In this event, you explain your character's story to me, and I create what I think they look like based on your words. So choose your words wisely! Please either explain your character's backstory, or you can write up a little slice of life of how the character is living currently. Capture their personality! This is what I am calling a "blind" semi-custom. No references are allowed. Adults only, regular of familiar. You will have the option to clarify a few points about your SoA's description. All entries must be 500 words or less! Yes, these will be edited. You will not get a WIP; only the completed image. One entry will be CC'd, and one will be rolled. No proxies, no mules, and you may not rehome this SoA for six months after completion. If any of these rules are broken, or you alter the form in any way, you will be disqualified. Please note that this ends after FE: Three Houses comes out, so there will be a long lead time until completion...... #bluelions!!!! New! You may tweak and edit your form until the contest is over; I will be locking the thread to review entries. It is only then will I be reviewing forms for potential disqualification.
Again, do not use all 500 words to explain what they look like. I want to know who they are. Do they have any hobbies? Is there something they fear? What have they survived to make it this far in their life? Have they betrayed someone in their past? Is everyone they love alive?? What do they hope their future holds??? Think of it as character exploration; go beyond what you normally do!
[b]SoA Species:[/b] [b]Mane Body Color:[/b] (pick one, no hex codes) [b]Mane Hair/Tail Color:[/b] (pick one, no hex codes)
[b]Their Story:[/b]
If you have any questions, please quote me in this thread. I will get back to you as soon as I am able.
Posted: Thu Jul 11, 2019 11:16 pm
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: Aged Rose Gold, almost vintage-y Mane Hair/Tail Color: Bright Copper
Their Story:
He had been a fantastic being once. Loyal to his pride leader, always doing what he thought was the right thing and being praised for it. So when he was offered the important job to escort his highness' eldest daughter to an arranged marriage within another pride, he had leaped for the job, the most trusted of 4 lions sent to see her path was undisturbed and quick of pace. What he hadn't accounted for, however, was the storm. An icy sleet and hail that would throw them all off course and drag them into the pits of an icy cavern from which there was no escape until the weather warmed. One of the guards would be first to succumb to his hunger and collapse, and the true test began among the rest of them: Would they starve in the same fashion, or risk madness by devouring their own? One by one, they caved to temptation to survive only to fall, until only he and his princess remained. They were horrified by what they had done, and yet rapped they remained, unable to process the idea that they would die here. He stepped up to her then and bowed his head, begging for her to take his life so that she could continue on when the remains of the others had been picked clean, and she refused over and over again. They both grew weaker, and still she refused his offer of sacrifice in her honor. Until she fell. He had done all he could, but that fateful morning he had barely opened his eyes and she refused to move again, his heart wrenching at the sight and his mind shattering. Little did they know that just beyond the trap, help was on the way. The loyal guard would be discovered with blood staining his face, and a shattered mind from the experience. He attacked his own rescuers, only having a moment of clarity when faced with former friends covered in gaping wounds from his claws. He ran. He ran far, as far as he could, until madness returned to him, and the lion he once was no longer remained within him. Now he wanders aimlessly, ever hungry for the forbidden feast and no longer caring who it should come from, only that it was an insatiable appetite. He could have clarity again, if only faced with something willing to take the risk to find it in his broken soul.
SoA Species: Lioness Mane Body Color: red-gold (firey tones) Mane Hair/Tail Color: dark bronzish brown
Their Story: Her mother liked to tell her that she was born not of the womb but of a love affair between the southern wind and a roaring flame. Inima’focului she was called, Heart of the fire, and never was a name more apt. She grew up sheltered and beloved of her family, who saw no reason to try and curb the fire within the young female. Adulthood saw her ready to face the world fierce and bold, unafraid for as all young things her heart had yet to be tested. She left the safety of her pride behind to seek what the wide world held, confident that she would be a match for any obstacle she could ever face.
But fires can not burn forever, and it was the same for Inima. Drawn by tales of her beauty (and her wild nature), many came to try and tame her. Some with honeyed words and heavy paws, some that never bothered trying to hide their claws. Her sheltered life, one filled with assurances that she was the strongest and most cunning, had ill-prepared her for the harsh cruelties of the real world and now the once bright flame has dimmed. Perhaps though...there is still a flicker of light amongst the coals? (WC: 211, edit forgot a word!)
Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 6:43 am
SoA Species: CC (preferably not a familiar, but go with what muse hits!) Mane Body Color: Red Mane Hair/Tail Color: Gold
Their Story:
A low growl rumbled in the predator’s throat. A smaller creature had gotten far too close to his personal hoard of random items, things he considered treasures no other could touch without permission. Tail flicking in agitation the creature rushes off, leaving him to let out a long drawn out sigh as his muscles relaxed. He didn’t enjoy being so attached to the various things, old human things, pretty stones, cloth he thought could be made into some form of scarf or something useful. He’d always been this way, even as a cub he would get a hold of something and hoard it as if it was a precious gem. It came from how he’d lost his family, that trauma manifested in surrounding himself in material possessions. If given the option he’d do the same with a mate or group, shower them with affection, give the very best of anything, yet guard them off from strangers he deemed unworthy. His temper could flare so easily, something a bit unstable yet deep down inside the scarred shell rested a big well-meaning heart. He wasn’t exactly huge in build but it was enough combined with the low rumbly voice he was born with to intimidate others, not needing to fight that much. Surely he could, he had and bore the scars but something was more satisfying, as if the command made him feel some weird sort of respect. That’s what he wanted, that and maybe love...
Who would want to be around someone like him though? Thoughts like these ran through the male’s mind often, muddling it with anxiety to match the slight flares of paranoia. “Eh-“ He’d chuff softly while nosing through a particular pile of special looking items. Settling on the soft ground he pulled what looked to be some sort of necklace, an items for the neck at least.
A few items came from his cubhood, this one formerly belonging to his father. Likewise he nudged a cloth over his paw gingerly, part of some form of clothing belonging to his mother. Some of these things he’d hoard, they truly did have a very special meaning. A small soft smile tugged at his maw then as he recalled how many things he’d crafted to try and make the things his mother did. She’d been a crafter and so he took to it at a young age, still making trinkets in his alone time. It helped bring on deep calming thought, grounded his troubled mind.
Finally he’d put the precious items away, nudging them to the very back of the cave he’d found a while ago. He does the same for everything, then double and triple checks nothing is peeling from beneath the grass and fur coverings like something had to draw the creature over before.
“Good.” With that he left to go hunt, mind in a slight turmoil as is his norm.
SoA Species: Lioness Mane Body Color: Black Mane Hair/Tail Color: Red
Their Story:
She was born out of love. She lived like a princess. Her family was well-known and well-liked and she never wanted for anything. With a wise, patient father and a doting, empathic mother, she learned of both efficiency and compassion; as well as how to vacillate effortlessly between them. She was brighter than most, quicker too, and some thought of her as a prodigy.
But she was bored.
So when a murder rattled the pride to its core, it was no surprise to find her there. Ever present. Poking her nose around in the mystery of it all. It didn't take her long to become swept up in the efforts of sleuthing. She was a natural. And the pride, inexperienced, left her to it. Her parents fretted over the dangers this implicated but kept remarkably quiet.
They would be remiss to dampen her excitement.
After whispers found her, she found the perpetrators. They confessed to being two cogs of many. Simple initiates looking to join a complex 'family'. The pride was repulsed by the thought, but she was intrigued. More curiosities worthy of her investigation. As a rushed trial was put together and the pair waited for their sentence, she approached them in secret.
The following day all three would go missing. The pride, overwhelmed by loss, would go on to grieve over the beloved daughter kidnapped by savages. Likely killed. In time their fears would fade. Their memories, too. Until one day the prodigal daughter would return to finish what the others, her brothers, had started.
And for a long while after she would reside under the watchful eyes of her new family. Taking rank as a spy. Learning of their ways. Mastering them. So that when the time came for her to branch out on her own, she would be ready.
Assimilation was easy. After all, she knew what compassion looked like and how to leverage her popularity with the greatest efficiency.
(WC: 324)
Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 8:35 am
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: Black (or CC!) Mane Hair/Tail Color: Black (or CC! I'd rather CC bc I'm uninspired but if I have to pick a color I'm going boring...)
Their Story:
He had a wonderful home life. He was a happy and jovial lion, and he shared his rogue experience with a lovely lioness to whom he'd dedicated the last few years of his life. They were in love, and it felt like an absolute miracle when they realized she was finally with child.
It was blissful and the next moons passed quickly as they monitored the size of her tummy. It didn't get as big as he'd seen his own sisters', so he figured it was a small litter, but a litter of their own nonetheless was beyond exciting.
When the time came and she entered into labor, it was evident from the beginning that things weren't going to go well. His mate seemed to be having an excruciating time with it, and when the first cub was delivered stillborn, something within the lioness cracked. She could no longer handle the pain she was experiencing, and as the second cub left her, so did her soul.
The second cub, like the first, was mysteriously and terribly stillborn. He was wracked with pain and grief, losing not just his mate but the two creatures that they'd managed to make together. And so he went on to roam the roguelands, desperate to find meaning in a life that seemed to cease to have one.
(WC: 222)
RuIerr
Devoted Cultist
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Eos Galvus
Shadowy Celebrant
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Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 9:16 am
SoA Species: Lioness Mane Body Color: Light silver Mane Hair/Tail Color: Lavender
Their Story:
She didn't forget of course.
Their last acts hauinted her memory from that day, and only the crystals she collected soothed her for a long time. She had been a cub then, collecting crystals as her family -- her parents - hunted. Her siblings all remained in the den, but she had heard the crystals singing to her, in dreams, in the day to day. What she had found following the song was a pretty peice of Rose Quartz, her first stone -- but it cost her dearly. Her parents had returned to find her missing -- when they found her, her travel down was stopped by a sudden rockslide -- caused perhaps by removing her new crystal, and crushing the lady's parents. And this was her first tragedy. She survived with her siblings, each slowly leaving as adolescents to find prides, families -- one was stolen as a cub shortly after and was sought -- and she remained, learning.
She followed the song of the rose quartz crystal thern, wearing the treasure from the day her parents died to help soothe her battered heart. As she walked, she found more crystals -- the soft blue and gold of lapis lazuli, a sturdy amethyst, even a lovely amber and citrine, and so many more. She wore then, all in a pouch, bar her favorites, worn as a delicate trophy. She was a tender soul whom learned to heal from the songs, unsure why none heard them but her.
She came upon a family with an ill cub in her travels, though. This too, she remembered. The crystals alone would do nothing. In repayment for food and shelter, the roaming healer gathered medicinal herbs and gifted them to the cub in a tea. The tea gave the weak cub strength, and when they healed, she began to collect herbs as well, wearing them as flowers, carrying them in case there was need. She roamed, following the crystal songs, never quite sure when they might guide her to a home. Still, the lioness was garnering notice. Whispers of the ephemeral beauty of a magic healer preceeded her and the gratitude of those she treated -- those she could save -- followed her.
But there was those she couldn't save. Her parents. The old, many infirm, those too far gone -- she couldn't save everyone. And those she never forgot as she travelled, seeking a place the songs called her home.
WC: 397
EDIT: Edited to make the story clearer and get a word count. Don't sweat gender, I was listening to a bit much fantasy/chillwave thinking of the idea
Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 9:25 am
SoA Species: Lion, leopard or chettah Mane Body Color: Light blue Mane Hair/Tail Color: Light rainbow
Their Story:
Hotaru is a creative soul, she travels the rogue lands searching for strange things left behind after the strange weather that happened. She loves to collect scraps of fabric any color she can find to fashion into things like skirts and neck wraps. She has never been much of a morning person, so she mostly does her searching in the evening and late into the night. Since she loves all colors it doesn't really matter to her if she can't see the colors clearly when she collects them. She enjoys the surprise of discovering what she collected the next afternoon.
She also loves music, if she can find a gourd or a rusty old can and some dried seeds, beans, rusty nuts or bolts, she will gladly fashion a musical instrument out of whatever she can find. She has always wanted to find a nice place in the rouge lands where she could host a hangout place for any species. A neutral space where creatures can come and dance, hang out, chat.
Hotaru lost her family when she was an adolescent but she doesn't let that get her down, she understands that the rogue land is a rough place to live sometimes which is why she wants to enjoy life to it's fullest. She wants to make it so others can have fun as well. Hotaru doesn't have much she fears, she isn't a fan of bugs except for fireflies which she thinks are beautiful little flying stars.
248 words
MiddyGlow
Sparkly Fairy
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SilverLutz Crew
Offensive Hero
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Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 7:34 pm
SoA Species: Wild dog Mane Body Color: Lilac Mane Hair/Tail Color: Marigold
Their Story: A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
Collecting was something they did in their spare time, really. It was a hobby, they would say. A way to pass the time. Whatever caught their fancy at the moment would be picked up and taken back to their den, a spot would be found, and it would have a new home among the other bits and baubles they had collected over the years. A bit of bone here, a shiny rock there, over there a pretty feather, on the floor a scrap of fabric. A tooth, a patch of fur, a leaf with the colors of the savanna sunrise on it, a hollowed out gourd.
It had been getting harder to find things over the past year or so. They never roamed out of their territory and as more time passed there were less and less things to collect. They heard whispers among the birds and herds of a cursed land where no one who entered was ever found again. Of a demon who feasted upon the souls of all who entered its land and left nothing behind, not even bones.
They'd have to keep an eye out for this demon, they thought as they stripped the fresh carcass of its shiny tail cuff, sliding it over their front paw to admire the way the sun caught in the metal, the splashes of blood inconsequential. A quick wash would take care of that. Turning back to the body, they lowered their head to grab the cheetah's hind leg, dragging the rest of their prize back to their den.
It was harder to find things to collect lately. Really would need to watch out for that demon.
Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2019 8:52 pm
SoA Species: Hyena Mane Body Color: CC Mane Hair/Tail Color: CC
Their Story: She doesn't remember.
She woke with the midday sun beating mercilessly down on her. She was emaciated, dehydrated, and covered in wounds that were almost healed with dried blood matting her fur. Her pain was unimaginable. She had no idea who she was, what had happened to her or how long she had been unconscious. She didn't even know her own name.
Fast forward a year. She is back to a healthy weight, her wounds have healed to scars marring her body and face, and she still has no recollection of her past. Occasionally, most often in dreams, she gets snippets of what might be her old life - the scent of milk and the black memory of a blind pup wriggling against its mother and siblings; the first hunt of young sisters; a vicious snarl and a flash of fangs and claws.
Still, she maintains her happiness. She wanders the rogue lands collecting stories and pasts, and any items that hold such things. Not having her own story to tell has made her a little obsessed with the stories of others.
She still can't remember her name; she tends to use a different one as often as the whim strikes her, or whenever she thinks of a pretty one. It's likely that no two creatures she's met since her coma has gotten the same name from her, but the one name she always goes back to is Oraphima. The reason for her attachment to it is unclear, but she likes to pretend it is her real name, if only for her own comfort.
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: Dark Grey?(Or CC) Mane Hair/Tail Color: Black? (Or CC)
Their Story:
Once an exceptionally hyperactive, egotistical, immature boy with a mouth that seemed to never stop running, he could hardly be recognizable now.
Although his anger issues have remained a constant in his life, he is extremely quiet and reserved most of the time. Long-repressed doubts and worries alongside mounting self esteem issues have culminated in him being a very depressed young man.
Absolutely refusing to talk about his problems to anyone unless he's absolutely sure it won't make it's way back to any of his family members, he otherwise keeps on a mask to try and seem the same egotistical b*****d he knows others want to see him as. This does lead to bottling up emotions until he explodes with frustration, anger and hatred, usually in itself leading to physical altercations with the wrong people. and he has the scars now to show it.
Still, he tends to make assumptions about people pretty quick, so that usually makes him look like either an idiot or an a*****e. As well, he won’t ever really apologize for offending someone unless he thinks they deserve it.
He has absolutely no time for anything even remotely romantic. Balking at the very thought of ‘love’, he has some very deep-seated issues that cause him to react violently when he gets a whiff of anyone close to him seeming to head into a romantic relationship elsewhere. This may or may not come from his father disappearing on him and his mother one day with no warning after he watched them together.
Fortunately, he does have good qualities about him brought on by meeting others. Such as, he's exceptionally good at telling when people are uncomfortable, and while he has issues with knowing when he, himself, needs to Stop, he is always willing to step in when someone else is making someone uncomfortable.
Happiness with come. He will rise from his dark pit. Only time and his journey ahead will tell.
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2019 9:47 am
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: Off-white Mane Hair/Tail Color: Soft, glowy light pink
Their Story:
His world used to be centered around momma. She said he was her little boy, her little doll, and he should never, ever leave because what would she do without him? And he did, because he was a good boy and good boys did what they’re told. He used to question why he did things, but she would yell if he pried too much, and sometimes leave him in a hole for a day or two, and that was never fun.
She did so love how sweet he was too. He got good at his pouty mouth, knew how to make his eyes all big and wide, nurtured his voice to be high and inquisitive and clueless - and at the end of the day, that really was how he’d become. He loved the coos he’d get in response, and people liked to give him gifts when he did. He oh so loved gifts!
Sometimes there were people she didn’t like, or someone would come to her and ask for “requests”. Either way, it ended the same. His momma always told him he had the face of innocence.... and no one ever suspected someone like that. He was very good at making people disappear. They were probably bad people anyway, he reasoned. They didn’t deserve to still be moving.
His momma didn’t though, and he didn’t know what to do now that she’d stopped moving. He’d come back and found her like this, and now he didn’t know what to do!
He missed the way she would fuss over him, and feed him, and pet his mane into the strangest of ways. He tried to replicate what she’d do, but he had never been very good at it. He tried to keep things organized still but everything was falling apart.
Yet the “requests” still kept coming, and there was one good thing about that: He oh so loved gifts - especially the sparkly, shiny ones! -and everyone was always so eager to give him these things if he did the job. He didn’t care much for what the job was, or how the ones he killed felt about it. Just as long as he got his shiny things!
And maybe if the shinies glowed enough in the sun, his momma would decide to move again. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to make her stop, but the shinies were so pretty and they made him so happy, so why wouldn’t they do that to her too? He just needed to find a good enough one!
In the meantime though, he would keep up with what his momma had taught him. He was a good boy after all.
WC: 447
MangoMeow
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Vashtya
Tipsy Hoarder
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2019 2:18 pm
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: CC Mane Hair/Tail Color: CC
Their Story: His childhood was unremarkable, save, perhaps, for an inherent clumsiness that had him tripping over his own limbs, or getting silky fur tangled in sticker bushes. The clumsiness might not have been so apparent if it hadn't been paired with an energetic stubbornness that pushed him into more than his share of scrapes. His mother, prone to fussing over the almost constant stream of bumps and bruises, had finally hit upon telling almost-forgotten stories from her own cubhood to get him to sit still for any length of time. Immediately, he'd been fascinated by the stories of heroism and adventure, and it had led him to leave his stable, tame childhood behind and seek it out before his mane had even fully grown in.
Protective and more than a little naive, he'd wandered aimlessly, his personal code often dragging him into everything from petty squabbles to more aggressive encounters, these events often followed by the sharing of a den for a few days (sometimes, recovery was needed, by either himself or the other being), where he almost always found an excuse to exchange stories before parting ways.
As he'd come into adulthood, he'd grown into himself, clumsiness becoming a gracefulness that drew attention, and naivete had given way to experience. However, he'd never outgrown his sense of chivalry, or been able to resist the draw of a well-told tale...and when he was able to share the stories he'd collected with an audience, he seemed to become larger-than-life; with a voice that invited a listener to lose all sense of time, a sense of wonder wrapped around a firm belief that anyone is capable of amazing, miraculous things.
It had been remarked that he rather looked like a hero out of one of his stories; mysterious and regal, with a tall, rangy build that didn't disguise the fact that he'd had to rely on his own strength often in his travels. His mane and tail were silky and full, longer than most, with curls waving gently in the breeze, as if to beckon one closer. Intricate whorls decorated his pelt, as if his fantastic tales had a magic of their own, and had marked him; as if he'd dived head-first into one of the stories he spun, and they clung to his fur like delicate golden gilt. His eyes, burnished like long-lost treasure, seemed to sparkle with enthusiasm, enticing one to tumble into fantasy...
(WC: 405)
Posted: Thu Jul 18, 2019 11:11 pm
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: CC Mane Hair/Tail Color: CC
Their Story: The cub is born, pale and sickly and weak. There is no angry yowling; just damning silence. The mother tries to groom life into them - the only cub that had been in her belly - and eventually the whisper of a breath finally passes tiny pink lips. But the cub's suckling is weak, and eventually the mother has no choice but to abandon them to survive on their own.
They are small and they are frightened. They don't know how to hunt, so out of desperation they turn to scavenging what little scraps they can. They survive. Against all odds, they pick at carrion alongside the vultures and survive.
And so they grew, frail and lanky at first. Until the carrion grew scarce and hunting their own prey became necessary. They learned to hunt through trial and error, through escaped hairs and the sharp hooves of antelope slicing at tender flesh. Until they could hunt on their own. Until they could fill their belly with fresh meat, could give their body the fuel it needed to fill out and grow properly. They would never be fat, but they did manage to grow to an impressive size, solid muscle and a thick frame to make taking down prey easier.
They learned to fight eventually, to lever their massive bulk against smaller opponents to overwhelm or to slip by larger foes to gain the advantage.
When the heavens began to fall apart, they retreated from the open savanna to the safety of the forests, using their pale fur to blend into mists and remain unseen. Soon, whispers began to follow them. It was said that forest was haunted by some sort of ghost, a massive thing that devoured all that dared cross its path. Some said you could hear the rattling bones of the fallen when the ghost began to approach. Flee, they would whisper. If you hear the rattling of bones deep in the mists of the forest, flee before the vengeful ghosts take you as well.
It was all nonsense, of course. The long ago abandoned lion ate proper prey, like the deep red bongos who wandered the forest under the cover of night. They weren't safe from the lion, who admired their colorful pelts and kept a collection of them in their den. Those pelts weren't for wearing, of course. Too dark. Too difficult to blend into the mists with. And they wouldn't leave the mists, because the mists had proven to be safe. The anger of the heavens had not reached them there, and so long as they remained, the anger of the heavens couldn't.
It was perhaps a bit superstitious, but it made sense to them. Nothing but struggle had come from the savanna, and the mists had treated them with a kindness not even their mother had.
The mists were home. Why would they ever leave?
[Word Count: 492]
Kitsune Mistress Nyoko
Shameless Elocutionist
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Baneful
Dramatic Hunter
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Posted: Sat Jul 20, 2019 6:02 pm
SoA Species: Lion Mane Body Color: Any monochrome Mane Hair/Tail Color: Any colour Their Story:
His pride were once lords and ladies of the highest order, wonderfully powerful and in an oasis of a jungle, lush, verdant and beautiful. And they were happy, so happy. Now it felt like a distant dream, a story far off he tried not to think too hard about in case the pain was too much to bear.
He hated gods more than anything. It had been a god who'd come to the Unspeakables, the outcasts on the edge of the lands, and the god of war had fed them stories of a better world, of an oasis which could be theirs if they only followed him. They'd never stood a chance against it all, and once the fighting started, the god would come to their people too, feeding them the same lies, fuelling the fire. They didn't know until a lot later what had been going on, but by then everyone was dead and the oasis was destroyed.
He remembered luxury, he remembered bliss, where the focus had been education and learning, the arts and personal growth, but it all had been taken from him, leaving nothing in the end but a lion who'd been through the literal wars, his once pristine fur criss crossed by scars and his demeanour a bitter shadow of the once positively genteel lion he'd been. He'd learned to survive and learned to cope with loss, and he'd endured solely because he intended somehow and in some way to exact revenge upon those gods and goddesses who played games with the lives of mortals and used them for nothing better than sport.
He'd come to the rogue lands, aware that there was no way he could do any of it alone, aware that in order to make any difference that he'd need to find allies, that he'd need to draw fellow lions to his rather atheistic cause. There was nothing good came from gods, and nothing good came from wars, they needed to learn to support one another as fellow lions and not succumb so easily to baser elements of their nature,
His body might have been a shadow of what it once had been, but his will had never been made of stronger stuff.
