[gardog]

Marking ^^

[ylesia]

fable name: Nazaris
song: ambience
entry: The dead and withered branches are like gnarled hands reaching out to grasp her in a deadly embrace. During the day, the sun high in the sky cast their dark shadows everywhere. It is impossible to escape their grasp.
There is nothing that has the slightest semblance of being alive, not even her, now more specter than living creature. She spends every day and night wandering through that dead forest, being caressed by the shadows or the rough sharp branches. That feeling is the only thing that still keeps her connected to the earthly world.
The night, when the sharp shadows flatten and allow themselves to be absorbed by the darkness, is not comforting; on the contrary, it is as if a suffocating blanket descends on her, trapping her, holding her close, lulling her to the sweet notes of the sighs and breaths of the dead forest. Perhaps the last breath of what was or perhaps a cry for help, for hope, a last desperate attempt to save itself from the void.

[172 words]

[Miavinn]

fable name: luce
song: ✦✦
entry: the day his light was drained

[cluster]

fable name: Willow
song: a misty memory
entry:

Dont blink. Don't even blink. Blink and you're dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don't turn your back, Don't look away. And most of all, don't blink. Good luck.

[*JACKAL*]

fable name: Azrael
song: (optional)
entry: Took a while!

[crexmii]

mmmmmark
image

[.devote.]

Marking

[leopia]

fable name: rue
song: dear ghost of mine
entry: when fear and fable intertwine; the mind can brew a dangerous concoction. whispers of the walking statue will find you long before you reach the old, ramshackle town; they warn to close the windows and doors after dusk, to listen for the call of the mourning doves (they only sing in her presence), and to never step foot in the graveyard at night. for it is there, among the bones and stones, that the eyeless widow watches and weeps... some say if you are unlucky enough to hear her cries, you're sure to lose a loved one not long after. but myths and legends are so often wrong. whatever lurks within that old cemetery has no ill intentions -- the ghosts are mostly quiet and the dead rest easily. though most are too afraid to enter even during the day, somehow, the grounds are still tended to, the headstones cleared and cleaned, and there are always small yellow flowers, left in memory of those who cannot be remembered. [wc: 167]

[fawn-]

fable name: Mazikeen
song: (optional)
entry:
The autumn storm raged on as growing puddles reflected the darkness of midnight. The heavy raindrops warped the watery images, creating haunting movements in otherwise beautiful mirrors. The new moon cast its shadow across the land, welcoming those who parade at night. Mazikeen slowly opened her eyes and stretched her wings. She rose from a moss lined hollow tree and stepped out onto the soaked ground. It had been a month since she’d fed. The shadows stirred, sensing the presence of she who could create or destroy them with only a whisper. Mazikeen drifted out to the forest’s edge, shadows following closely in her footsteps. They floated along the canopy, crashed through the undergrowth, slithered across the fallen leaves. Mazikeen took a deep breath in — the air was heavy with nightmares only a devil could dream. It was perfect.

[justamindset]

fable name: riot
entry:


the writer had whispered of their memory deteriorating, struggling to hold the pen they'd so desperately wished to write with as their hands shook with age, fragile and thin boned. medals of the war hung on his left shirt pocket, a reminder of what the veteran had been through many years before.

black ink creeped closer and closer, seeping across the page towards the picture of the long forgotten war horse. riot watched as the ink ate at everything around him, the pristine pages staining the last of his memories as the sense of dread bled from him. tears of black stained his face as the ink took his story from him, and from the world.


thus created inkspell, a story of characters losing their sense of selves to spilled ink, and a war horse dreading losing his own.