[G1 Sunstreaker]

Username: _Alex_
Name: Sergei
Gender: Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes: Male
Winning Form: click
Owned As Of: 10 JAN 2018

I was also given permission to put this dude up for readoption, as he was also disowned. P:



This competition will be something a little different. I would like you to first generate a number between one and thirty-one using random.org. Use the first one, no rerolls. Then, I want you to tell me about this viscet's experience on the corresponding date of December. What was their day like? What were they doing? Who did they interact with? You can tell me in any method you please--timeline, journal entry(-ies), third person story, etc.

It is important to note that this viscet must be kept biologically male, as it has been bred before. However, they may identify howsoever they please. All of its offspring are listed below.
B69
B93
B195


┈┈┈┈┈┈ Form

Code: Select all

[b]Username||[/b]
[b]Name||[/b]
[b]Gender||[/b]
[b]Gender for Breeding Purposes||[/b] Male
[b]Personality||[/b] [x150 max]
[b]Their Day on December [#]||[/b] [x600 max [u]OR[/u] x2 [u]OR[/u] x300 & x1]
[b]Extra||[/b] [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

┈┈┈┈┈┈ Rules

• Personality is min 50 words, max 150 words.
• December prompt is x600 words OR x2 art. You have the option to use one piece of artwork with 300 words. You may use one comic page with x300 words if you so desire.
• You are allowed 1 extra.
• Extra is optional, but encouraged. x250 words for writing, x1 piece for art. No comics allowed.
• Extras may not be added onto December prompt or personality.
• Prettying up is allowed!

┈┈┈┈┈┈ End Date

End date is currently January 6, 2359 EST.

[Kagome963]

Username|| Kagome963
Name||
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [#]|| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

WIP

[Lioashu]

Username|| humerussin
Name|| Kye
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male

Personality|| [x150 max]

Kye’s character is something that may be difficult for others to see at first. He’s reserved, in a good way - preferring to say as little as possible, but he’ll gladly chatter with those he’s become accustomed to. He’s positive and looks at things in a realistic way, preferring to take a neutral approach to things or threats. The last thing he’d want would be there to be war, as he’d find the reason pointless and destructive. Kye is much like his father Kindle in this way; firm in his ways, but reasonable towards conflict. He’d rather talk things out before any blood could be shed.

Kye also remains polite towards other viscets he meets. He was raised well, even if his parents parted somewhat early on in his life. He understands how life can be, and took matters into his own paws by finding his way.

Their Day on December [#]|| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]

December 21st, 4 PM

Making his way through the swelled village, Kye kept his eyes forward and calmly uttered “excuse me” and “pardon” whenever he accidentally bumped into anyone. He had tasks to do, and there was no time for side chatter or asking for directions. He’d heard about a viscet by the name of Alani in this part, who now is raising a daughter called Fizz. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he needed her help.

When Kye was younger, his parents split as they no longer got along and more and more issues were arising in their lives. It was his father who remained with him when his mother packed her things and left without remorse. Shortly after that, though, Kye realized he’d have to walk his own path in life; with a heavy heart, he left his father.

From almost the end of his childhood to present day, he was separated from his family and spending his time wandering the land for answers to common problems. It wasn’t until recently that he heard about his father living in a village becoming a little more known that he finally stopped searching. Kye has a chance to check in and make sure his father was okay after their rough past; and it was certainly not a chance he’d pass up. He packed his things - not that he had much anyway - and traveled there as soon as he possibly could. Once he arrived, he found Alani and found some time in her schedule to talk about his father.

It was confusing at first, for her to suddenly hear from a relative of Kindle’s. Kye didn’t really blame her for her distraught reaction at first, but eventually she understood the situation. After he explained everything, she offered to help. To Kye’s unfortunate surprise, Kindle lost a friend some time ago - or Alani’s father - and is currently having relapses of nightmares and even has a case of insomnia. He felt strong sympathy for his father’s situation, so he knew he wanted to get him something special for when he saw him again.


Kye and Alani strolled down the small market, eyes peering quickly over several different stands set up. Each one was adorned with different kinds of products, but a particular one seemed to catch his eye. Over on their right was one with small piles of thick fabric in various shades of color, but generally dark ones. Kye picked through a couple on the top before he held up a long dark cloak. “I’m not exactly sure what he likes today,” he muttered to Alani, “but I think he’ll like this. He’s always liked having coats and it’s been colder recently…” He looked to her for some form of approval, but she merely nodded. “Seeing you again will be enough anyways.”

After some mental preparation and more discussing with Alani, the duo finally arrived at Kindle’s home. Kye needed to see him alone, so once they were at the doorstep Alani set off for her own house. With one swift motion, he knocked on the door, and waited.

Roughly twenty seconds later, a familiar old face opened the door and began a greeting when he saw his son’s face. “Kye,” he breathed, visually processing the situation. Without hesitation the viscet rushed forward and embraced him. “I missed you - you’ve grown so much since I saw you last, son.” “I brought something for you,” Kye revealed the box he was holding behind his back. When Kindle opened up the gift, he hugged his son again and sobbed cheerfully.

“Thank you so much.”

Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

-- Work in progress

Credits
Kindle, Alani, and Fizz belong to me
Art by me

[maritime.]

Username|| D-Send
Name||
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [#]|11| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

[WolfWinter]

Username|| WolfWinter
Name||
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [26]|| The 26th of December, and the events of the previous day had taken a toll on the house. ___ Had invited friends and family over for gift exchanging, opening, and dinner. Today was cleaning day.
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

[_Alex_]

Username|| _Alex_
Name|| sergei
Gender|| male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality||

sergei can be described, first and foremost, and in no small exaggeration of the word, as a very composed individual. the generations upon generations of nobility and pure blood in his pedigree has lead to an inborn sense of regality and refinement, which when paired with his traditional upbringing -- which favored self-pride and confidence and most of all restraint -- has given him a predisposition to composure. this composure can be seen in nearly every aspect of his being when he conducts even the most menial of tasks, much less when he practices his craft. it is in the way his speech is soft but not weak, carefully thought through so as not to come across as crass to those who receive it. but most of all, it is in the way he practices his craft: with head held high, spine straight, and claws dancing across ivory keys -- beautiful, meticulous, composed.
{150/150}

Their Day on December [9]||

he starts his day at one, rising from his slumber at the first chime of the castle's bell, as he does every morning without fail. at one thirty, he takes his breakfast in the sitting room attached to his chambers, dressed in a robe of finest silk. by two fifteen, he's making his way down the long winding staircase from the eastern turret that has been called his and down to the grand hallway, meeting with his fellow coven members at it's base. already a crowd is forming at the far end of the hallway, nearest to where the main entrance to the grounds reside. together, he and his coven duck into a side door and out of site of the crowd. at two fifty, every member of his coven is dressed in their casting robes, the last chalk rune is being drawn, the last string tightened, he himself is settling onto his bench. at two fifty nine, the curtains are thrown open, revealing him and his coven to the gathered crowd. at three in the morning, at the beginning of the time known as the witching hour, he beings to play.

his song is rehearsed at first. the familiar comforting notes that open the ceremony, that reach out for the crowd and anyone else that might be listening. it's only after he can feel he's ensnared their attention, that he can feel the brightness of their souls nudging against his mind, that he shifts his playing. that he begins to compose a song of healing and warmth and wellness, a song that is slow and comforting and flows easy off his claw tips. it is towards the end of this song, this spell, that he senses a shift in the audience. that he senses the golden glow of fire racing towards the stage.

his first instinct is to stop playing, to stop the spell, but he knows enough to know that to stop a spell like his mid-cast is to welcome death, not only for himself, but for all his crowd and coven. and so he has no choice but to continue playing. to continue to weave his spell even as his song turns hard and fast and overwhelming. even as the fire grows and twists until it overwhelms the stage and he's so certain he's about to die, that they're all about to die, until the fire gives out. until the fire disappears and it feels as though time stops and his song cuts out and standing before him is a massive viscet of gold and yellow and cream with a mane that is pure fire. standing before him is a god, the god of dreams and wandering and sleep and the lack thereof, the mate of the true goddess ugin -- judas.

"little one" the god breathes out, voice only a whisper in the night, "you play so wonderfully. in all my existence i have not met a siren who casts their spells with such passion as yourself."

"thank you" he says back, bowing his head to the god. "it is the highest honor to receive praise from one as great as yourself."

"i am credit where credit is due." the god chuckles. "but i did not interrupt your spell for a matter so trivial as a few compliments. i have come with a proposition for you."

"a proposition?" he questions, voice unsure. "whatever can i offer to one as great as you."

"your spell work." the god stated. "how would you like to join my mate and i, as our siren?"

without hesitation: "i would be honored."
{600/600}

Extra||

an introductory writing:

for many members of the public, the existence of witches is a fact that has been proven false many times in the years leading up to now. enough members of the church and upper nobility have spoken out against the existence of witches (and in turn demons and angels and all gods but the One True God) that those of lesser standing and impure breeding have begun to abandon their tales of witches. for although they themselves cannot be royalty, they can act and think and speak like royals to the best of their abilities. there are only a select few families that still preach the olden ways. that still speak of witches and know them to be real. these are families of pure breeding and old wealth; families like mine.

throughout childhood i learned many of the secrets of the witch kind. it soon became apparent that i was a siren witch, one who could weave their magic into music or song and captivate the listener to do so however as they pleased. siren witches are amongst the rarest of witches i was taught, so rare that is said all who possess the ability are recruited by the devil himself. for everyone knows of the devil's sirens. i was so sure that i would follow in that path, become a slave to the devil, that i shall always remember the day that i was swayed to the side of the god of dreams: december 9, 1894.
{250/250}

[Rescue2001]

Username|| Rescue2001
Name|| spring feather
Gender|| male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [12]|| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

[padaleckii]

Username|| ~Prophecy~
Name|| Phelix
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [#5th]|| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

[gp5]

Username|| ratatouille.
Name|| Corvus
Gender|| Male
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality||
Corvus isn't a very social viscet. He's regularly suspicious of others- repeatedly going out of his way to avoid all and any interaction. If he has to, he'll certainly play the role of civility and formelness, however, he constantly reminds himself to not trust most. His past has shaped all actions and beliefs he has today, making him a seemingly malicious person. He can be seen as violent and disloyal if a first impression or view-point goes poorly; but he isn't as hard edged as he seems.
When near dependable people, Corvus is notably amiable & passionate in his conversations. He won't hesitate to compliment a new peculiarity, though he can be a bit curt in all of his honesty. He loves to make jokes in the wrong moments, as much as he pretends to not help it, and is very serious on the phrase: "having your back."
148/150

Their Day on December [#]|| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
december 29th
words here lol

Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]
art here lol

- year 1942. (so when it was ww2.)
- "the verdict"
- gas that can manipulate not only living organisms, but the climate and temperature. mutations can happen, but are super rare.
- ete: a hybrid of crane and pelican + crocodile North American P-51 Mustang
- small groups of people left.
- gasmasks.

[universal song]

Username||
Name||
Gender||
Gender for Breeding Purposes|| Male
Personality|| [x150 max]
Their Day on December [#]|29th| [x600 max OR x2 OR x300 & x1]
Extra|| [optional, x1 allowed; x250 or x1 each]

wip

dropping out