No one forced me to make this app. So calm down and go eat a chocolate bar or something, it helps sometimes.
Also, line breaks upset quotation marks. So please excuse the random periods before and after dialogue.

Books and Coffee

You liked libraries.
In fact, it doesn't matter whether you like libraries or not. For the sake of furthering my creativity, you now like libraries. That's alright, you can feel used. I'm using you, after all. Is it that bad to like books, though?
So, back to the immediate point. You liked libraries, but it was close to closing and the darkening building was starting to look ominous. High, arched windows that let light shine in pleasantly during the day didn't have near the same effect at night, and the shadows of the stacks of books were spooky in the dim light.
You were trying to preserve the silence, but every time you rounded a corner you let out a small squeak-- something else was in here. You could see its shadow. It moved nimbly and gracefully, and it seemed intent on ducking out of your way when you started to see it.
You glanced around nervously at the shelves on either side of you, brushing the ceiling with a precariously balanced ladder leaned against it. There was a sound behind you, and instantly you were alert, panic rising in your chest and a shout building in your throat. Your feet were moving, slowly, carefully, and then faster. You were running and then-- you collided with something running in the opposite direction, and before you knew it both of you were sprawled on the floor.
You sat up, grumbling about your head hurting, when you saw the man in front of you push himself to his feet and brush the dust off his shirt brusquely. He was a young bori, early twenties maybe, lean and pale. He looked annoyed, but…then again, you had just run right into him.
."You ran right into me," he said irately, stating your thoughts and shaking his head. He offered you a hand, which you gratefully took. "What on earth were you running from?".
."S-something was chasing me," you explained, frowning. It occurred to you that this was slightly embarrassing.
He gave you a skeptical look, then shrugged. "That would be the zombie. Usually she stays in her cage in the religious-fiction section, but sometimes she gets hungry. Don't worry, she won't try to eat you if you're with me.".
You wanted to accuse him of lying to you, but then you saw his face and it occurred to him that he may be perfectly serious. And then he started laughing.
."I-I'm sorry," he choked out through his fit of giggles. "Usually I can keep up a charade longer than that. But--you're face! Sorry! I--heheh--my name is Tax. I'm a st-student nearby." He was doubled over, still roaring with laughter.
Your face fell, but all you could get out was "…there's no zombie?".
He straightened up with a hiccup, still snorting. "No. There's no zombie. Sorry…heh. Uh--yeah, sorry. Here, we should be leaving." He picked up two books from the ground, blew the dirt off their spines, and tucked them under his arm. "It's getting late, after all. There's a coffee shop not far from here. What do you say? My treat," he offered, seeing you hesitation (you were depressingly aware of your empty pockets).
You nodded, offering him a smile which he readily returned. You exited the library with Tax by your side, going on about his GPA, his part time job at the library, his plans for the future, and the family he was waiting to go home to at the end of the semester. He sure can talk, you thought, watching in awe as he went on, gesturing with his hands as the words poured out of his mouth. Granted, he did have a way with words. "I work in the children's section of the library, mostly. I love kids. They have the most active imaginations. What about you, do you like kids?" You opened your mouth despite knowing he wouldn't give you time to answer.
And he didn't, he skipped on to how he liked his coffee as he opened the door to the almost deserted coffee shop. He led you up to the counter, where he kept up his one-sided conversation with you until the rather angry looking kid behind the counter gave a sharp Sir? at which point he turned to her and rattled off his order without missing a beat. (His order consisted of a slice of the lemon pie sitting on the counter and a cup of tea, earl grey, which you noticed wasn't actually on the menu, but the girl behind the counter didn't seem to mind. He seemed to be a regular.)
You were a little more halting with the ordering of a chocolate chip cookie and a cup of coffee, but the girl seemed quite satisfied with your speed.
Tax glanced around, and then his eyes fell on the only other occupant of the café, a human sipping a hot cocoa with a book in her lap. He dragged you over to her, beaming. "Mihn!" he called. She looked up, raised an eyebrow.
."Tax? Who's this?" The human looked from the bori to you, then back to her book regretfully before she dog-eared the well-worn page and set it away.
."Oh, this is…" he hesitated, his ears drooping. "I never did get your name," he said apologetically.
You nodded. "I'm guest ," you said with a half hearted smile, to which Tax nodded.
."See, there? This is guest." He sat you down at the table, pulling up a chair for himself, which he turned around and plunked himself down in. "This is Mihn. I live with her.".
The human shook her head. "Not yet. We're getting there, though, aren't we, buddy?".
He nodded eagerly, then turned to you in explanation. "There are some legal matters Mihn is working out," he said slowly. "Something about…?" He looked at her for clarification.
."Your parents. Legally he should have been living with his uncle from the time he was twelve until he was eighteen," she told you, while Tax nodded along. "He was classified as a runaway since he hadn't been. He's twenty-one now but his uncle and his parents' lawyer don't want him moving in with strangers.".
."I'm a legal adult," the bori said with a shrug. "I can do whatever I want.".
."Sure you can, buddy." The human gave him a grin, which he returned. The girl from behind the counter strolled over to the table, and set down your order.
Immediately delighted with the food, Tax began shoveling the pie into his mouth, mumbling about how good it was.
You laughed, then turned to the human. "So, Mihn, was it?" She nodded. "What's this about wanting Tax to stay with you?"

Meet Mihn

Well, now that we've had a moment to meet Taxj, (or Tax, as I will be referring to him) I suppose I should welcome you to my application. My name is Mihn (You may pronounce that "mine." I suppose you could pronounce it any number of ways, but "mine" would be correct.) and this is my application for Tax, the faerie bori.
[She laughs nervously, thinks for a moment, and then shrugs.]
I don't know quite how to introduce myself here. I'm a sarcastic teenager with a habit for staying on the computer until all hours-- those aren't unique traits, but honest all the same. In real life I'm the awkward know-it-all who has made a habit of talking down to people. On the internet I'm not much better, to be perfectly truthful. I like celery, oreos, Star Wars, dragons, and Pokemon, and I prefer Coke to Dr. Pepper and Pepsi. I wear pants and sweaters year round, despite the weather, and I like rain. An utter hatred for science and math has found its way into my heart, as well as a great dislike for foreign language classes. I've also been told I'm obsessed with the military history of France. I have a black lab named Shadow who likes to jump and chew on important things like Christmas trees and Xbox controllers.
I'm a digital artist and a PC. (You can see my art on my DA. My account name there is also Mihneis.) Dangerous amounts of my day are spent on the computer, and my grade in Phys. Ed. is a testament to this. [She grins, then waves it off flippantly.] Mostly I'm browsing DA or I'm here on Neopets when I'm on the internet, since I can't find anything better to do.
Now let's look at something more interesting.
My life here on neopets.
My oldest account is four years old, but I've been frequenting neopets for almost six years with the help of my older brother's account. Interesting tidbit? Both of our first accounts were named after pokemon. Mine was spelled incorrectly, his was a trainer.
Needless to say, I've come a lot farther in those six years than I thought possible. My neopets now represent pieces of myself, irreplaceable characters I've grown to love. At the moment I have 5 accounts, and I've never had one frozen. I've received one warning in the past (on my first account) for a rather…ahem, offensive comment I made about Albus Dumbledore. What can I say? I don't like the guy that much.
But that's all I have to say about myself. Now, we can get into something interesti--

Meet Tax

^ Right click and hit "view image" or drag to your address bar to view! [The bori reaches out and shoves her out of her chair, taking her place across from you and cutting her off quite efficiently]
Mihn, you're rambling again. No, I don't want you to do this. C'mon, can't I have a say in this? You're talking about me, I think I deserve a turn.
[The two argue for a bit, interjecting over each other while their voices steadily rise.]
…No, I don't want to take turns! Admit it, I'm better at talking than you are. Besides, you're applying for me right? Right. No, no, don't tell me anything because I just stopped listening.
[Tax turns to you, grinning, while Mihn reluctantly submits and takes his seat, grumbling darkly.]
Right-o! Well, I've decided Mihn can't ramble half as well as I can. And she digresses far too quickly from her point, so I think I'll be taking over now.
My name is Tax J. Kane. The topic of my middle name is a touchy subject, so let's not ask what the J stands for. (It's Jarvis. Now go away. You were going to start pestering me soon, I know it.) Mihn is insisting I tell you a little bit about myself, being brief if it's possible so we can continue with whatever she was talking about earlier. I'm not letting her get a word in edgewise for the rest of this application, though, so don't expect to hear too much from her.
So, I told you my name already. I'm twenty-one, I'm in my fourth year of college and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. Something with words, I think. I work part time at a library not far from my apartment. Yeah, that's nothing to be impressed with, don't ask too much about it. I like tea, lemons, and birds. I've got a gobbler, too. His name is Dinner.
…Stop looking at me like that. It was funny back when he could take a joke. He's old now, though. Doesn't do much, but he can fall asleep anywhere you put him.
I don't like green things. Sorry, nothing against the color. It's the taste. Kiwis, grapes, broccoli-- things like that. I don't like people who don't stop talking, either.
What? Why are you laughing? Yes, I know I talk too much. I don't like people who don't let me talk. It's why I kept getting sent to the principal's office in grade school-- my history teacher had lungs and a vocabulary to rival those of myself (may I boast for a moment that I am an excellent Scrabble player?).
Mihn wants me to tell you all about my life. To be honest, I don't want to get too far into it. Or get into it at all. I'm too lazy to bother giving you a day-by-day of my life. So let's go with this…my parents tried to send me to my uncle's when I was twelve. I lived with him, across the country from my folks, for five years. I hitchhiked my way back home, met up with a buddy. I lived in his house until two weeks before my eighteenth birthday and then my uncle found me. I had to go back and live with him--
[He catches your eye and pauses, then shakes his head.]
No, he wasn't that bad. In fact, he was a nice guy. Only ten years or so older than me, relatable, father of twin girls, his wife left him and took the kids a year before I left for the first time. He was a good man, but I had a best friend and a life three hundred miles away. So I couldn't just stick around.
Anyway. He knew I'd be leaving on my eighteenth birthday, but he didn't know I'd be out of his house before dawn.
The man threw a fit. That was three years ago and now he's all upset that I want to move into Mihn's house. She's got a big family, what's one more mouth to feed, you know? My uncle's saying I'm a runaway, saying he's still my legal guardian. I don't see a legitimate claim there, but there's still some legal scuffle. Pffft. Leave me out of this, I say. I don't know anything about this and I don't care. That sounds incredibly ignorant, but…
[He hesitates for a moment, sipping his tea thoughtfully. Then he laughs and shrugs.]
Well, it's true.

Why me…

I'm burying my modesty six feet under with this section, I'll have you know. This section is supposed to be about why Mihn wants me, but…well, I'm in charge, aren't I? So I think I'll just tell you all the reasons Mihn could possibly want me. After all, this is her least favorite section of any application. Not because she doesn't love me, of course. Because she can't figure out how to not make it say "he's a faerie bori with a cool name and for some reason I can't live without him." In fact, I'm still going to touch on that because…let's face it, I'm not only incredibly dashing, but my name is pretty fantastic. And I'm amazing overall.
I'm off subject again. It depresses Mihn to fail to be unique in this section. So I have no contest, and I can speak freely. So listen up, because this is why Mihn wants Tax and not any other poor, sad bori.
Because it's impossible not to love me. That's right. I'm coming off as arrogant already. Mihn told me she liked me the second she saw me. Said she knew I had a real personality. Other people may see a difficult-to-obtain bori, Mihn said she was thinking of a personality before she considered my paint brush color. The species, that was a selling point, too. She's never had a bori, but she's put decent thought into a bori character on more than one occasion. Personally, I'm glad I'm the first. Makes me feel special.
My name. I've heard four letter names are quite rare. Besides that, a nickname like Tax is not only extraordinarily catchy, but simple and easy. It rolls off the tongue. Mihn agrees with me on this one. My name is awesome.
My personality is a change of pace. That sounds odder than I thought it would. Mihn's family is extremely intricate, but they can be classified allowing for some of them in more than one category. "Over protective," "troubled," "arrogant," and "obnoxious" are the most frequented. She says it's nice to have someone, a character was the word she used, who's more upbeat. I don't fit into her usual categories. Alright, I come close to arrogant. But not quite. I fit into "easily amused," "teasing," and "gluttonous.
[He coughs uncomfortably, then looks at Mihn, and shrugs, letting her take over for a moment.]

Thanks. Why do I want Tax? To be perfectly honest, I am entirely in love with him and that's pretty much my only reason. In the few days I've been working with him, trying to decide his appearance, personality, and place in the world (really, I've considered this), he's actually taught me something. That sounds ridiculous, I know it does, but listen, please.
I've always had trouble intertwining my characters. Usually I have a character so set out there isn't much room for anyone to prance in and change it. I still haven't fixed that, but I had a character I was working with a bit earlier (his name is Cale. I'll probably rant about him later) and he's still fresh meat. I still have to work him out, and then I realized "Wait. I have a hot-headed, smooth-talking, compulsive liar. And I have a calm, pretentious, imperious loud-mouth. And both of them are egotistic jokers." and it occurred to me Cale and Tax would get along remarkably well. In the course of three days I've found both purposes and places for two characters, in my art, writing, and heart.
So if you want to know why I really want Tax, it's not his name, it's not his species, and it isn't because he's a pretty color. I want Tax because he's already wormed his way into my heart and I don't intend to clear him out anytime soon.
[She falls silent for a moment, then smiles, her tone losing the seriousness it had acquired as she spoke. She gave Tax a hearty push, leaving him on the ground in a state of half shock, a mumbled "Hey" on his lips.]
But just because I love him does not mean I'm letting him have my chair.
[She looked at the bori pointedly. He opened his mouth in protest and then shrugged, laughing. "You can take it from here, Tax," she said, to which Tax stood and plopped himself back in his original spot, taking the center of attention once again.]

Why Mihn?

Oh, hey, I can do this one!
[Tax seemed enormously happy about this, a smile stretching across his face from ear to ear.]
All I have to do is talk about Mihn. Which I guess I can manage-- it's not as easy as talking about myself. Oh, I'm being bigheaded again, I really should stop. Anyway, I've been thinking of reasons I should go with Mihn for a while now.
Mihn's pretty active. Sure. I won't say she's on every day for twelve hours, but she does a decent job of keeping up with everything on Neo. Her family (that's family, not pets. Keep that in mind.) is usually kept happy and healthy.
She'll be giving me a permanent home. Mihn avoids abandoning pets. She says it makes her feel like scum. That's her word for it, too. Scum. So I can assure you I'll be staying with her for a long, long time.
Mihn has nothing to do with her life. That sounds horrible, doesn't it? Allow me to elaborate, just a moment. She's got schoolwork and in recent months she's been looking in to things to do with her life, but as of now she's doing nothing to further society. If she's not on the computer she's sleeping, reading, or at school. Her freetime, which is most of her life, is spent drawing, writing, roleplaying, and doing useless things with her characters. Suffice to say her family gets a fair amount of exercise keeping up with her every whim. Her family is fully worked out, and apparently by the end of the year (if I do live with her, that is…) I will be the same-- mapped out perfectly and entirely.
[He looked at Mihn for clarification, and then shrugged.]
I thought I had more than that. What else can I say? She's creative, she's dedicated, she loves her characters more than anything else in the world, and she's extraordinarily melodramatic. Three out of four of those are positive traits. The other one is just a fact.

My future

We've talked about this. We've had a plan for a while. We know when I'll be moving in with the rest of her family, I've met my siblings (more importantly I know who to avoid), and we've discussed how I'll be earning my keep.
[He'd sounded extremely bored, but now he grinned and laughed easily. He gave Mihn a teasing grin, punching her lightly on the shoulder.]
Earn my keep." Like she could possibly kick me out. She is entirely useless without me. Anyway, these are some of the plans for my future that you would care about.
A proper petpage. This is always high on Mihn's priority list. She likes having these things set up, easy to display, easy to brag about. A petpage for her means either two weeks of dull work or three days of constant work followed by a two day nap. Lots of art, writing, and adoptable-making goes into pages, as I'm sure you're aware. Usually Mihn would have one finished before she submitted an app, but this one was done on short notice, so she decided just to deck out the application itself as much as possible instead of wasting time on other things.
If you want to see some of Mihn's completed petpages:


Beauty contest. …You're snickering. It's the name, isn't it? Beauty contest sounds very feminine. Well you know what? I'm extremely attractive, and you should remember that. I think I have a shot. Mihn, really, just likes advertising. At least for the first day. Then she doesn't like advertising, it gets boring, and she falls asleep. She has an amazing attention span, for the record. Really, though. Mihn would like me to receive her first gold-trophy. (In the past she's only gotten one silver for a very bad picture of her usul.)
Roleplay. I'm sure she's mentioned it before, but Mihn is an avid roleplayer. She is also insanely and childishly cautious, so as of late her roleplays have been restricted to close friends. She's trying to talk to people she doesn't know, now, though. So she will definitely be roleplaying with me.
Art. If you didn't get the hint earlier, Mihn wanted you to check out her DA. (That's Mihneis.deviantart.com) She pretends to be modest about her art, but she'll let you look at it as long as you're a stranger. If you'll look at her gallery, it's pretty clear that "Whaaaaaa they're all neopets." Yes, that's right. Mihn only draws Neopets. I will definitely be no exception.
Customization (a pretend plan). Mihn hates customization. She detests it. With all her heart. She was around before the whole site was converted, and she will tell you in no uncertain terms that those were the good old days. She doesn't mind the pets now, of course, or the page set up, but for some reason customization still intimidates her. She'll get me a spiffy background, maybe a sweater since I have a definite love for them. But otherwise I won't be customized much.
Placement. Ah, yes. I will be sent immediately to Mihn's main account. When Mihn takes me home, I will be staying on Mihneis. I can be sent to her account as soon as you'd like me to be. (Counting on the fact that you decide Mihn would be a good owner.)

Dinner

I told you about Dinner. He's my gobbler. He's a poor, sad old thing, going on ten years old by now. He doesn't do much. When he was younger he used to strut around the house like a peacock, fly, run, and make a general mess of things. But now he just sits patiently on my bed in a nest of blankets, and when I go to sleep he roosts on my head. He's very well behaved. And housebroken, may I add?
He's kind of skittish, but he can't be bothered to run so he just fluffs up his feathers. If you scare him enough, though, stomp around, throw a plate at him, he'll burrow into his blankets and cower. This could be labeled as either pathetic or adorable, but I'm not sure which.
[He says it warmly, and you can picture the youth in front of a desk, reading peacefully with a gobbler snoozing contentedly on his head. You smile at the thought. Tax continues, and you notice again how he talks with his hands, too, motioning about.]
I found Dinner as an egg. My brother-- well, my friend, I should say-- we were looking for his puppyblew. That dog was stupid as anything, and we found it nosing around a nest. The mother gobbler was scuffling around about five yards away, and…well, I was eleven, I didn't really think. The two of us leashed the puppyblew, and we started to head out when we happened to look at the nest and-- well there were a bunch of little hatchlings, tweeting their heads off, and then one little egg that hadn't hatched. I picked up the egg and pocketed it, to the protesting shrieks of the mother. We walked away, the mother cawing behind us, preoccupied with her chicks by now.
Dinner hatched four days later. He was a little, tiny thing. He looked like he'd been dragged behind a car, but he was making so much noise.
[He laughed, leaning back in his chair so it wobbled dangerously on two legs.]
He's been with me for just about ever, and I don't intend on letting him go any time soon. Just remember that.
[At that moment, his chair tilted too far back and he was left sprawled on the ground, blinking.]

That's about it.

[Mihn laughed out loud, watching Tax scratch the back of his head in confusion as he tried to figure out what he'd just done wrong. She grinned, shaking her head, and then took over speaking where he'd left off.]
Well, thanks for reading, and hopefully loving, my application. I had a lot of fun with it, and I hope you liked reading it. I really hope you'll consider letting me take Tax home.
I know you don't want to hear it again, but I really do love Tax, no matter how much of a loudmouth he is. (And he is, just for the record.)
[She shot Tax what was clearly supposed to be a stern look, but she ended up giggling instead of reprimanding him. He offered her a smile in return, then righted his chair.]
So, once again, thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you choose the best owner for Tax… really, that means I hope you choose me, but I do hope he goes to a capable home. I wish you the best of luck in adopting out your pets, and now I say good day to you.
[With that she stood, smiled, and bowed. She proceeed to gather up her coat and book, nudge Tax gently, letting him know the two of them were leaving, and exit the store. As they left, Tax called "Bye! See you later!" over his shoulder, and then hurried out behind the human.]

You considered the last of your cookie for a moment before shrugging and abandoning it. With a shake of your head, you stood, grabbed your book, and followed the pair out the door.