[Kydashing]

Sure thing this now ends on the 7th!

[Placebo]

Username: Placebo
Name: Mulina (DFAB Female)

Mu- means tree || Lina- means tender or palm tree

Prompt:

The crown of flowers fit perfectly. Mulina hummed a small tune at the soft brush of power that slid down her back as she put it on, the feeling almost like a gentle caress. Oh my, what a lovely offering. Definitely enough to coax her from her slumber. Her fingers glowed with a soft green light as she thumbed the gossamer petals.

Ah, but… she recognized this energy signature. One she felt pervade the lands of this jungle, even as she rested underneath the tangled roots of the central tree. The message was from another resident genius loci, like her.

But this one, ah... this one far eclipsed any power she could have ever hoped to attain, in her previous life or the next. She tilted her head curiously as she pondered what to do.

Should she answer this call?

She was never summoned for no reason. Despite the power she sensed, it astounded her that the maker of this crown knew where to find her at all. She thought she buried herself and her essence deep, especially after…

No, no. Those dark thoughts were thoughts for another time. The wounds she once bore were long since healed. Now, she could…

Her eyes widened. She could. She could return to her post. Finally, at long last!

She shifted in the nest she erected, and the soil easily moved at will. The roots of the tree were eager to rouse their previous master up to the surface, but as she moved closer to air, the marks of the resident loci only grew stronger. Thick gold and black ley lines, heavy with the presence and power of the loci vibrated like taught strings as her own waned energy barely brushed against them.  She shuddered inwardly, hoping the encounter wouldn’t go south.

Had to put her game face on. She emerged from the rich soil without much fanfare, and the jungle was nearly silent in the morning light save for the buzzing of insects and distant chirps. She felt the ground shift under her feet as she kneaded her paws. Oh yeah, definitely good to be back.

Time to face the music. Mulina then pricked her ears. Literally and figuratively… A low, oscillating hum, music in all but name, tingled in her paw pads. So, she followed in the direction of the sound. As if the heavy honeysuckle-scent of the energy didn’t give away the loci’s whereabouts enough.

As if sensing the impertinence of the situation, any animal she came across gave her a wide berth. All except the birds, which alighted on her shoulders and sung their soft tune into her ear and groomed the soft layering of her feathers over the wood of her body. Mulina huffed in laughter— now this was one thing that didn’t seem to change in her absence. The sound led her to a thread of bushes, and by the change in airflow, a clearing was on the other side.

She pushed her way through and stilled, and was met with… another viscet-morph, much like her. His sheer power continued to flow past her flanks, and she shuddered. Or, maybe not so much.

He sat against a tree, reclining with seemingly no care in the world, and the low timbre of his voice and power vibrated the very air around them. He seemed focused on his task of threading the stems of gold flowers into another elegant wreath. This time of a necklace. His eyes were previously lidded, but then he looked up at her under dark lashes. Orbs, the color of the morning sun. It almost hurt to look into the bright, calculating gaze, but she stood her ground, and spoke. Her voice was only a rasp from misuse. “State your name, loci. Why have you evoked me?”

His lips quirked, just a touch. Mulina then felt the miniscule weight of the birds lift off her shoulders as they went towards the male. They landed on his shoulders as well, but one alighted on his finger, and his gaze went soft. He then spoke as well. “Desmond. Come closer, Mulina.”

She took care not to show the thrill of fear at the knowledge that he knew her true name, but she knew this Desmond could read her like a score on a tree trunk. Though this was once her home, this was his domain now. And since she was discovered, she was at his mercy. She walked forward, and paused as he stood, necklace in paw.

“Imagine my surprise when a little birdie told me you were slumbering underneath this forest,” he said as he slipped the wreath around her neck. The flowers sent another rush of power through her, and the grogginess she felt slowly wicked away. She’d mistake the gift to be intimate had it not served to be a reminder of his request. “I considered leaving you be, but I felt this situation too dire.”

Mulina blinked in surprise at the admission. What could possibly be happening?

“There’s a terrible force threatening the security of this jungle. Mulina, I need your help.”

[Kara Danvers]

Because to take away a man's freedom of choice, even his freedom to make the wrong choice, is to manipulate him as though he were a puppet and not a person.

Username:
Kara Danvers

Name:
Marion

Behind the Name:
Derived from Marionette, a puppet with strings

Prompt:
Some viscet are born, Marion was made. Crafted by the elusive viscet known as "the dollmaker," Marion began life fully grown, and quite literally, with strings attached. Marion was made to be a puppet. As a puppet, everything Marion did was controlled, every action, every quirk, it was all done by "the dollmaker." Marion could do nothing by themselves, everything was done for them. All of that changed, however, when Marion put on the flower crown. The action was not done by Marion, nothing ever was, but the second the crown was on Marion's head, something felt different. As Marion looked around, they realized that they were the one looking around. This was not the doing of "the dollmaker," this was the doing of Marion. Even more surprising than this discovery was the soft whizzing sound that echoed from above. Tilting their head towards the sky, albeit quite careful not to lose the flower crown, Marion's eyes could faintly see long strands falling towards the earth. When whatever it was hit the ground, Marion bent over to take a look and could not help but gasp softly in surprise. Lying in the dirt sat a bundle of tangled up strings. Marion did not have to examine the strings closer to know that those were their strings, those were the strings that had once controlled them. Marion did not spend long
staring at the strings, the doll viscet eagerly abandoning them in the forest, headed off into their hometown to let everyone know what had happened. As Marion walked into town, a wide grin spread across their face and the flower crown seated nicely on the top of their head, Marion began to notice odd shimmers of light above the heads and bodies of the other viscets. Upon closer examination of the shimmers above Marion's neighbor, the doll viscet could not help but shudder. The shimmers were the reflections of strings, strings just like the ones that had controlled Marion. Everywhere the doll viscet looked they could see strings, each and every viscet in the town having them. Unable to cope with what such a horrendous sight, Marion ran as fast as they could out of the town, headed back into the forest. By the time the doll viscet stopped running, it was close to twilight and the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. Stopping by a large oak tree to get some rest, Marion head a soft voice ring out. "You don't have any strings," The voice exclaimed. Marion's head whipped around to find the source of the sound, finally settling on a small purple viscet sitting by a bush. "No. No I don't have any strings." Marion responded, noticing that this viscet didn't have any strings either. "Where are your strings?" Marion added, curiously. The purple viscet shrugged. "Gone. Just like yours." It was at this statement that Marion noticed the viscet wearing a rather odd looking beanie. "How did you lose them?" Marion replied, their curiosity peaking. "I put on this hat and my strings fell off. Same as you." The viscet explained matter of factly. "But how?" Marion couldn't help but blurt out. "The strings kept us all the same, this hat made me different, it made me, me. And me, I can't be controlled by strings." The viscet responded, before getting up and padding off into the descending night, leaving Marion standing alone, and string-free next to the oak tree. The doll viscet stood there in that spot for a while, their eyes blinking rapidly, their mind racing with thoughts. Marion was trying to process all they had learned, though, they
could not get the image of the town full of strings out of their mind. Marion knew the freedom of being without strings and could not
help but want to extend that freedom to others. What did that strange purple viscet say about losing strings, Marion thought to
themselves. Ah right, they said that it requires something about us to be different. As soon as the thought popped into the viscet's head, Marion knew what they had to do. Running off into the forest, Marion began collecting flowers of every size, color, and kind. When they had enough specimens, Marion got to work and began weaving brand new flower crowns. Each and every crown was different, though Marion tried their best on every one, hoping that they would look appealing enough for other viscets to want to wear. All night
Marion worked hard on creating the crowns, and by morning, it seemed they had massed enough crowns for their whole town.
Satisfied with their creations, Marion proceeded to take them, a few at a time, into town, leaving the crowns scattered amongst various landmarks; the fountain, the bookshop, the bakery. By the time Marion had placed the last crown, the entire town was covered in them.

[Kydashing]

Last day to work on forms

[Kydashing]

I am allowing 3 more days for anyone whos already made forms to clean up/finish their pieces. No new forms are allowed this point forward.

[Kydashing]

Offically closed :)

[Kydashing]

Username: Tazaria
Name: Bailie ~ Pronounced, 'Bailey'
Gender: Agender
Pronouns: They/Them
Gender for Breeding: Female
Prompt:
Nothing happened. The beautifully crafted flower crown sat quietly on Bailie’s head with no issues. The young viscet was expecting someone to come rushing through the bushes to tell them that the flower crown was not theirs. Or for the crown to explode on their head. That was a bit anticlimactic they thought to themself as they turned and started padding in the opposite direction. They let their tail drag behind them as they sifted through the long, dry grass, their coat blending with the environment. Their nose twitched as they caught the sweet, alluring scent of fresh crushed cherries just beyond a fallen tree. Bailie twisted through the tree’s stiff branches without hesitation as their stomach grumbled in anticipation. As they cleared the tree, their eyes locked on the berries sitting idly in a pile in a clearing. They were placed on short, green grass that seemed softer than the stiff, tall grass Bailie had just been padding through. Bailie glanced around the clearing nervously, they couldn’t help but guess that there was someone nearby with how the cherries had been placed and all.

The viscet hesitated for too long for soon another emerged from the other side of the clearing with more cherries in their mouth. Bailie winced as they realised the animal was a horse. A large one at that. They always had a fear of the large herbivore, the way they glide almost angel-like across the ground when they gallop yet one strike from their hoof is powerful enough to send any viscet into a dark abyss. Bailie shrunk back into the dry grass, their stomach groaned again in protest at the viscet’s thoughts of fleeing. The equine hadn’t taken notice of the viscet yet and continued gathering the red fruit peacefully. Bailie closed their eyes for a moment and hoped that this horse was friendly as they decided that food over their own fear was more important. As the viscet emerged from the long grass, the equine’s head shot up and pricked their ears curiously.

“I...I’m sorry for intruding, but I was wondering if you would be willing to share a small portion of your cherries there?” Bailie stammered willing their voice to sound strong despite the shaky start. They looked to the ground and tried to show with their body language that they weren’t a threat to the equine, yet that made them vulnerable to an attack.

The horse’s eyes locked on Bailie’s flower crown and widened fractionally. They had gone completely still for a moment before leaning down, extending their left foreleg in front of them to support their weight as they bowed. Their head rested on the ground and their right foreleg was inclined, “your majesty,” the equine spoke with a deep sense of respect, their eyes closed.

Bailie’s mouth dropped wide open as they stared at the horse. The large mammal was bowing to them like they would to a royal figure, “W-what?”
492 words

1 extra:
Art piece ^^

Congrats, i hope you enjoy your new kiddo!

@Sunlitsecrets This story was fantastic, 1 stub awarded to you~

@Kara Danvers I was surprised with the enjoyment i experienced with this and want to award you a stub~

@Surroundingcrystals Thank you for trying out! Since it wasn't technically completed, i could award a stub. But, i will say i love the development i enjoyed reading and hope you will consider in the future to continue your work. :3

@Placebo Another great story, if i could give stubs out like rain do know you'd be up there, but i do hope you know to keep trying and and doing your best~

[Sunlitsecrets]

Congrats on the win and the stubs, guys! I had a lot of fun writing for this viscet <3

Tazaria, my art is yours :3

- - - -

@Kydashing - The one thing I'm a bit confused on is why is Tazaria mentioned both as the winner of the viscet and the winner of a stub? Just thought I should point that out <3

[Kydashing]

Ahh i was on mobile doing this so im dumb. I was supposed to copy and paste you name not hers but it sometimes messes up anyways. Sorry biut that thanks for the heads up!

[Kara Danvers]

Congrats to Tazaria and thank you Ky for the stub!