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doormou-se — Beans of the Apocalpyse - War
Published: 2019-11-22 01:17:58 +0000 UTC; Views: 845; Favourites: 26; Downloads: 11
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Description
With the thunder of clashing steel, the red bean carries destruction, hatred, and wrath on its shoulders. The embodiment of war, they are one with those who fight and those who have been lost.
Traits: Short fur, curly tail tuft, long ears, ankle tufts. This is a free bean, so will fill a free slot.
*this is a regular JBD and all war references are purely flavor text
To win this bean, tell me the consequences of their actions. You may interpret this prompt however you wish, and with as much detail, art, and writing as you see fit, as long as everything in your form is linked to the prompt. Your response does not have to be related to war. This is a limited time contest; impress me.
Name:
Gender:
What are the consequences of this bean's actions?:
The contest will end after the weekend, on November 25th at 11:59pm PST
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Comments: 9
Hey!! I'm sorry to have taken such a long time to judge - I asked to be impressed and y'all delivered. That being said, with the help of some friends I was able to decide on a winner! Congratulations bellumii , take great care of Mamba!
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ahhhh i will treasure her thank you!!! i cant wait to start developing her <33
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This Is WarName: Micah
Gender: Male
What are the consequences of this bean's actions?:
Eyes darting across the rustic room, habitually adjusting the collar of his wine-stained suit, the disgruntled bachelor slumped his shoulders and melted into the counter top of the bar. His left paw still holding onto the empty shot glass that was a part of his small-yet-growing collection of similar adornments.
Entranced with a repetitive motion of circling one of his fingers on the surface of the glass, he let himself dissolve into the sounds of clinking pitchers and balls being sent flying across the aging pool tables. An ancient radio mounted on a rickety shelf on the other side of the room droned on with a distorted tone to the tune of the local station playing "80's Top Hits," prompting him to flatten his ears in an attempt to ignore the mind-numbing sounds that were amplifying the static feeling consuming his limbs.
A
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wearing a warning sign/wait til the world is mine. . . .
"ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs?"
"ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴏɴsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇs.
ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ, ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴᴛ."
the awkward silence that is bound to come after such a bold statement remains for a few heartbeats, interrupted only by the wet spattering of rainwater on the make
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ELHGARDE, the harbinger of war
He is the One who stands with the victorious, He is the One who stands with the defeated.
He is the One who triumphs against his enemies, the One who strikes them down to their knees.
He is the One who is struck to his knees, defeated by those he loathed for forever and more.
He is the One who was taken from his family, the One whose family was taken from Him.
He is the One who has taken the families from his people.
He is the One who commands his soldiers from the front lines with honour and courage,
but He is also the man who stands behind in cowardice, afraid to lose his meaningless life.
He is the blade that protects, the blade who kills.
The blade who bathes in blood, the blade who could never see its worth.
He is the arrow that pierces hearts, the arrow that lays worthless on the ground.
The shield that protects, the shield that breaks.
He is everyone and everything.
Yet He is only One.
He is War, and there is none able to best him.
━━━━
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I put my entry in stash, I hope that's alright!
Bean of the Apocalypse - War
Name: Captain Mason
Gender: Male
What are the consequences of this bean's actions?:
Fire burned around him, and buildings laid in waste. The scent of the fires were like perfume in his nose, a job well done. To carry out the orders of his King, and with such ease. His troops had made short work of the town and had eliminated all of the threats to their king and kingdom. Fixing his Commander-Hat, and straightening his dust covered uniform, he walked proudly through the decimated streets, eyeing his troops handy work. His attention was grabbed by motion in the corner of his eye. He slowed to a halt and clasped his hands behind his back as he turned his attention to the slightly moving rubble. A tiny hand emerged, and he frowned as he turned to face the rubble. Slowly, a child's form pulled itself from the rubble. The child's face was burnt and dust covered. A soft sound escaped the child's mouth, before a sigh an
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