Jax

A Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Cʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

So excited! This is going to be fun!

A Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Cʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

Ayren Mullhall

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Ayren Eilís Mullhall

She had brightened the lives of those around her

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---

▾ Name:

Ayrie, Little Warrior, Survivor

▾ Age:

20

▾ Gender:

Female (she/her)

▾ Sexuality:

Pansexual

▾ Relationship Status:

Single and ready to mingle

▾ Piercings, Tattoos, Scars:

A long scar in the center on her chest from the many heart surgeries she's had.

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---

▾ Enthusiastic ▾ Naïve ▾ Creative ▾ Scatter-brained ▾

▾ Skills:

• Persuasion
  Aided with her childlike innocence, an air of honesty, not to mention a cute face that's hard to say no to.
• Courage
  Be it wanting to live life to the fullest, or stupidity, she's up for anything.
• Patience
  Having laid around in bed doing nothing fun all her life makes one very enduring to long periods of waiting.
• Improvise
  Despite being spacey, Ayren can act quickly and think of a solution quickly if time calls for it.

▾ Hometown:

Ballymacarbry, Ireland

▾ Cause of Death:

She died of a broken heart.

Literally of course, and not like a hopeless romantic, more like being born with a deformed heart. Slow and painful, which is best how to describe her suffering in life, not that she'd admit to it, the constant smile on her face would have told you otherwise. She believed her existence was selfish, forcing her mother to pay bill after bill, Ayren unable to work due to her fragility and ability to get sick at a drop of a hat. It was because of this guilt that despite everyone's efforts, she tried to help out as much she could, be it cleaning up the house she was imprisoned in, cooking or just listening to your troubles.

Of course then came the one day she didn't wake up, her heart had simply given out after years of straining. As boring and unheroic much to her disappoint it was, her death definitely surprised her mother when she found her daughter's lifeless body, something's she's tried to prepare for all of Ayren's life. Sort of like a fire drill, but instead of a fire consuming her home, it was the fire of her child's life that had been extinguished.

▾ Years Reborn:

Two

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---

▾ Living Biography:

Born in a small village literally none had heard of in the middle of nowhere in Ireland, it suited the empty shell of a person Ayren would grow up to be, existing but never to be heard of. She was apparently the luckier of the twins that were born, her brother never making it, but she somehow had. Her father was just a mistake of a drunkard who was more than likely dead in a ditch by the time she came into the world. Not that he mattered much anyway. What did matter, though, would be the trials and tribulations Ayren put her mother through just by being alive.

It was obvious that she was not a healthy child to start with, being born too soon didn't help. What did help was moving to the states where opportunities were, but with the cost of the family farm, that had been in the family for decades as well any other possession previously held dear, sold. Now with easier access to doctors and other medical needs, Ayren was able to show vital signs of living, but not exactly live.

Ayren was constantly fussed over; a cool draft could become the flu, and the flu could be the end. With a weak heart and weak immune system, she was home schooled and made very little interaction aside from her doctors and mother. She never really felt annoyed by the attention, more so felt guilty for being the cause of so much stress. As a result, she always tried to make those around her happy. Usually in charming ways, be it compliments, singing, jokes, to more harmful like lying about not feeling well to playing like she's getting better, which of course leads to collapsing and causing more worry. Let's just say life wasn't good for Ayren, who tried to milk as much joy out of her dried out boring life as she could.

Until the very end, she tried to make life about others. Remembering the one nurse who drew her blood's favorite flowers, and making them out of origami (which she learned from another nurse who she complimented), saying happy birthday to one doctor, or asking how the grandchild of a regular patient did at his play. Ayren wanted anyone and everyone to feel the happiness she'd never be able to have, but despite her lack of self-worth, she touched those around her without knowing it.

▾ Postmortem Biography:

Ironically in death, she's filled in the husk of a person she could have been, being able to do the things she never was able to whilst constantly bedridden. She has become more keen to explore the world and all its secrets and wonders. Ayren feels lighter than air now that she had shed her constant fear of dying at a moment's notice. It's now her time to shine, despite not really existing anymore, and she's ready to experience what it means to live at any cost.

A Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Cʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

Ayren Mullhall

---

---

Ayren Eilís Mullhall

She had brightened the lives of those around her

---

---

▾ Name:

Ayrie, Little Warrior, Survivor

▾ Age:

20

▾ Gender:

Female (she/her)

▾ Sexuality:

Pansexual

▾ Relationship Status:

Single and ready to mingle

▾ Piercings, Tattoos, Scars:

A long scar in the center on her chest from the many heart surgeries she's had.

---

---

▾ Enthusiastic ▾ Naïve ▾ Creative ▾ Scatter-brained ▾

▾ Skills:

• Persuasion
  Aided with her childlike innocence, an air of honesty, not to mention a cute face that's hard to say no to.
• Courage
  Be it wanting to live life to the fullest, or stupidity, she's up for anything.
• Patience
  Having laid around in bed doing nothing fun all her life makes one very enduring to long periods of waiting.
• Improvise
  Despite being spacey, Ayren can act quickly and think of a solution quickly if time calls for it.

▾ Hometown:

Ballymacarbry, Ireland

▾ Cause of Death:

She died of a broken heart.

Literally of course, and not like a hopeless romantic, more like being born with a deformed heart. Slow and painful, which is best how to describe her suffering in life, not that she'd admit to it, the constant smile on her face would have told you otherwise. She believed her existence was selfish, forcing her mother to pay bill after bill, Ayren unable to work due to her fragility and ability to get sick at a drop of a hat. It was because of this guilt that despite everyone's efforts, she tried to help out as much she could, be it cleaning up the house she was imprisoned in, cooking or just listening to your troubles.

Of course then came the one day she didn't wake up, her heart had simply given out after years of straining. As boring and unheroic much to her disappoint it was, her death definitely surprised her mother when she found her daughter's lifeless body, something's she's tried to prepare for all of Ayren's life. Sort of like a fire drill, but instead of a fire consuming her home, it was the fire of her child's life that had been extinguished.

▾ Years Reborn:

Two

---

---

▾ Living Biography:

Born in a small village literally none had heard of in the middle of nowhere in Ireland, it suited the empty shell of a person Ayren would grow up to be, existing but never to be heard of. She was apparently the luckier of the twins that were born, her brother never making it, but she somehow had. Her father was just a mistake of a drunkard who was more than likely dead in a ditch by the time she came into the world. Not that he mattered much anyway. What did matter, though, would be the trials and tribulations Ayren put her mother through just by being alive.

It was obvious that she was not a healthy child to start with, being born too soon didn't help. What did help was moving to the states where opportunities were, but with the cost of the family farm, that had been in the family for decades as well any other possession previously held dear, sold. Now with easier access to doctors and other medical needs, Ayren was able to show vital signs of living, but not exactly live.

Ayren was constantly fussed over; a cool draft could become the flu, and the flu could be the end. With a weak heart and weak immune system, she was home schooled and made very little interaction aside from her doctors and mother. She never really felt annoyed by the attention, more so felt guilty for being the cause of so much stress. As a result, she always tried to make those around her happy. Usually in charming ways, be it compliments, singing, jokes, to more harmful like lying about not feeling well to playing like she's getting better, which of course leads to collapsing and causing more worry. Let's just say life wasn't good for Ayren, who tried to milk as much joy out of her dried out boring life as she could.

Until the very end, she tried to make life about others. Remembering the one nurse who drew her blood's favorite flowers, and making them out of origami (which she learned from another nurse who she complimented), saying happy birthday to one doctor, or asking how the grandchild of a regular patient did at his play. Ayren wanted anyone and everyone to feel the happiness she'd never be able to have, but despite her lack of self-worth, she touched those around her without knowing it.

▾ Postmortem Biography:

Ironically in death, she's filled in the husk of a person she could have been, being able to do the things she never was able to whilst constantly bedridden. She has become more keen to explore the world and all its secrets and wonders. Ayren feels lighter than air now that she had shed her constant fear of dying at a moment's notice. It's now her time to shine, despite not really existing anymore, and she's ready to experience what it means to live at any cost.

A Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Cʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

Ooh, interested! This sounds like fun!

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

Soccer episode confirmed(?)

@NarayanK

maybe the landowner signed everyone up for soccer so they can grow closer or something lmao

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

Um, please stop kicking things, I just cleaned up.

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

Rebel

Rebel stood watching the other tenants, hoping she was a late bloomer of a superhero and the power of invisibility would be granted to her. She half wished that demonic cat creature from that one anime would appear and offer her a contract. It'd totally be worth losing her soul, even though she was sure not even a little alien being would want such a corrupted concept.

The onion watched as if she were a cameraman recording a documentary on "normal' humans interacting. Although she hoped it was those documentaries that didn't show the behind the scenes where the lion would maul one of their own.

It appeared that the crowd was beginning to disperse, some more horrifyingly louder than others. That being the obvious sound of the original scream of terror she had heard earlier, him running back to scream in his own apartment. She was thankful not to be his next door neighbor. Speaking of neighbors, one decided to speak to her.

And here comes the mauling. Rebel thought despite Brown, as he had introduced, seemed to be one of the friendly ones. Either that or he was hiding his true self, probably already thinking of a way to murder her if her pounding heart full of fear didn't kill itself first.

Rebel froze, wondering if he was talking to her, despite holding a hand out to her as well making eye contact. Benefit of the doubt, right? She looked away, pretending to not have noticed him, eyes wondering until she spotted of course the butt doodle that all the world could see. Her eyes widened, looking back to Maurice, then back to the drawing. Before she could think rationally and not so obviously, Rebel dove for the picture, stuffing it in her mouth despite the possibilities of suffering from ink poisoning. A distinct clink of her key slipping out of her pocket and landing on the floor would probably be the closest thing to a guardian angel Rebel was ever going to get.

Rebel slipped in and out of site all in a clumsy and rude fashion, much unlike the smooth ninja like way she thought she had. Of course leaving the poor polite person met with the front of her shut door.

"That could have gone worse," the introverted artist coughed out after she pulled out the page of art from her mouth. Tongue dyed mostly black from the ink, she went to clean her mouth out, this not being the first time she's come to force herself to eat her work and flee the scene all in one go.

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

Rebel

Checking every nook and cranny, the pink haired Rebel nodded to herself, figuring she got every paper. She gave a cool nod to the landowner who she didn't realize was still sweeping, but for some reason her disguise made her feel like she could do anything. Although almost immediately, her old self came back as she tripped over her own feet in fear as there was another bout of screaming. However, this time, said noises were paired with several gun shots. More shouting and several more thunderous burst of gunfire echoes from the apartments. Rebel could do was lay on the ground with the crunch of paper in her hoodie, hoping to merge with the ground like a glitchy video game character.

Forced to follow the laws of physics, stayed on the ground for a moment longer before getting back up. Her pink wigs was askew, her real dark hair showing very obviously, but all she wanted was the hide away in her new home. Slowly but steadily, with the sound of paper shuffling with every move, she made her way back to the door.

Much to her horror, a group of people that seemed equivalent to a Renaissance painting she had studied in art classes, had formed. I can almost see the golden ratio, Rebel thought, surprised at her remembrance of the useless lessons she's still never used to this day.

That being said, the onion quickly reached for the doorknob, but was met with resistance from the door, slamming into. Her paper filled stomach bulge rustled with protest, a piece of paper (it's a butt drawing if needing a tw) fluttering out without her noticing. She rubbed her forehead at where she was sure a bruise would form. She tried again, only to realize that she locked herself out, forgetting her key was just in her pants pocket. But the possibility of interacting with others was the only thing she could think of. There was no escaping them, so she just stood before her door, flattening herself like a flounder would on the bottom of the sea.

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

@NarayanK I have an idea: what if items go missing in everyone's rooms, and they start blaming each other (or just Yagamine), only for it to turn out to be a raccoon living in the vents. :3c

Working on a post too!

The Maple Neighborhood [Comedy / Episodic Slice-of-Life]

Rebel

"What do I do? What do I do?" Rebel mumbled in a mantra, although unlike the calming phrases in yoga, only made her freak out more. As far as she knew only adults lived in this apartment, but what if a tiny child person wanders by after school, and their innocence is ruined by her naughty art?

Is it even a school day? What month is it? Do children go to school anymore? She delved further into this thought process as a distraction, however was brought back to reality when she could hear the commotion outside. They must all know it was her filth that was scattered in the yard. She already didn't want to show her face in public. Will she have to be banished from outside all together. "Pull yourself together," Rebel whispered harshly to herself, but didn't have the authority to tell herself that given she fell apart at even the slightest inconvenience.

Although an idea came to her as she noticed what looked to be a brightly colored creature trying to escape one of her open boxes. Pulling off the lid, she found her stash of cosplay items from when she went through an anime phase. It wasn't that she didn't like anime now, it was just more subtle. Picking up the creature that turned out to be a medium length wig, being a bright pink like that

dead magical girl

she cosplayed that one summer.

"Perfect! Now no one will recognize me!" Rebel exclaimed, brushing through the brightly colored hair that hid her own messy mop. Although it didn't run through her head that she looked exactly the same, wearing the same outfit nonetheless. If anything, she stood out more with the bright beacon on her head, but she felt unstoppable, as if the strength from the godly anime girl she impersonated ran through her veins. That or her brain's so panic stricken that its shut down and she's on auto pilot at the moment.

She opened the door, quietly slipping past the group of people gathered the other direction to the front of the building. Quickly, she stuffed any and every piece of paper she could find inside of her hoodie, crumpling the evidence, and appearing probably seven months pregnant with the amount of paper she stashed away. Rebel pondered whether or not she should just burn them, but the chance of committing arson was too high. The paper shredder would do.