it securely shut. There were clouds in the wax, a hand locked around three bolts of lightning in the center. He hesitated for a moment, setting aside her tray to pick up the letter. There was a weight to it, nothing too heavy but it gave the illusion to something else than just paper residing within it. She wiggled her pinky finger beneath the wax, carefully prying it away from the parchment to try and keep the integrity of the wax. Once it was open, a letter and a...necklace spilled out. Curiosity was a beast in Zelia's belly, and so her hand closed around the letter first, lifting it from the desk and unfolding it. For a moment, the letters on the table didn't make much of any sense, she stared and stared, but between each blink they seemed to scramble themselves, until she could understand what she was looking at. [i]Greek?[/i] She'd had a course on it in high school, enjoyed it quite a bit, but never explored it further.

[center][b][i]When Gods Dispute the Soul of Man[/i][/b][/center]
Her brows furrowed, because a poem of all things was not what Zelia had expected. She read through it quickly the first time, and then slower twice over, dissecting it slowly and turning it over in her head like one would a fine wine on the tongue. It took an embarrassing amount of time for her to realize there was more to the letter, written at the bottom, almost as if in a rush. 

[center][b][i]Daughter, you have been claimed. Camp Athen's awaits. A gift, for a gift. Use it well.[/i][/b][/center]
[center][b][i]— 𝓩[/i][/b][/center]
Beneath it were instructions for finding the camp, quite detailed, and a time frame for her to arrive. Now, came the doubt. There was no one left on this earth who would refer to Zelia as [i]daughter[/i] unless it was the father her mom never mentioned, but that felt like a stretch. Even more so, a nonsensical poem about Zeus and Hades disputing the soul of man should have been so far out of the left field that she'd throw everything away and continue about her day. Only...that wasn't who Zee was. The oddity of it all intrigued her greatly, and it seemed as if they person who sent the letter knew exactly what it would take to snag her attention. 

Her eyes turned toward the necklace at last, several leather cords weaved together in an interknit pattern. On a clip was a pendent that matched the wax seal, it looked as if the metal itself had been melted down to form the same seal, the sheen copperish in color. [i]A gift for a gift?[/i] Her mind scrambled about for a moment, trying to place when she'd given any gifts that would warrant something like this, but couldn't quite place it. Zelia slipped the necklace on over her curls as if in a trance, humming a tuneless melody, and her fingers brushed over the cool metal of the pedant. It hung on the cord of leather with an odd sort of latch, curiosity spiking, she gave it a small and soft tug. 

The pendent detached, metal falling into her palm, and then it was expanding to fit the grooves of her hand, edges on each side elongating and sharpening jaggedly until what she held in her hand was...a dagger, with two points, shaped like one of the lightning bolts that had been embedded into the seal. Her eyes bugged, and her jerked her hand in instinctive surprise, one of the sharp edges tapping the metal of the latch with a [i]tink[/i] and before she could blink the dagger was gone, pendent clasped back onto the cord. Her mind may have already been made up with the poem, but this solidified her choice.
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]

[center][color=EBCEED][b]hexcode[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]#EBCEED[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=EBCEED][b]faceclaim[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Zendaya Coleman[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=EBCEED][b]creator[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Sleepy Tani[/color][/center][/sup][/justify][/cell]
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[hider=Zelia's Cabin][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/KjcR1xZ7/3-F24-D5-C8-7819-4-E3-D-8506-B6-AFABAA825-C.png[/img][/center][/hider]

[hr]
[hider=Colton "Colt" Shepherd][color=#2e2c2c].
.[/color]
[indent][indent][table][row][sup][h1][color=181818][b]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/b][right][b]▅▅▅▅▅[/b][/right][/color][right][color=A64017]Colton Shepherd[/color][color=181818]...[/color][/right][/h1][/sup][/row][row]
[cell][color=2e2c2c]....................................................[/color][img]https://i.ibb.co/S4CwCD6S/tumblr-536bc7dd6cd54e7b8436e2529472fa7a-91d6c764-540.png[/img]

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5a/2c/07/5a2c07a5acfa71685f7a096578a6d760.gif[/img]
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[sub][color=A64017][b]S O N[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=A64017][b]O F[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=A64017][b] H E P H A E S T U S[/b][/color]
[color=807B84][sup]________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[color=A64017]22     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     male     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     heterosexual[/color]
[color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color]
[color=A64017][b]▹ hair color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  blond[/color]
[color=A64017][b]▹ eye color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]   green[/color]
[color=A64017][b]▹ height  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  6' 1"[/color]
[color=A64017][b]▹ build  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  buff / athletic[/color]
[/sub][/center]
[/cell][cell][justify][sup][color=2e2c2c].[/color]
[color=A64017][b]A B I L I T I E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Pyrokinesis[/b][/color] - [i]The ability to mentally generate, control, and manipulate fire. Colton has never experimented with his supposed powers, though he has...melted things in the past, burnt his handprints into bed frames, but he's always ignored when sparks jump from the tips of his fingers. Fire feels...natural to Colt, he can remember staring into bonfires in the past, watching the flames jump and leap into the sky, higher and higher the longer he watched. It wasn't good, to be different, so he stopped staring at fires, learned to temper his anger and remain as cool as possible.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Calokinesis[/b][/color] - [i]Colton has always run warmer than most people, he's like a walking, living, breathing furnace. It comes naturally to him, and it has made summers out in the country when he was working on the farm brutal. He's melted his fair share of tools in an aggravated, hazy accident, but as he's aged he's learned to keep a tight lid on his emotions to try and control it. The result is warmth spread across his entire body, natural to Colton, but surprising for others. [/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Master Inventor & Engineer[/b][/color] - [i]Inventing and building runs in his blood, Colton has always been brilliant when it came to repairing or building things, scraping things the rest of his family deemed unusable to create something new. If you have something broken and you're thinking of throwing it out, he's the person to go to. There's a small sense of pride in every creation, knowing that he could be useful to others makes him happy.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]High Intelligence[/b][/color] - [i]His therapist once suggested when he was younger that the reason Colton was so scared of everything, was because he was so smart. It was posed as a logical affliction, anyone who could look at a scenario and know all the ways it could go wrong would be smart enough to be terrified of the bad outcomes. His mind has always worked too fast, sometimes faster than Colt can even register the whirlwind of what-if's and maybes. He tries to look at everything from every angle, pick apart a perspective until he understands, and above all else, considers the worst case scenarios.[/i]

[color=A64017][b]S T R E N G T H S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Physical Strength[/b][/color] - [i]Growing up on a farm, Colton's been lifting thing's twice his body weight for as long as he could remember. His physical strength often feels like the one thing he truly has going for him other than his mind, especially since his stamina is abysmal.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Adaptability[/b][/color] - [i]Colton can think fast on his feet, he likes to compare sticky situations to puzzles, if he can just line up the pieces correctly he can solve the issue. It doesn't matter what sort of puzzle he's dropped into, if there's a solution he can find it.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Innovative[/b][/color] - [i]Retired tractor parts, scrap metal, old battires, whatever he can get his hands on, Colt can transform to fit his needs. [/i]

[color=A64017][b]W E A K N E S S E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Fear[/b][/color] - [i]For as long as he can remember, fear has ruled his every waking moment. It still is there, lingering in the back of his mind like smoke caught in his lungs, rattling every breath he takes and filling his mouth with the rancid taste of bile. Recent event have made it possible for Colton to overlook most of his fears, but he knows it can't last forever.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Self-Doubt[/b][/color] - [i]Every choice he makes is laced with doubt, and those doubts are often enough to keep him up at night.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Kindness[/b][/color] - [i]Colton was raised to be kind, no matter what. His Pa has remarked that too much kindness could be his downfall.[/i]

[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[color=A64017][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/color]
[b]respectful[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] dependable [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] innovative [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] integrous[/b]

[color=A64017][b]H I S T O R Y[/b][/color]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7]nyctophobia;[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7]an extreme and irrational fear of darkness or night.[/color][/i][/center]
Colton was born the same day a volcano erupted on Anatahan, in the Northern Mariana Islands. He cannot dwell on what he scarce remembers, so the fact that his mother passed in childbirth has been something that has only ever sat at the back of his mind, a constant and compelling reminder that his life had started with death. He had been adopted quickly, before any of the oddities that would mark Colton as being [i]different[/i] started to fully manifest. 

He grew up on a farm, with two brothers and three sisters, a loving mom, kind dad, and Colton was...terrified. Of everything. It started off small, the inability to sleep without a nightlight filling the dark crevices of his room, the darkness outside jarring him into fits of fear that seared hand prints into the alabaster wood of his crib. His parents called a priest, but there was no demonic entities to explain the oddity of their adopted son. Colt was odd, but he was brilliantly smart, and so the strangeness was eventually pushed away. They loved their son as if they had given birth to him, they'd [i]chosen[/i] him, and so what if he ran a little warmer than their other children? Colton was theirs, and they were content. 

He, was not. His fears didn't start and end with his childhood. His fear of darkness kept him up as night, twisted his dreams into nightmares where a boogie man chased him through the slick and black streets of their town, menacing laughs echoing off the old brick roads. To Colt, fear wasn't about what made sense. Fear was about possibilities. Not things that happened, things that might, that could, even if it seemed impossible. His fears started with the darkness, but they grew until he was scared of the bath, scared of bugs, scared of heights, scared of [i]living.[/i] 

[center][i][color=D6B6A7]phobophobia;[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7]an intense and irrational fear of experiencing fear or panic itself.[/color][/i][/center]
His parents argued when he was ten, going around and around for days. His mom wanted to take him to see a professional, his dad believed their faith would be enough to see Colton through his trials and tribulations. The rest of the family watched on, quiet and confused, until finally his mom took him and left. They were gone for three weeks, in which he saw a therapist for the first time and was able to begin giving voice to all the fears that coiled around his throat like wire, and then his dad came begging for forgiveness. They returned home, and once a week, every week, they'd take Colton together to therapy. 

His fears became more manageable as he got older, each living nightmare was still there, sticking to his skin with all the persistence of oil, but over time Colt found other things to help steady the tremble of his fingers, one of which being, as his mom called it, [i]tinkering.[/i] His brother's had laughed until he fixed the families tractor using bubble gum, and parts of a dissembled lamp. From there, Colton flourished. He was still scared more often than not, but it was like something clicked for him, and he shifted the gears of his brain from fear to focus. He'd stay up late into the night, his room overflowing with light, building little robots, drones, and a small handheld, digital music player shaped like a cube. 

Despite his father's wishes, and the the beliefs of the rest of his siblings, Colton never quite found himself following their chosen religion. He attended church on Sunday's, feeling each time as if he were having an out of body experience. He didn't understand the concept of a God who would allow so many evil and cruel things to transpire, but for him mom's sake he pretended, reading the sermons and praying at night before bed. Colton grew up in the country, where faith was unanimously revered, and he allowed the customs to be imparted onto him. He grew up to be kind, respectful of women, a perfect gentlemen, honest to a fault. He didn't play any sports, the fears outweighing the rewards, but Colt was smart enough that he didn't need a sports scholarship to attend college, his teachers had noticed his brilliance, and that had been enough for him.

[center][i][color=D6B6A7]pyrophobia;[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7]an intense and irrational fear of fire.[/color][/i][/center]
Colton doesn't remember much about the day it all fell apart, he'd come back to visit from college for the first time in close to three years, and he'd been so excited to see his family again...but there was fire licking up into the sky, fluctuating the air with it's heat. He'd stood there for a long moment, [i]terrified[/i] of the flames, of the fact that none of his family were outside, their truck was parked in it's usual spot. They were all in the house. He remembered the moment of clarity, of refusing to abandon his brothers and sisters, beneath a blue sky in the middle of the afternoon, his tragedy unfolded, and the only thought he could think in that moment was... [i]not my family.[/i]

There is a moment when a person will walk into fire, knowing full well they'll get burned, but it doesn't hurt. When you're prepared for pain, pain loses power. Only...the fire didn't even burn him. His parents bedroom was on the first floor, he got them out first, ignoring his mom when she begged him not to go back in, because how could he leave his siblings in there? The fire didn't burn, but the smoke choked him, every breath making his lungs feel raw like an open wound. It billowed down the halls as it swallowed the cries of his sisters, flames curling around their door hungrily. They'd screamed when he burst in, smoldering and choking, but Colt got them out. 

The sirens of fire trucks screamed in the distance, he couldn't see their lights from outside with the sun beating down on him, but his job wasn't done. For the first time in his life, there wasn't an ounce of fear in his heart when he charged back into the burning house. All Colton cared about was getting his brothers out, was making sure his family was safe. He didn't [i]care[/i] what happened to him, not anymore. The fire licked at his ankles, melted his boots, seared the fabric of his shirt into his skin, but it did not burn him as he took the stairs two at a time. In the end, all of his resolve meant [i]nothing.[/i] The fire got to his brothers before he could, and the Shepard family shrunk by two. 

[center][i][color=D6B6A7]There isn't a single recognized medical term or widely accepted name for the fear of being unafraid.[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7](def.) fear of the inverse of courage; a psychological state where a person is afraid of what it[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=D6B6A7]might mean to be courageous or free from fear.[/color][/i][/center]
Tragedy feels a lot like a house fire. There are days were it is stifling with it's heat, where you feel as if you are suffocating with every lung full. Though, if you really wanted to, you could learn how to hold your breath as you made your way through the smoke left in its wake and you could keep going. And sometimes, sometimes, you could grow something beautiful from the ashes that were left behind. If you were lucky. Colten wasn't sure if he was lucky, it didn't feel like luck when they put two small coffins in the ground, it felt cold and cruel. 

He does not return to college. He helps his dad rebuild their home, he helps on the farm, he loses himself to the grief of loss and pretends that the shaky grasp he had on his faith his entire life hadn't slipped from his fingers at some point between the fire, and the funeral. Colton lives one day at a time, and while everyday gets a little easier, sometimes he still wakes up gasping, choking on smoke that isn't there, and seeing what fire can do. His father finds him in the shed, surrounded by blueprints of things he will never get the chance to build, his dreams for the future crumpled up in the wastebasket in the corner. He hadn't felt afraid since the fire, but old habits died hard, and light filled every crevice of the old, small barn. 

[color=E3A56F]"You'll waste all your potential here."[/color] The rich timber of an unfamiliar man's voice cut through the silence of the night, making Colt whip around with wide eyes and tensed arms. They lived, to put it eloquently, in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. The idea that a stranger would stroll up to their property was preposterous...and yet here was a man that Colton had never seen before. 

[color=A64017]"Who the hell are you?"[/color] 

The man's lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile, as if he'd said something that was part of some inside joke. [color=E3A56F]"You're a lot like your sister."[/color] The man didn't answer his question, simply gave an idle comment that made Colt draw short, brows furrowing in confusion. [color=A64017]"How do you know my sister?"[/color] There was a tinge of protectiveness in his voice, his entire body growing tense and too warm. The man waved him off casually though, still smiling faintly. [color=E3A56F]"Your [i]actual[/i] sister."[/color] 

Time seemed to freeze like the top of a lake in winter, curling impossibly in on itself as Colt stared at this unfamiliar man...and then it all clicked, all at once. He knew he was adopted, everyone in his family had dark hair, brown eyes, and a paler parlor. Colt was the only one with blond hair, green eyes, and naturally olive toned skin. He was taller than his father, and shared no visual similarities with his mother. He knew he was different, knew he never quite fit the mold of the Shepherd family, but he hadn't ever thought he'd see himself in the face of another man. 

[color=E3A56F]"Surely you didn't think someone like [i]you[/i] could be produced by a mere farmer?"[/color] There was an indistinguishable edge of pride in the man's tone that Colton has never heard in his adopted father voice. He opened his mouth, but no words came to him, and so the man closed the distance, sliding a letter onto his workbench with a wry smile, scarred knuckles glinting in the florescent light's overhead. He looked up after reading [i]Camp Athens,[/i] but the man was gone with the same mysterious silence he'd appeared in. 

The letter was detailed, and he'd made up his mind before he'd even finished reading it. Colton couldn't go back to college, but he couldn't stay home and sit in his grief either. He left his own note for his family, and left before the night was through. He wasn't scared anymore.
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]

[center][color=A64017][b]hexcode[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]#A64017[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=A64017][b]faceclaim[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Austin Butler[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=A64017][b]creator[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Sleepy Tani[/color][/center][/sup][/justify][/cell]
[/row]
[/table][/indent][/indent][/hider]

[hider=Colton's Cabin][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/WNpJT23q/17-EE1-C33-3-C41-4-B77-AE56-237335-E4-C81-F.png[/img][/center][/hider]

[hr]
[hider=Katryna "Kat" Lis][color=#2e2c2c].
.[/color]
[indent][indent][table][row][sup][h1][color=181818][b]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/b][right][b]▅▅▅▅▅[/b][/right][/color][right][color=A4DED2]Katryna Lis[/color][color=181818]...[/color][/right][/h1][/sup][/row][row]
[cell][color=2e2c2c]....................................................[/color][img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8e/53/cc/8e53ccca3901292ad27c5c64d6294614.jpg[/img] 

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2a/08/28/2a082887b778f5de60c6d2e21e4af15e.gif[/img]

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ce/59/b3/ce59b3a0cd521dcc85f039e1e6f3cb87.jpg[/img]
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[sub][color=A4DED2][b]D A U G H T E R[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=A4DED2][b]O F[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=A4DED2][b]H Y P N O S[/b][/color]
[color=807B84][sup]________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[color=A4DED2]23     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     female     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     bisexual[/color]
[color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]▹ hair color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  black[/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]▹ eye color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]   blue[/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]▹ height  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  5' 5"[/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]▹ build  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  slender [/color]
[/sub][/center]
[/cell][cell][justify][sup][color=2e2c2c].[/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]A B I L I T I E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]sleep inducement[/b][/color] - [i]Users can cause others to fall asleep, whether instantaneously or more naturally. Katryna has a more natural touch than her brother when it comes to this, able to get others to gradually drop off into a deep sleep in a way that feels as seamless as breathing.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]dream manipulation[/b][/color] - [i]The user can create, shape, enter, and manipulate the dreams of others, including modifying, fabricating, influencing, and observing dreams, as well as nightmares, able to take absolute control over the intangible yet deeply personal realm of dreaming. While Kat can produce and modify dreams, confer nightmares or lucid dreams, she knows dreams are not just fleeting illusions conjured by a sleeping brain — they are vivid expressions of the subconscious, shaped by emotion, memory, trauma, desire, and thought. They are coded messages from the mind to itself, unbound by logic, and being able to control them means she holds the cipher to them all. Whether the dream is a comforting fantasy, a tangled metaphor, or a howling nightmare, she becomes its architect and master, able to alter its course or create it from nothing. This is something she excels at, more so than her brother, but creating nightmares is something she struggles with. She can do it, but finds she often has too much empathy for such things.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]dream walking[/b][/color] - [i]The user is capable of entering the dreams of others. Kat finds herself subconsciously and accidently doing this when she sleeps, slipping into the dreams of people in physical proximity to her. This leaves her restless and tired, she prefers to sleep as far away from other people as possible.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]passive sleep healing[/b][/color] - [i]Allows a user to regenerate health, stamina, and heals from wounds while they are sleeping. As Katryna struggles to sleep restfully more often than not, she doesn't heal like her brother is able to.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]rare prophetic dreams[/b][/color] - [i]The user is capable of perceiving future events in dreams whether symbolic, direct or from the perspective of another being. Some would consider being touched by prophecy like this a blessing, but to Kat it feels like a curse. Her brother doesn't understand her dreams, but he tries.[/i]

[color=A4DED2][b]S T R E N G T H S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Emotional Intelligence[/b][/color] - [i]Defined as the ability to understand, manage, and use your own emotions, as well as recognize and influence the emotions of others, Katryna has always been able to get a decent read on the people around her as a byproduct of her more quiet and observant nature. It lets her take a step back when emotions are running higher, and try to understand where the other person is coming from before she makes any decisions, and helps her direct others who aren't as emotionally adapt, like her brother, in the right direction.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Observant[/b][/color] - [i]Kat is a watcher, she prefers to step back and observe than take part in most situations, unless participation is absolutely necessary. This lets her pick up and catch things other people are more prone to miss.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Diplomatic [/b][/color] - [i]Not a fan of arguments, or anything overly stressful as a whole, she will still put herself in those situations if it means solving the issue at hand. Her brother likes to say that because she stands so still, that she watches everything, she always knows how to solve the problem.[/i]

[color=A4DED2][b]W E A K N E S S E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Social Anxiety[/b][/color] - [i]Large crowds, new people, putting herself in situations that make her anxiety worse are things she tries to avoid religiously. It all stems from a fear associated with her dreams, she never wants to meet someone who has been in one of her prophetic dreams, the very idea makes her feel sick to her stomach. Meeting new people poses the risk of her worst nightmare coming to life, so she prefers to isolate herself.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Kacper[/b][/color] - [i]Her brother is her other half, if something happened to him it would be like losing a part of herself. She'd do anything for Kacper.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Depression[/b][/color] - [i]It wasn't that she got sad, as if depression could be pressed down to to definition of sadness alone, it's more that most of the time, she felt close to nothing at all. Feeling required nerves, sensory input. The only thing she felt was numb. And tired. Some days are better than others, and Katryna has found ways to cope over the years, but she very often feels as if her depression is tar hardened around her ankles, holding her down. Her brother is always there on her worst days though, keeping her afloat when she feels close to drowning.[/i]

[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[color=A4DED2][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/color]
[b]empathetic[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] loyal[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] perceptive[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] somnolent [color=2e2c2c]....[/color][color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] melancholy[/b]

[color=A4DED2][b]H I S T O R Y[/b][/color]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2002[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Katryna and Kacper Bartosz are born, five minutes and twenty-two seconds apart, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
Elżbieta's daughter did not want to come into this world, she believed this wholeheartedly. Where her son's birth was done with ease, Katryna took nearly six minutes before she joined them. Where her twin was quiet, she screamed loud enough to make the nurses wince in sympathy. Elżbieta had cradled the children in her arms, listening as her daughters cries tempered when Kacper's small hand found her arm, and her first thought was; [i]I cannot do this.[/i]

Not everyone who tangled with one of the Gods knew what they were signing up for until it was too little, too late. Elżbieta had never wanted a child, let alone two, and while she'd done what she thought was best and brought the twins into this world, she could not bring herself to keep them. She would never be able to love them as they deserved, and so while she felt nothing but shame and trepidation, she made a choice that would irrevocably change Katryna and Kacper's lives. She signed the adoption forms, and the name [i]Bartosz[/i] was dashed from their records as easily as snow collected upon the pavement outside. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2012[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Green Manor Orphanage, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
When things grow unbearable, Katryna will curl in on herself. The orphanage is dark, and cold, especially during this time of year. The old, dark floorboards allow drafts of icy wind to swirl into their bedroom, and no matter how many of the thin blankets she piled onto her bed she could never seem to get warm. She tucked her knees up toward her chest, arms curling around them the darkness crept along the walls of the bedroom. [color=54998E]"Happy birthday, [i]siostra."[/i][/color] The soft voice of Kacper cut through the silence of the night, the weight of extra blankets piling onto the bed and the warmth of his body sliding in beside her enough to rouse her mind from that numb, dark place it had settled into. She blinked at him in the darkness, catching only the slight glow of his blue eyes. [color=A4DED2]"Happy brother, [i]brat."[/i][/color] Their accents were strong, though they were making an intentional effort to practice their English. 

Her lips twitched at the flicker of annoyance she caught across her brother's face, now that he knew that the word [i]brat[/i] in English meant [i]ill mannered child[/i] and not just [i]brother[/i] in Polish he would never be content with her using it. His hand, warmer than her own, curled around her wrist beneath the blanket cocoon they'd created. His bed was on the other side of the room, but the twin often shared one bed, especially during winter. [color=54998E]"Will you come with me, just for a few moments?"[/color] His voice was surprisingly tentative, he knew this time of the year was always hard for her and tried to understand as much as possible.

She followed him, because he was her brother and he'd asked and because he tried to understand her when she got like this, and so sliding out of the bed and following him was the least she could do. The orphanage was quiet, it was late into the night and even the matriarch was asleep instead of keeping an eye on the unruly children under her care. The kitchen was dark and worn, butcher block counter tops aged from years of constant use, knicks in the wood staining the polished surface. Atop the middle counter, on a small plate, was a single piece of keks. It was a Polish-style fruit cake, filled with nuts and dried fruits, coated in a soft blanket of powdered sugar, looking as fluffy and pristine as the fine sheen of snow that was collecting along the ledge of the window. 

[color=A4DED2][i]"Co zrobiłeś?"[/i][/color] Kat twisted toward her brother, color flushing her pale cheeks, eyes wide as she clutched at his hand. He was smiling at her panic though, perfectly at ease even as anxiety began to crawl its way up her throat. [color=A4DED2]"What did you do?"[/color] She repeated herself in English, stressing the syllables, shaking his arm a little. [color=A4DED2]"Stealing is dismissal! They’ll throw you out onto the street, Kacper, we cannot—"[/color] His free hand pressed over her lips, eyes darting toward the closed door. Katryna’s voice caught in her throat, and several long seconds dragged out as the twins strained their ears, trying to catch the creak of a loose floorboard that could be the foreboding of the matriarch’s rage falling down on them. 

No one came though, a private part of Kat would eventually wonder if it was a birthday gift from their father in the only way he could provide one, a few minutes of solace together in the dark of the night, sharing a stale slice of Christmas cake Kacper had nicked for their birthday. [color=54998E]"Someday,"[/color] Kas whispered once they were tucked back into her bed, hands clasped tightly together. His voice was laced with drowsiness, on the verge of dropping off into sleep. [color=54998E]"I’ll buy you whatever cake you want for our birthday. I’ll…"[/color] Kat never learned what other wondrous promises her brother could conjure, for he’d fallen asleep before he could finish. Sleep did not come to her, even if she desperately wished it would. 

[color=A4DED2]"Someday,"[/color] she echoed his own word, voice as soft and fleeting as the wind that shook the pane of glass at her window. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling, something dark and heavy settling its weight on her chest. Katryna hated the orphanage, hated how cruel their caretakers could be, how bruises decorated their skin like jewelry more often than not, how they went to bed hungrier and colder each night. Above all else though, she hated how hopeless it all made her feel. No one wanted to adopt twins, no one wanted [i]them,[/i] and Kat could never quite bring herself to trust in the promises her brother whispered. [color=A4DED2]"I’ll believe you."[/color] The words tasted bitter on her tongue like bile, and Katryna pressed her face into her brother's shoulder, trying to find peace in the fact that tonight their bellies did not feel quite so empty. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2017[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Green Manor Orphanage, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
The snow grew deeper as they trudged down the hill. The land was a flat white pall, spread out like rumpled wool. To the left, along the port stretched the sea, sullen and murky beneath the solid ice. They had been taught since they were young that the sea played cruel tricks, seeming frozen and steadfast on the surface, but under the glittering white surface, the black water gulped greedily, hungry to consume the breathing world above if given the chance. A chill wind blew across the frozen water, and they hesitated on the edge. 

There was no marker to show where the land ended and the sea began, except for the drifts of solid water, where it had frosted over, shifted, then frozen again, and again, and again. A never ending cycle of crusted and coiled water, stacked upon each other like crude tombstones. [color=A4DED2]"This doesn’t seem safe,"[/color] Katryna hesitated, the toe of her boot nudging the ice with trepidation. Kacper glanced from the sea, back to his sister, and then back again, seeming to try and make up his mind. 

[color=54998E]"Filip said that Piotr walked out to the buoy and touched it, and then that same day he was adopted out, and then Aurelius touched it too and [i]he[/i] was adopted the next day. It’s good luck, [i]to dobry omen, mieć świecące słońce w swoim śnie."[/i][/color] He pointed up toward the sky where the sun was shining brightly upon them, making the snow and ice luminescent in the early morning. [i]It is a good omen to have the sun shining on your dream.[/i] Kat chewed on her bottom lip nervously, hands pressed tightly together. [color=A4DED2]"I–I don’t think I can,"[/color] Kas shook his head, one of his hands catching around her wrist as his dark hair fell into his eyes. [color=54998E]"You [i]have[/i] to, we get adopted together or not at all. I’ll keep you safe."[/color] 

She wanted to laugh at that, because there was nothing Kacper could do for either of them if they fell through the ice and succumbed to the cold. Instead, she followed her brother out onto the crusted water, hand clutched in his own as the ice groaned beneath their feet like a sleeping giant awakening for the first time in eons. The moved slowly, step after tentative step, her heart beating in her throat as the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Katryna waited for the crack in the ice, for the roar of water to fill her ears, but instead the tips of her fingers brushed over the biting cold of the metal buoy. 

They shared a smile, Kacper’s triumphant and shining, Kat’s nervous and tentative. She knew that her brother knew this was silly, that he was clinging to optimism like a fool clung to the mast of a sinking ship, but she would not be the one to crush that last bit of light from his eyes. The pair turned back toward the shoreline, eager to return to safer land, when a voice cut through the silence that had enveloped them. [color=d6d6d6]"Oi! What are you kids doing on the ice?"[/color] A man’s voice echoed out toward them, making Katryna flinch and Kacper tense. On the edge of a platform several meters away was a man in a dashing business suit, phone held away from his ear, eyes wide as he stared at the two children who had the gall to stand on frozen ice that encompassed the sea. 

Kat could never say if it was truly the buoy that brought about their adoption, though she supposed they’d never have met Leon Lis if they hadn’t ventured out onto that ice, and if they’d never met him, they never would have been adopted. She wasn’t sure what it was that convinced the business man to invest in them, of all things, but against all odds they became family. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]August 23rd, 2023[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Apartamenty Gdańsk Wynajem, Gdańsk, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
Six years had passed faster than any time they’d spent in the orphanage. Moving away from Szczecin after they’d been adopted had been one of the first times Katryna felt as if she could truly breathe. Their new house was everything the children at the orphanage dreamed their homes may be one day, with its sprawling yards that folded into elegant gardens, each twin had their own bedroom bigger than three of the rooms at the orphanage combined. They never went hungry again, never were hit or abused in any form. 

Everything had been doing [i]fine,[/i] even if sometimes Kat had vivid dreams that felt like they were not her own, even if she struggled to sleep because of the strangest occurrences of dreaming things her brother or adopted father or even one of the maids mentioned dreaming themselves. Everything had been fine, until she was a dream so far removed from what was normal that it became the catalyst of everything that made Katryna and Kacper [i]not[/i] normal. 

It was a warm and sunny summer day. Quiet footsteps crunched against freshly fallen leaves hinting at the turning of the seasons that was right around the corner. The soft breeze rustled the trees and cast shadows onto the dirt path that carved through the forest. Small buildings, each one entirely unique and unlike the last, were nestled in the recesses of the thicket as the dreamer passed. Strands of brunette hair, long and wavy, blew in front of their eyes with each gentle gust of wind.

They slowly approached a small clearing where the woods parted and a handful of cabins hugged the treeline. At first the dream was calm. A peaceful walk through the forest and enjoying nature, nothing strange or out of the ordinary. Until there was a squelching sound followed by a hollow thud against wood. Their attention snapped to one of the small homes, finding they were no longer alone. A young woman, brunette and austere, stood in front of the open door, chest heaving with a blade clenched in her fist. Their gaze shifted to the woman’s other hand where her fingers were entangled in a brown mane. They followed the hair down to rolled back eyes, an agape mouth, and a severed neck dripping a pool of crimson on a lifeless body below. 

The dreamer gasped and froze in place. [color=bd1664]"Alex! What did you do?!"[/color] a female voice rang out, stunned and horrified at the events that unfolded before her. 

The murderous woman’s head snapped toward the dreamer with bloodlust in her eyes. She dropped the head, deja vu shivered through their body at the hollow thud. Then the sky ripped open with an earth shattering crack of thunder as a monsoon of blood poured from the heavens and flooded the world in crimson.

Katryna woke sweaty and gasping, hands clutching the silken sheets beneath her as her heart beat a tattoo of rising panic against her ribcage, stomach lurching because the sensation of sticky, warm blood lingered on her skin as if it had been [i]her[/i] in the dream. She lurched from her bed violently, launching the kitten that had been snoozing in her lap onto the floor as she stumbled across the room and into her bathroom, making it just in time to lose her dinner into the toilet. Kat shuddered against the cold porcelain, the memory of a stranger's severed head bouncing off the ground sticking behind her eyelids and refusing removal no matter how hard she tried. 

She curled into herself, into the shape of a comma, but even then a part of Katryna knew there would be no pause from this. Whilst the nightmares were few, and far in between, they always lingered with her for months, coming back with startling clarity. On nights when everything had become completely unbearable she’d gone out running, mile after mile through darkness and cold and silence, her feet drumming against the pavement faster and faster, but never with the intention of getting anywhere, of accomplishing anything. Kat ran as if she were being chased, and in many ways it felt as if she were.

[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2024[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Apartamenty Gdańsk Wynajem, Gdańsk, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
[color=d6d6d6]"I’m here to mentor you, both of you. Consider it a birthday gift, from your father."[/color] Katryna stared at the stranger as if the woman had sprouted a second head and was breathing flames, utterly confused. Kacper moved in front of her, one hand curling into the fabric of the back of her shirt to tug her back from the door. [color=54998E]"Our dad is on a business trip in the states, and he didn’t mention anything about a mentor, let alone us needing one, so—"[/color] The woman raised a hand, stopping Kas so seamlessly that his sister couldn’t help but gap at the sight. It was a cold day in Hell when her brother could be rendered speechless, though it may have simply been the audacity of the woman's actions that stopped him. [color=d6d6d6]"Your [i]actual[/i] father, Kacper."[/color] 

Her eyes drifted past the woman, toward the sky where the snow filled the air with a soft grey-blue mist, softening the wind, bringing the earth and sky together into one swaying blur. The woman looked ethereal in her silver-grey gown, unbothered by the chill in the air as the snow swirled around her, a gentle smile set onto her face as she revealed things that were beyond world altering to the Lis twins. Their lives were never quite the same, and so being sent to Camp Athena after a year under their mentors' tutelage came as no surprise, not to Kat at least. 
 
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]

[center][color=A4DED2][b]hexcode[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]#A4DED2[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=A4DED2][b]faceclaim[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Katie Mcgrath[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=A4DED2][b]creator[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Sleepy Tani[/color][/center][/sup][/justify][/cell]
[/row]
[/table][/indent][/indent][/hider]

[hider=Katryna's Cabin][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/SDCLjhwC/image-2026-03-22-200146810.png[/img][/center][/hider]

[hr]
[hider=Kacper "Kas" Lis][color=#2e2c2c].
.[/color]
[indent][indent][table][row][sup][h1][color=181818][b]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/b][right][b]▅▅▅▅▅[/b][/right][/color][right][color=54998E]Kacper Lis[/color][color=181818]...[/color][/right][/h1][/sup][/row][row]
[cell][color=2e2c2c]....................................................[/color][img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/22/35/d6/2235d6921fb7b1b18c01d99c718ac000.jpg[/img]

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/91/64/a0/9164a0216286319beb0fdd5cb94257f7.gif[/img]

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/f0/90/ad/f090ad5d87281e53041d98c134187ff5.jpg[/img]
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[sub][color=54998E][b]S O N[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=54998E][b]O F[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=54998E][b] H Y P N O S[/b][/color]
[color=807B84][sup]________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] 
[color=54998E]23     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     male     [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color]     demisexual[/color]
[color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________[/sup][/color]
[color=54998E][b]▹ hair color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  black[/color]
[color=54998E][b]▹ eye color  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]   blue[/color]
[color=54998E][b]▹ height  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  6' 0"[/color]
[color=54998E][b]▹ build  [/b][/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=9b9b9b]  muscular / athletic[/color]
[/sub][/center]
[/cell][cell][justify][sup][color=2e2c2c].[/color]
[color=54998E][b]A B I L I T I E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]sleep inducement[/b][/color] - [i]Users can cause others to fall asleep, whether instantaneously or more naturally. To put it bluntly, Kacper is about as gentle at doing this as a bull in a market square. He doesn't have the patience to ease someone else into sleep, and so if this falls on him they're going to get to sleep ASAP and, quite likely, sleep like a rock, and if he's in a particularly bad mood when he induces a state of unconsciousness, he makes sure they'll wake up with a headache.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]dream manipulation[/b][/color] - [i]The user can create, shape, enter, and manipulate the dreams of others, including modifying, fabricating, influencing, and observing dreams, as well as nightmares, able to take absolute control over the intangible yet deeply personal realm of dreaming. Unlike his sister, he doesn't care about the psychology that goes into creating dreams. Kas had helped her have good dreams, and his idea of those are fluffy clouds and meadows of flowers, his creativity only truly shines through when he's crafting nightmares. Nightmares are things that Kacper thrives in, he enjoys making them and seeing the results they can have.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]dream walking[/b][/color] - [i]The user is capable of entering the dreams of others. Much like Kat, Kacper can, on occasion, find himself accidently walking others dreams when he himself is trying to sleep. It doesn't bother him like it does his sister, likely because he doesn't struggle to sleep like she does, and sometimes he'll take extra care to provide a truly thrilling nightmare for his unsuspecting dreaming host. [/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]passive sleep healing[/b][/color] - [i]Allows a user to regenerate health, stamina, and heals from wounds while they are sleeping. He sleeps like a rock, so he heals quite well, thanks for asking.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]rare prophetic dreams[/b][/color] - [i]Not an issue Kacper has to deal with, thank the Gods, but he tries to help his sister where he can.[/i]

[color=54998E][b]S T R E N G T H S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Resourceful[/b][/color] - [i]He can think fast on his feet, likely a byproduct of growing up in an orphanage until they were ten. He can scrounge up food out of almost nothing, find a way out of dicey situations, Kas knows how to handle himself when other people would be lost.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Resilient[/b][/color] - [i]Kacper knows how to survive, how to keep his sister alive, and that's all that matters.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Confident[/b][/color] - [i]Confidence is key, or something like that. He knows he's hot, that he's the heir of an empire, Kas knows he's luckier than others have been and he thrives on it. [/i]

[color=54998E][b]W E A K N E S S E S[/b][/color]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Lack of emotional intelligence[/b][/color] - [i]His sister likes to say he has the emotional range of a hot pocket, and she's not wrong. Emotions have never been big to Kacper, he doesn't have the patience to take time and dissect why someone feels the way they feel, but he tires. It doesn't help that if it's someone he or his sister consider a friend, he simply doesn't care how they're feeling.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Perfectionism[/b][/color] - [i]Exactly what it says on the tin, Kas is not only a perfectionist, but it borders on OCD. If things aren't just right, he will feel like his skin isn't fitting correctly. The obsessive urge to fix things, to make sure it's perfect, will eat at Kas until he's certain everything is just so.[/i]
[color=9b9b9b][b]Katryna[/b][/color] - [i]As the elder brother, Kacper believes it's his duty to take care of his sister no matter what. She's his other half, and often his moral compass.[/i]

[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[color=54998E][b]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/b][/color]
[b]over-protective[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] disciplined[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] aloof[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color] placid[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [color=807B84][b]|[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]sarcastic[/b]

[color=54998E][b]H I S T O R Y[/b][/color]
[color=A4DED2][b]H I S T O R Y[/b][/color]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2002[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Katryna and Kacper Bartosz are born, five minutes and twenty-two seconds apart, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
Elżbieta's son came into the world with vigor, and despite what she may remember of the birth, Kacper was anything but quiet in those first six minutes before his twin was returned to him. Even then, he would not be content with Katryna not by his side. His hand had instinctively found her arm once they were returned onto their mother, and perhaps it was the fact that their mother did not love them enough to keep them, perhaps it was because her first thought was [i]I cannot do this.[/i] but he never quite felt the loss of their mother the same way Kat did. 

In the end, it didn't matter and Kacper was less than a day old, so he'd never know how he really felt about his mother's abandonment of them. As an adult, if he ever took the time to fully analyze it, he'd suppose that a lot of his issues came from this humble start. In the end, Elżbieta signed the adoption forms, and the name [i]Bartosz[/i] was stolen from them before they could ever learn of it's existence. Invisible beyond the curtain of cold fog collecting outside their hospital window, the twins had one parent still looking over them, even if it was in the most distant sense of the word. 

[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2012[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Green Manor Orphanage, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
The arrival of a New Year heralded a symphony of change for most people, but not for orphans at Green Manor. The days dragged on with a repetitiveness that was as ravenous as the cold that slunk into the old building, but Kacper wasn't trying to warm his chilled handed in his bed like the rest of the children tucked away for the night, or like the matriarch who he'd spied dozing by the fireplace in her room, a bottle of white liquor drooping from her limp hand. The hallways were dark and quiet as he slunk through the hallways, dodging loose and creaky floorboards. 

The cool metal of the stolen key bit at the calloused skin of his hands, years of helping in the kitchens, scrubbing floors, cleaning gutters, and other such household chores thrust upon him, alongside all the extra ones he picked up so Katryna didn't have to. None of the tawny muscle and callouses helped with the cold though, and the twins were naturally slim which left them both more vulnerable during the winter months. All the orphans were given the same threadbare clothes, allotted one blanket during summer and two during winter, the same small portions of porridge for breakfast, left over porridge for lunch, and stew for dinner that often times could be doubled as breakfast if the matriarch was feeling particularly hung-over. The pantry clicked open, loud enough that his breath caught in his throat, a moment of hesitation, and then he was sliding the cake free, cutting a slide big enough to be shared between the twins. 

His sister deserved a slice of light for her birthday, and though he'd fallen asleep before he could finish the whispered promises that night, he'd meant to tell her that someday he'd find a way to give brightness to her [i]everyday,[/i] especially on the ones she struggled the most. It was the least he could do for his little sister.

[center][i][color=BABAA9]December 31st, 2017[/color][/i][/center]
[center][i][color=BABAA9]Green Manor Orphanage, Szczecin, Poland.[/color][/i][/center]
[color=54998E]"Filip said that Piotr walked out to the buoy and touched it, and then that same day he was adopted out, and then Aurelius touched it too and [i]he[/i] was adopted the next day. It’s good luck, [i]to dobry omen, mieć świecące słońce w swoim śnie."[/i][/color] He pointed up toward the sky where the sun was shining brightly upon them, making the snow and ice shine in the early morning. He hated to be so vulnerable about the childish hopes that stayed nestled in the darkest parts of his chest, but if he couldn't be honest about it with his twin then he couldn't hope to ever be open with anyone else. [color=A4DED2]"I–I don’t think I can,"[/color] Kas shook his head, because as much as Kat discredited herself he knew her better than she knew herself. She was braver than she knew, if only she'd give herself a chance. [color=54998E]"You [i]have[/i] to, we get adopted together or not at all. I’ll keep you safe."[/color] 

And he would, because she was his twin sister, the other half of his soul. Kacper had always loved Plato's myth in [i]The Symposium.[/i] The story of beings split in two by Zeus, who wander searching for their other half for the rest of their lives. While he'd never put much stock in things like true love, or soulmates, Kas knew that his sister was his other half. They understood each other in a way no others did, and he wanted to give his twin the world. As long as she could be happy, he could live at peace. As a consequence, he'd never much considered his [i]own[/i] happiness, the idea that he could find someone who loved him unconditionally, who was patient and understanding when he withdrew in on himself, it seemed too bizarre to believe it could come true.  

Getting adopted had felt beyond him too, though, and it was the first time that Kacper started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, his sister didn't have to be the only one to have a happy end. The years that followed helped drive that idea home, they'd went from being orphans to the children of a wealthy business man overnight, and several years after that they went from being heir's to a successful company, to being the children on a God sent to some obscure camp. 

To sum it up, in Kas's humble opinion, it was all utter bullshit.
[center][color=807B84][sup]__________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]

[center][color=54998E][b]hexcode[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]#54998E[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=54998E][b]faceclaim[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Ian Somerhalder[/color] [color=2e2c2c]........[/color] [color=54998E][b]creator[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=807B84]|[/color] [color=2e2c2c].[/color] [color=9b9b9b]Sleepy Tani[/color][/center][/sup][/justify][/cell]
[/row]
[/table][/indent][/indent][/hider]

[hider=Kacper's Cabin][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/m5gsFwPj/883-A8-EA7-6-D48-44-FC-B522-80-D66-DF42-EA6.webp[/img][/center][/hider]