Okay, Chilly, Frosty, let's try this, all together, just like we practiced, combining all our thoughts.

Happy CBVersary to you--yay!--happy CBversary to you!--yay!--Happy CBversary dear Scccyyylllllaaaaaaaaa, Happy CBversary to you!

Did you REALLY have to break out of unison and say YAY every few seconds!?

Jealous of my am-yay-zing power?

ANYTHING BUT!!! 

Guys! Stop arguing! This is Scylla's CBversary!

Right. NORMAL parties would have a cake, but we wrote a picturing for you, and practiced reciting it in unison. To perfection.

Ready...set....go!

A single blossom fell from a tree full of blossoms. It was a cherry blossom tree, and it only bloomed the greatest. It was the youngest--coolest--cherry blossom on the hill, and it held on to the rocks and crags proudly, with it's pink and white blossoms waving their colored flags--according to Icy, that's nerd for Petals--proudly. This tree was special. It was the youngest on the hill, and it seeded from the elder tree, a tree that gave one seed, then seeded no more.

*takes a deep breath*

The blossom flew through the air, journeying through forest and plain, laughing because it was lost, and needed not to go home, for it had no needs. And then, suddenly, the blossom flew onto the sill of a young girl. This young girl had a mother and father, and, although she wanted siblings, her mother could not give birth anymore.

And the blossom was sad. And the blossom wished to help.

Now, this is the part that I will read on my own. Frosty and Chilly may voice some of the Charecters, as will I. Ahem.

So the Blossom spiraled into the house while the girl was there, and the girl cupped the blossom in her hands, and suddenly it had found the spark of magic that it desired. The girl said... the girl said........ ... ... ..... CHILLY. "The girl said--It's changing, it really is." And the blossom was changing. It had become...a small toddler. About one years old. And it had no memory of it's time as a blossom, and it had no realization of the powerful spark of magic of a mother's wish inside of it.

And the family took the child in, and taught it to speak, and it was their own child. They called her Petal, because of the secret of what she used to be.

Over time, the girl became a strong, energetic teenager with a crop of silvery-pink hair. She was as brave as she was beautiful, and strong. She fashioned herself a bow out of the branches of a fallen cherry blossom tree on the top of a mountain that she had climbed with nothing but her bare hands, and shot it day and night.

One day, raiders came to the girl's village.

The raider walked past a boarded door. And another. He and his three, clad in full iron armor, companions walked by. And suddenly, the raider stopped. At their door. Petal intook breath sharply, and her older sister pulled her away from the boards at their door, and her father--"Go! Petal, go to your room!" Too early Frosty, but whatever. Petal wouldn't take no for an answer, but her family pulled her back, and although she could have easily fought against them, she wouldn't hurt her family. 

Petal paced her room, and then her eyes fell on her bow and arrows. She took the arrows from their pile on the floor, slowly and carefully, and then she slung the quiver onto her back, quietly relishing the moment of putting the arrows in, then putting on her roughspun green cloak and fumbling with the Celtic clasp before putting it on, and holding the bow up, and then...leaving her room just in time to see the bandits burst in.

One swung a staff at her adopted father. She saw him fly through the air, and she brought herself into one, unifyed wish that he would be okay, and then she brought the arrow back--and the wish changed.

It became magic. And it flew into her. And then....her eyes fired into a green color. And then a blue. And then a red. And then, she spoke, her voice quiet but seeming to fill the whole room. "Why are you here." She said, quiet and determined. The bandit gasped, and she saw fear in his eyes. "I-I-I I seek you! The Petal child! The Child with enough magic in her fingertip to destroy an entire planet!"

And her memories of being a blossom, of being an ancient tree, woven by magic sorcerors to whom the tree was sacred to, simply because it was a tree made entirely of magic, flooded back. "M-my name isn't petal..." She whispered.

Her name was Scylla. And she would protect her village. 

Happy CBversary! It's quite a milestone. Have a muffin to celebrate. *tosses conffetti in the air*

Happy CBversary one day late! I'm not sure if it's still also mine, because I'm a former CBer and not an active one, but yay for you!

Xiao tuzi says "farm." No, you don't live on a farm, you live in Nonexistence land!

Happy CBversary to you, one day late! Yayyyyyyy, Scylla! *Shoots cupcakes and confetti and words into the air*

Leafpoooooool!!!! Don't throw the words! Words are nice!

*Cough cough* Serene. Don't. Please, for one day, don't.

Congrats Scylla! And I'm so happy, bc i thought you left too! (Haven't been on in awhile)

Congratulations!!! The role play sounds awesome too. Yeah, I've been somewhat inactive myself.