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Describe yourself doing anything. Drinking tea, writing a book, destroying worlds, etc. Actually, scratch that, I'll reserve destroying worlds for End. 

Your short paragraph about your CYS persona can be anything. Go crazy with it. ^-^

Awww. Okay, mizal. 

With a lunch like that, it goes without saying.

Briar picked up the cup of tea, breathed in the soothing aroma and slowly brought it to her lips. "Oh, fuck!" she cursed. Once again, she had managed to burn her tongue. Holy fucking, shit that stung. Why did she never learn her lesson? No doubt the pain would continue to plague her till the end of the week as a cruel reminder that hot drinks did not agree with her. "Why the hell am I even drinking tea?" she wondered aloud. "I don't even like tea!"

Briar poured the tea away. She made herself a hot chocolate instead... The hot chocolate also burned her tongue.

F

Kuri stared bleary-eyed. Did the computer seem more pixelated  than usual? So many colors! The world was getting woozy. "Maybe I shouldn't stay up until 2am writing," she thought. "It's probably not good for my health." Her chair rocked back and forth, which was annoying since it wasn't a rocking chair. "I could read some stories, but all the letters are swimming." Her head hit the keyty6ytyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy..........

Absolutely no idea who you are, but that first page of your story looks pretty promising. Hope you're able to keep at it and add more.

Jesus Christ, are you okay??

Nothing a little sleep and a glass of water couldn't solve. :)

Phew, I thought you died. 

Solving a difficult problem.

He sat on a desk facing the whiteboard. Tossing a purple marker in his hand, in a rythm that came from experienced habit: a toss and twirl - alternating between one and two rotations of the marker while in the air. If he concentrated, he could feel how much ink was left in the marker and wether it would write clear lines or semi-faded lines. But now was not the time. He stood up straight now, putting the marker in his back pocket and his thumbs just at his belt loops. Letting out a sigh, his lips pursed and so followed his most concentrated and focused position for thought: a loose right fist with his thumb braced under the chin and left arm across the stomach which held the elbow that ultimately supported his heavy thinking. It was as though he went to kiss a ring but found only a phalange some small amount of skin away from his lips. The room went silent, perhaps not literally, but to him. He spent only a few seconds looking at the diagram on the board before closing his eyes and furrowing his brow. Eventually his forehead reached a limit to its discomfort and his brow began to sore. His thoughts were pure now.

There was no noise to distract him, his brain would not allow it. Breaking such a concentration could not be done easily and so the thoughts grew deeper. Connections were made from anywhere in any subject. Everything from wild ideas to simple methods were considered at length, and dots began to connect. If this, then that, thus this, used here, because of that, and what's given, to this end - a solution became clear and the world opened up again. As fast as he could open his eyes his hand reached for the marker and he saw the path to an answer as clearly as the solid dark purple marked the smooth white surface of the board.