Create a topic here to store adoptable/character competition forms.
by squeegi » Mon Nov 20, 2023 8:25 am


[ ♪ something you love..]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
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seraphiel's story began, as many do, in a small town. a picturesque, mountain-side town, home to cliff-sides and endless expanses of pine trees.
town, really, was a generous term for it. it was a smattering of wooden cottages, dotted along the rolling hills, mostly hidden among the dense trees.
even as a young kit, seraphiel was well-known within the close-knit town as a bit .. peculiar. beloved, but peculiar, nonetheless.
always with a head cocked to the side, ear flicking towards the wind rustling the trees along the horizon. eyes, bright and filled with longing, never focusing anywhere other than the great blue expanse of sky above.
wings, comically oversized and too-big on his scrawny, fawn-like body, never ceasing their restless twitching and shifting, as though he was always barely controlling the urge to flutter out the nearest window.
seraphiel was six when he first heard it; a barely-there whisper of the breeze. it was music, familiar and welcoming like the comforting embrace of two warm arms. an ethereal melody, lilting like a chanted murmur with every soft breath of wind.
later, he'd learn that he was the only one who could hear the enchanting melodies that rustled the leaves along as the breeze blew past, singing echoing notes that only he seemed to be able to hear.
flying with wings spread wide, warm drafts of billowing wind trilling in his ears, was one of the greatest pleasures he'd ever experienced.
as it turns out, though— there was something even better than just gliding easily along the chorus of tinkling melodies.
it was making melodies.
seraphiel could create beautiful, wind-swept song. and he loved it.
his wings, once too large for his lanky kit body, now sat strong and broad and just right, curving perfectly along the lithe, muscular planes of his sides, their presence ever-familiar. they were his anchor; his constant.
he could always be assured of their response to his whim. with careful manipulation of the feathers— a twitch of the coverts, a flare of the primaries, an ever-so slight adjustment of the secondaries— seraphiel could guide the wind billowing beneath his wings into song.
music.
it took time; lots and lots of time. it was difficult, managing changes in wind speed, temperature, drafts, managing environmental difficulties (read: keeping himself from plowing into a tree..), and he took.. more ungraceful tumbles than he would like to admit.
but he could make music. with practice, he was able to glide skillfully from the cliff-sides, wings curving and flaring, and a chorus of otherworldly melodies would lift him higher into the gales of wind, surrounded by the trills and chirps of the breeze, enveloping him in an all-encompassing embrace.
every melodic, wind-kissed note was a reminder. of connection; of belonging. he wasn't alone— and never would be, as long as he had the wind and his wings to guide him through the song hidden beneath the breeze, in a never-ending dance of flight and music unlike anything else on earth.
he loved it.
500 / 500

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[ ♪ .. is something you create.]


Last edited by
squeegi on Wed Nov 29, 2023 5:07 pm, edited 7 times in total.
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squeegi
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by squeegi » Mon Nov 20, 2023 5:58 pm


[ ✩ a secret?]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
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"are you serious?" cricket groaned, lifting his weary eyes from the screen and staring into his webcam, blinking from fatigue. he squinted when his eyes stung. ugh. he really needed to get a new pair of blue light glasses.
after scowling pointedly into the camera for another beat, he returned his gaze to his computer monitor. the taunting character customization screen stared back at him mockingly. his character- an elf, with braided pink hair and tan skin- would have been perfect, but her nose was, somehow, crooked.
"how is it still crooked?" he whined, pressing a paw to his face and sighing loudly. "this is worse than the sims."
begrudgingly, he clicked around in the menus once more and resumed his (increasingly futile) efforts to perfect his character.
honestly, he'd probably end up spending more time customizing his avatar than he would actually playing the game.
he was a gaming youtuber, for god's sake. not a customize-your-avatar-for-six-hours youtuber!
of course, he'd have to edit out the footage. again.
habits were hard to break, and cricket couldn't stand having to play through twelve hours of gameplay with a less-than-satisfactory avatar. it was his best(worst, some would argue, in the comments of his videos)-kept secret, and something he would never, ever admit to.
he squinted down at his screen, silently sulking as he painstakingly adjusted the customization slider inch-by-inch. watching the nose shift by mere pixels, nearly imperceptible, he tried to blink the sleepiness from his eyes.
as cricket absent-mindedly tapped through the facial feature tabs, he tried to make a mental note to double-check his editing. there had been more than one occasion where he had mistakenly left some of his countless hours spent clicking around on the customization screens- he had been able to explain it away to commenters the first few times.
then came the infamous Sims 4 video.
cricket had just wrapped up after almost three hours of filming gameplay, head leaned heavily against his paw, eyelids slipping further with every passing second. it was nearly 1AM, and he had class in the morning. a 9AM, with his least favorite math professor.
he decided to call it a night, forcing himself to perk up and recite his outro.
he was just a few moments from shutting down his computer and calling it a night, when his attention suddenly turned towards his sim's face.
the sim- taylor swift, because he loved recreating celebrities in the sims- was .. wrong. her eyes were.. too upturned, maybe?
whatever it was, it was wrong.
and cricket was going to fix it. how long could it take?
as it turned out, it could take a very, very long time.
the video he uploaded the next day, sleep-deprived and practically dead on his feet after getting no more than 35 minutes of sleep, was seven and a half hours long.
seven. and a half.
(is it really a secret if ten thousand people know about it? that question remains unanswered.)
495 / 500
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[ ✩ nah. definitely not. ]
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squeegi
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