[b]@PuffyRuffy
Oh, the sense of anticipation of your story is superb!! And such detail--well done! Tickets & entry recorded!
[img]http://www.auplod.com/u/dlupoa9d969.gif[/img] Thank you & Happy Starfall!![/b]
[color=FE2EC8][u][b]Oh, and by the way, thank you for putting the promo badge in your signature! While you should have pinged AstralKepeire for the promo badge in your sig to get the promo tickets, I'm going to enter them anyway and use this as an opportunity to remind everyone to ping @AstralKepeire to ensure you get your promo tix![/u][/b][/color]
@PuffyRuffy
Oh, the sense of anticipation of your story is superb!! And such detail--well done! Tickets & entry recorded!
Thank you & Happy Starfall!!
Oh, and by the way, thank you for putting the promo badge in your signature! While you should have pinged AstralKepeire for the promo badge in your sig to get the promo tickets, I'm going to enter them anyway and use this as an opportunity to remind everyone to ping @AstralKepeire to ensure you get your promo tix!
@GalaxyFilly @Samoqueen @depinvenom @Paradoxmagic @PuffyRuffy
[center][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/04475a4a7fa275d5727b22a8121fbaa2/tumblr_ovh1tmqVoF1vos03zo4_r1_250.gif[/img][/center]
[font=Verdana][size=5][b]For fairness' sake, I wanted to let you all know that the word cap for the stories has been doubled to 1200 words!
You can at any time (this goes for everyone) edit your stories, so long as your editing is complete before rollover on Saturday, Sept. 30.[/b][/size][/font]
@
GalaxyFilly @
Samoqueen @
depinvenom @
Paradoxmagic @
PuffyRuffy
For fairness' sake, I wanted to let you all know that the word cap for the stories has been doubled to 1200 words!
You can at any time (this goes for everyone) edit your stories, so long as your editing is complete before rollover on Saturday, Sept. 30.
Oooooh nice! I had to cut down my story because I was worried I would go over the word limit, and I probably did, but now that hopefully won't happen again. I'll keep my first story the same (I like the cliffhanger at the end, heh) though.
Oooooh nice! I had to cut down my story because I was worried I would go over the word limit, and I probably did, but now that hopefully won't happen again. I'll keep my first story the same (I like the cliffhanger at the end, heh) though.
Username: StormDragon21
User ID: 198529
Title (if applicable): Six Gods
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers): Weyrians have their own versions of the gods and creation myth. As such, this does not fit into lore.
Submission:
The gods' real names cannot be spoken.
There is too much power in them. Any being with a lifespan would not survive the power.
The gods use their true names with each other. But no mortal has lived to know or remember them.
There were six of them, emerging from nothing. The first is the dragon of light. They called him Seed, being the first to emerge and the creation of life. The second was the golem of earth. She was Terra, the land itself. Third and fourth were twins—Vulcan, fire-bird, and Bakun, water-snake. They emerged in battle, a war that has almost never stopped. The fifth was a fox, the spirit of air called Zephyr. The final to slink out was a dusky dragon, with horns like a ram's and feet like a frog's. She was known as Sombra.
Six gods, names unknown, began to shape the world.
Terra shaped the earth, pulling up mountains and pressing down valleys. Seed and Sombra were not far behind her. Seed's touch created plants, and Sombra's claws filled caverns in darkness. Bakun followed next, flooding the earth and filling the lowest parts with water. Not to be outdone by his twin, Vulcan filled the hollows of mountains with fire and set trails of it flowing down. Zephyr pacified the warring brothers by inviting them to create the weather with her, and together they formed a system of heat and cold, rain and shine. Finally, Seed went up past the land's domain and brought lights to the sky. Vulcan added his fiery heat, and the world was finished.
Username: StormDragon21
User ID: 198529
Title (if applicable): Six Gods
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers): Weyrians have their own versions of the gods and creation myth. As such, this does not fit into lore.
Submission:
The gods' real names cannot be spoken.
There is too much power in them. Any being with a lifespan would not survive the power.
The gods use their true names with each other. But no mortal has lived to know or remember them.
There were six of them, emerging from nothing. The first is the dragon of light. They called him Seed, being the first to emerge and the creation of life. The second was the golem of earth. She was Terra, the land itself. Third and fourth were twins—Vulcan, fire-bird, and Bakun, water-snake. They emerged in battle, a war that has almost never stopped. The fifth was a fox, the spirit of air called Zephyr. The final to slink out was a dusky dragon, with horns like a ram's and feet like a frog's. She was known as Sombra.
Six gods, names unknown, began to shape the world.
Terra shaped the earth, pulling up mountains and pressing down valleys. Seed and Sombra were not far behind her. Seed's touch created plants, and Sombra's claws filled caverns in darkness. Bakun followed next, flooding the earth and filling the lowest parts with water. Not to be outdone by his twin, Vulcan filled the hollows of mountains with fire and set trails of it flowing down. Zephyr pacified the warring brothers by inviting them to create the weather with her, and together they formed a system of heat and cold, rain and shine. Finally, Seed went up past the land's domain and brought lights to the sky. Vulcan added his fiery heat, and the world was finished.
[b]@StormDragon21
What a lovely creation story! Tickets & entry recorded![/b]
[img]http://www.auplod.com/u/ulpoda9d971.gif[/img]
@StormDragon21
What a lovely creation story! Tickets & entry recorded!
[img]http://www.auplod.com/u/auopdl9d957.png[/img]
Username: Acorn781
User ID: 299072
Title (if applicable): Nightfall
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers):
Submission:
Oh, the nerve of that guy! First, he knocked her down while he was landing. Next, he tripped over her tail, causing her to drop all her belongings. And finally, he had the audacity to try to make up for it by inviting her to a forest with supposedly glowing trees in the middle of nowhere.
Starwood sighed. How… how did she get herself into this mess? She was supposed to be meeting up with her friends at the Starfall Festival, not waiting for an idiotic dragon to show his face in a forest that seemed unreal.
The Tempest Spire… Oh, how Starwood longed to go back home. Home, where there were no flying monkeys passing by every few seconds. Home, where there were no random explosions from nowhere. Home, where everything could be explained by facts and numbers.
But, noooo. Her parents had to insist on her going to that stupid festival after her friends sent that postcard. Starwood had always considered herself an introverted dragon, and the Starfall Festival was not one of the ways Starwood wanted to spend her week.
She clawed impatiently at the ground. Where was that guy anyways? Starwood figured that if she came here to sightsee, she might as well she this magical (and most likely imaginary) strand of glowing trees.
A rustle in the bushes alerted Starwood of his presence. “Oh, thank goodness! There you are!” he cried. “Um, I looked for you all over the forest. What are you doing here? This isn’t where I told you to go! Here, it’s this way!” He gingerly took Starwood’s paw in his, and started to lead the way.
Starwood’s eyes widened and she yanked her paw away. She definitely did not want to be seen holding the paw of a stranger. “Do whatever you must… lead the way, but don’t touch me!” she glared daggers at the dragon. “Right… sorry!” he replied, and walked towards the forest.
They passed through miles of shrubbery, and there was still no glowing forest to be seen. “You know, if this is some sort of lame trick, I swear… I’ll have your guts.” Starwood threatened in a low voice. “Hey, wait, wait wait! We’re almost there! Just… a couple pawsteps more…” He reached a clearing of leaves. Brushing them aside, he introduced Starwood to the most beautiful sight she probably ever saw.
“Woah,” she whispered. Maybe this trip did pay off after all. “What is this place?” “It’s the Starwood Strand. The pride and joy of the Arcanites,” he whispered back. “It’s usually bustling with tourists, but they’re all busy at the festival. So, what better time is there to visit then now?”
Slowly, he reached up into a tree, and plucked a glowing leaf right off. He braided it carefully into her swirls, and smiled. “It’s such a nice night. And it’s even better to have you here besides me,” he said. He pointed up at the sky.
“Look! There’s Cygnus, the swan in the sky! Isn’t she beautiful… kinda like you?” he timidly pointed out. Too entranced to process what he just said, Starwood glanced up in the sky with amazement. Arcane was truly a beautiful flight… why didn’t she realize that before?
“Thanks,” she murmured. Together, they snuggled together, enjoying each other’s body warmth in the chilly night. The glowing leaves twinkled against the backdrop of hundreds of stars in the sky.
Username: Acorn781
User ID: 299072
Title (if applicable): Nightfall
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers):
Submission:
Oh, the nerve of that guy! First, he knocked her down while he was landing. Next, he tripped over her tail, causing her to drop all her belongings. And finally, he had the audacity to try to make up for it by inviting her to a forest with supposedly glowing trees in the middle of nowhere.
Starwood sighed. How… how did she get herself into this mess? She was supposed to be meeting up with her friends at the Starfall Festival, not waiting for an idiotic dragon to show his face in a forest that seemed unreal.
The Tempest Spire… Oh, how Starwood longed to go back home. Home, where there were no flying monkeys passing by every few seconds. Home, where there were no random explosions from nowhere. Home, where everything could be explained by facts and numbers.
But, noooo. Her parents had to insist on her going to that stupid festival after her friends sent that postcard. Starwood had always considered herself an introverted dragon, and the Starfall Festival was not one of the ways Starwood wanted to spend her week.
She clawed impatiently at the ground. Where was that guy anyways? Starwood figured that if she came here to sightsee, she might as well she this magical (and most likely imaginary) strand of glowing trees.
A rustle in the bushes alerted Starwood of his presence. “Oh, thank goodness! There you are!” he cried. “Um, I looked for you all over the forest. What are you doing here? This isn’t where I told you to go! Here, it’s this way!” He gingerly took Starwood’s paw in his, and started to lead the way.
Starwood’s eyes widened and she yanked her paw away. She definitely did not want to be seen holding the paw of a stranger. “Do whatever you must… lead the way, but don’t touch me!” she glared daggers at the dragon. “Right… sorry!” he replied, and walked towards the forest.
They passed through miles of shrubbery, and there was still no glowing forest to be seen. “You know, if this is some sort of lame trick, I swear… I’ll have your guts.” Starwood threatened in a low voice. “Hey, wait, wait wait! We’re almost there! Just… a couple pawsteps more…” He reached a clearing of leaves. Brushing them aside, he introduced Starwood to the most beautiful sight she probably ever saw.
“Woah,” she whispered. Maybe this trip did pay off after all. “What is this place?” “It’s the Starwood Strand. The pride and joy of the Arcanites,” he whispered back. “It’s usually bustling with tourists, but they’re all busy at the festival. So, what better time is there to visit then now?”
Slowly, he reached up into a tree, and plucked a glowing leaf right off. He braided it carefully into her swirls, and smiled. “It’s such a nice night. And it’s even better to have you here besides me,” he said. He pointed up at the sky.
“Look! There’s Cygnus, the swan in the sky! Isn’t she beautiful… kinda like you?” he timidly pointed out. Too entranced to process what he just said, Starwood glanced up in the sky with amazement. Arcane was truly a beautiful flight… why didn’t she realize that before?
“Thanks,” she murmured. Together, they snuggled together, enjoying each other’s body warmth in the chilly night. The glowing leaves twinkled against the backdrop of hundreds of stars in the sky.
[b]@Acorn781
That's such a sweet, romantic story! Tickets & entry recorded.
[img]http://www.auplod.com/u/dlupoa9d969.gif[/img] Thank you & Happy Starfall![/b]
@Acorn781
That's such a sweet, romantic story! Tickets & entry recorded.
Thank you & Happy Starfall!
[img]http://www.auplod.com/u/auopdl9d957.png[/img]
Username: riseandshine
User ID: 302715
Title (if applicable): Tapestry
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers):
Submission:
She is scared of the woods.
Of course she's scared of the woods. However lovely the leaves are, swaying in the breeze, it doesn't erase any of the stories she's heard. A place of genius. A place of madness.
Semplice is not here for genius or madness. But she's searching for something.
Something.
She picks leaves from the ground, spins their fibres into yarn, tries to find comfort in their beauty.
Every rustle makes her jump and every creak makes her flinch. Her Skydancer feet tread feather-light on the ground. There is not a soul around, and she can tell.
Antennae twitching, she forges on. The bundles of fabric on her back weigh her down ever heavier, until her tread snaps branches and crushes leaves. Still she moves.
She is lost.
Every path looks the same and no tree is a landmark. Semplice sits down under one, shaking.
She takes her fabric. There's a ball of yarn and a pair of needles. She picks them up and starts to knit and lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into quieting.
Why? she wants to ask the wood. Why? Why me? Why here? Why can't you let me out?
But that's silly, because places can't make decisions.
She wakes the next morning with her needles still in her hands and—
Oh.
The knitted fabric is starlight and the rustling of a thousand leaves.
Why, the wood tells her. Why, why, why.
There's only one thing to do.
Semplice gets back to work.
She brought a loom, just a little one that folds up, and she sets it up there and then. She has her thread and yarn. She gathers the leaves from the ground and spins out their fibres.
And she weaves and knits and stitches and folds, as she always did, as she always has, and lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into calming. She does not sleep. She is motion incarnate, and she has no need for such things.
As she creates she see the past, overlaid on her work. A knit for one daughter singing, a purl for another leaving. Threads crossing over for countless overheard conversations, for voices whispering in her ears. Tiny stitches for blood flowing over her weaver's hands, for the scroll of a message and sheer terror.
She lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into calming.
Semplice stumbles out of the woods in seven days with a veil folded upon her back.
Maybe in the end she was looking for a bit of genius, after all. Or maybe it was madness, or some of both. She can't tell, and it hardly matters. Her feet tread light upon the ground, and all around her are revellers telling their tales.
There are many ways to tell a story. Some weave air together in words and vibration, and some trail ink across paper, and some paint or sketch or put on masks and act out. Semplice spun her story out of glimmering leaves and inspiration.
She is still scared of the woods, but now she thinks she might love them, too.
She sells her wares, but the veil stays firmly folded on her back. It belongs to her.
Username: riseandshine
User ID: 302715
Title (if applicable): Tapestry
Special notes (if applicable - including triggers):
Submission:
She is scared of the woods.
Of course she's scared of the woods. However lovely the leaves are, swaying in the breeze, it doesn't erase any of the stories she's heard. A place of genius. A place of madness.
Semplice is not here for genius or madness. But she's searching for something.
Something.
She picks leaves from the ground, spins their fibres into yarn, tries to find comfort in their beauty.
Every rustle makes her jump and every creak makes her flinch. Her Skydancer feet tread feather-light on the ground. There is not a soul around, and she can tell.
Antennae twitching, she forges on. The bundles of fabric on her back weigh her down ever heavier, until her tread snaps branches and crushes leaves. Still she moves.
She is lost.
Every path looks the same and no tree is a landmark. Semplice sits down under one, shaking.
She takes her fabric. There's a ball of yarn and a pair of needles. She picks them up and starts to knit and lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into quieting.
Why? she wants to ask the wood. Why? Why me? Why here? Why can't you let me out?
But that's silly, because places can't make decisions.
She wakes the next morning with her needles still in her hands and—
Oh.
The knitted fabric is starlight and the rustling of a thousand leaves.
Why, the wood tells her. Why, why, why.
There's only one thing to do.
Semplice gets back to work.
She brought a loom, just a little one that folds up, and she sets it up there and then. She has her thread and yarn. She gathers the leaves from the ground and spins out their fibres.
And she weaves and knits and stitches and folds, as she always did, as she always has, and lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into calming. She does not sleep. She is motion incarnate, and she has no need for such things.
As she creates she see the past, overlaid on her work. A knit for one daughter singing, a purl for another leaving. Threads crossing over for countless overheard conversations, for voices whispering in her ears. Tiny stitches for blood flowing over her weaver's hands, for the scroll of a message and sheer terror.
She lets the steady motion lull her heartbeat into calming.
Semplice stumbles out of the woods in seven days with a veil folded upon her back.
Maybe in the end she was looking for a bit of genius, after all. Or maybe it was madness, or some of both. She can't tell, and it hardly matters. Her feet tread light upon the ground, and all around her are revellers telling their tales.
There are many ways to tell a story. Some weave air together in words and vibration, and some trail ink across paper, and some paint or sketch or put on masks and act out. Semplice spun her story out of glimmering leaves and inspiration.
She is still scared of the woods, but now she thinks she might love them, too.
She sells her wares, but the veil stays firmly folded on her back. It belongs to her.
