[hiraeth + hound]

owned by Marsh!

nr: sclera color
s: shine, hair
c: fur, tail
uc: shorter fur, ears

[Foxglove.]

username: RussiannLucifer
name: WIP
gender: WIP
relationship with the sand: (max 500 words)
1 extra: (optional)


Mark :3

[₊˚ʚ꒷ ₊˚Mallow₊˚ ‧₊]

username: ₊˚ʚ꒷ ₊˚Mallow₊˚ ‧₊
name: Marci
gender: Female
relationship with the sand: (max 500 words) WIP
1 extra: Wip

[Marsh]

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Ｄａｓｈｔ－ｅ xＫａｖｉｒ
the sand x ✧ x malex

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Dusk hung above the desert, the last of the heat escaping into the air in a shimmering haze. The desert was a lonely, unforgiving place to some, but Dasht-e Kavir was at home. He admired the white sun as it descended from the sky.

From the distance, the characteristic grunt of a camel announced an oncoming caravan. A grin slowly spread across his face as he watched their progress from afar. He raised his arms, eyes closed, and began to picture a mirage falling into place. When he finally opened his eyes he had drawn a nebulous oasis that twinkled in the air. Kavir smirked as he blew on it, the mirage crumbling before him into a stream of particles that weaved its way towards the travellers.

The bearded man in front pointed and let out a string of excited utterances before he began to tug the lead camel on with more urgency. Kavir chuckled at his deception and followed behind at a distance. As soon as they reached the spot, the oasis vanished before their eyes and, to his surprise, the man leading the caravan dropped to his knees and wept.


✧ ✧ ✧

Kavir hung back in the shadows from where the turbaned men had set up camp. Ordinarily, travellers laughed after being tricked by Kavir’s illusions, and carried on with their journey. The man’s reaction, however, had left Kavir bemused. As he remained hidden, he overheard the two men heatedly discussing stories of vital oases drying up. Panic edged into their tone as they wondered how they would survive to the next. They were right to be concerned, Kavir could sense the early signs of heat madness in the pair. Their conversation drove an unmistakable dread into his gut. For as long as he’d been alive the desert springs had reliably produced water. What had changed? Kavir played with a strand of desert grass as his mind raced. The fact his trick had cost the men valuable time to reach water was a rude awakening. He had to trace the curse back to its source.


✧ ✧ ✧

Kavir travelled for four days with the burning sand under his feet. It twisted into turrets as he played with it and mindlessly drew streams of sand around him as he moved. On the third night he caught sight of the gulf, begging that there was truth in the ancient human tales of a magical guardian of the seas.
The next day he paced along the shoreline, dancing away from the waves threatening to submerge his ankles. Kavir had never much liked the sea and his heart pounded in fear, though he would never admit it. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes shut and let the words flow from his mouth like a spell:

“O ancient one, most worthy and benevolent, seek to help Dasht-e Kavir who calls on you.”

Kavir waited, suspiciously regarding the waters lapping against the sand. He tried again but there was no sign of any change, and his humble demeanor snapped...

[ 500 / 500 ]
[ continue here ]

[beebun]

[img]animagegoeshereonceifinishit[/img]

user + partner ♒︎ coraly | kestrelthefirecat
name ♒︎ agave
gender ♒︎ cismale

log .. date unknown

I am the lone survivor of an exploration team sent to find livable habitats in the sand, for what little of us are left. my last companion died of a venomous snake bite. I am documenting this.. just incase there is hope someone will survive.
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I have begun to see things.. flashes of blue in a red ocean. I know who she is.. but I do not think, because if I do, I will forsake all hope.
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the sandstorms have gotten worse.. it takes all my willpower to not drink what little water I have left. there is a mountain in the distance. if I can just reach it in time.. maybe I’ll survive afterall...
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I am truly going mad. sometimes it seems as if the sand talks. talks I tell you! it whirls up and down, and sometimes I hear voices.
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I’ve found a cave! a whole mountain actually! this place would be perfect.. but I have no way to contact anyone. so now, I send a paper into the wind, hoping it will reach its destination.
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the sand talks, again, but this time I heard it clearly. it speaks a language that I do not understand. maybe with time I will. but I don’t think I have that much time left.
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I’ve learned enough about sand to understand it now.. or at least I hope. I’m sending another letter into the wind, and I’ve asked the sand to carry it to her.
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I’m getting.. lonely. I feel my mind will truly leave me soon. I need to know if the letter reached her..
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sand is playful.. and stubborn. sometimes I can predict it. control it. but only if it wants me to. the other times it just spurts up in my face. it’s like a person, it has a personality.
and I don’t feel that alone anymore.

[312 words]

[FluffyBirdie]

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username, FluffyBirdie ∷ name, Meiri ≈ gender, Male
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thread

[Kyar]

Username: kyar
Name: khali
Gender: male [he/him]
Extra: blending souls & shades (to shiraz) - dhafer youssef
relationship with the sand:
wind lashed out with roaring jaws, spattering grains of sand carried with the unhindered force of relentless gales, shifting dunes, shifting moments in time, battering the lost soul as heavy footsteps marched ever onward in timeless expanse.

the intensity of the sun scorched all color, stole every breath of water from the air, from his empty bones. there was a ringing in his ears if he bothered to listen, but his eyes had found another taste of the darkest poison - hope. hope that the shimmer on the horizon would this time really be, that it wasn't a mirage, that he would taste the sweet memory of water, of relief, of hope.

sand danced with his very skin, his very soul, and each ragged breath filled him just a little more with the desert he'd wandered so long as he could remember. a violent cough roared up a handful of ever-dry sand, a little less debris for his ragged lungs. when he really thought about it, he couldn't remember water. he wasn't sure how he knew water, why he longed for it so, why a spirit bound to a husk of a body, to the will of the desert, could even dream up such a foreign thing. perhaps it was a memory - not his own, rather, a collective memory he'd stolen from the living, the foolish who dared enter this stretch of nothingness. perhaps it was a curse, some twisted idea the desert had woven into his mind, between the embedded sand, the limitless heat.

or perhaps there was hope. perhaps the ghosts of sensations - water, cool, refresh, life - were his own, and they were a reality, if he could see through the desert's tricks to reach them. what was it like to hear one's own thoughts? to hear a voice beyond the hissing sands, the dredging footsteps winds so quickly stole away? how long had he wandered, continuing this hope?

and what for? each time his eyes had held the glistening membrane shimmering on the horizon, no step brought him closer. the mirage waited at the edge of his vision, in sight, out of reach. every pull of his heart toward the deceit of his eyes - why did he do it? time rolled on with the shifting sands, and each time he drank the poison. each time, he had hope.

he held it now, close to his empty heart, fixed on the oasis he so desperately yearned for, and he pushed on. time, effort, heat. everything meaningless now as the hunger in his eyes grew. every grain of him now pivoted on that hope. this time would be different. this time he would reach it, taste the chill, feel the lifegiving droplets on his aching tongue. on and on, and for a moment, it grew closer.
then it was gone.

he cried out, only to be swallowed by the desert once more.
sand.
wind.
silence.
and his eyes reached up to drink the poison - a new sparkle in the distance.

[500 / 500 words]

[home]

username: ovktor
name: nian
gender: female
relationship with the sand: here
extra

continue here

[sheepsorrel]

username: conradical
name: asha
gender: male
relationship with the sand:

asha saw his future in the shifting sands;

he often joked that he had looked into the sun for too long as a child, and the sun allowed him visions of the future to distract the young kalon from blinding himself in the burning light.

when he stood with his adolescent friends and looked down from pear point, they saw oceans of pale sand punctuated by the occasional prickly cactus. he saw visions of his friends in their old age, sickly and sweating in their cots.

like sand in the wind covers stones, asha covered his worries with a frivolous and antagonistic nature. he would be asked by kalons from his village and families from far away: "what will happen to me? who will i love? when will i feel whole?"

he knew the answers for everyone else; he didn't have any of his own. he would paint the stories of their futures with drama and tact. at night, when the sand cooled and the stars shone, asha would sit far from his village and wonder about himself.

he wondered about his visions; where they had come from, what they were capable of. he wondered about his family, his ancestry.

see, asha was not born of the sands. he had been found, old enough to walk but not to remember, and brought into the village with a waterskin and thin blanket over his shoulders. they had found him staring into the sky.

asha wished he could see his own future, yet he could not. all he knew with certainty was that he couldn't stay in the village forever, acting as a fortuneteller to soothe the worries of other kalons. there was a yearning in his chest to journey elsewhere and find someone to settle the woes in his soul;

he heard the sounds of the ocean.

[Grey_Hoodie]

username: Grey_Hoodie
name: Kermit
gender: masc nb (he/they)
relationship with the sand:[500/500]

The earth shifts beneath him, giving way to slower, heavier steps and crowding into the curves of his body when he finally crumbles to the ground. Golden grains of sand glitter before his eyes, cascading in shimmery streams down the dune’s side and catching the sun’s light just so that it nearly blinds him. It would have once been beautiful, but whatever wonder there may have once been for the sight has long since vanished. Now, his gaze moves past the light show without hesitation, and the distant scenery swirls in and out of focus. Amber eyes glaze over from time to time as a flurry of thoughts filter in and out of Kermit’s mind.

As a magical world woven by his own hands, this desert has no end to it, and as a creature with no sense of direction, Kermit has stumbled time and again past the same old sights: an abandoned sunken cityscape, a dune taller than the rest, a set of colossal creaking ribs, and a series of dilapidated stones that may or may not have once been carved into. Perhaps he’d once known what each and every aspect of this desert had meant to him, but now, Kermit could only guess. None of the memories he’d clung onto spoke of this desert or the draw it’d once had on him. None of them gave way to powers he knew he once had held.

Perhaps it no longer mattered. Kermit didn’t expect to regain what had been lost – he had so little interest in trying to see what had once inspired him in this dull, drab place that he knew he would only be fighting a losing battle.
Rather than exhaust himself trying to put himself back to how he’d been before, Kermit was far more interested in breaking away from the ring of steps he’d been thoughtlessly forming and following. He was tired of burning beneath an auburn sky, trudging on through miles of nothingness until he was too exhausted to continue and too scared to stop entirely.

Kermit longed for something that would strike out and pierce him with a feeling he’d long since thought had vanished entirely: inspiration. He wished to see this world anew, to find something within it that could create a spark and reignite his love for this vast expanse. Kermit would not abandon it – not when he knew there must have been some reason why he’d held onto it – not when it was his world to shape. He’d already seen glimpses of something special just above the horizon. A fresh night creeped at the edge of the desert’s eternal day, flitting by in brief strands carried by boiling breezes.

The shift in atmosphere, in color, in wonder, was absolutely addicting. There was a part of this world that held darkened azure skies, glowing silver sand dunes and roaming mythical creatures that thrived. There was a part of this world that beckoned him, even as the rest of it drowned him.
1 extra: if i've got time,,, art o-o