[capone.]

i've been wanting to adopt out some legendary kits for a while, and here we are! wicc and i got some lucky rolls with three winged kits, so two are up for adoption. this kit is open for anyone to enter; the other kit is open to only those who have never owned a legendary kalon!

to enter, draw or describe how having wings impacts this kalon's life! (thank you aey for the prompt idea!!)
you have 2,000 words or 2 art pieces to answer the prompt; you may also split it with 1,000 words and 1 art piece
if you choose, you may have 1 extra in the form of 500 words, 1 art piece, or whatever else you come up with; you're free to run your extra by me if you want!

extra notes
- this is an ooc breeding! your kit will not be connected to my kalons as the parents :>
- please try to stay within the word limit but it's okay if you're a tad bit over!
- if you do art, it can be your own or commissioned as long as credit is given

ends: december 15th @ 11:59pm EST

please feel free to send me a pm if you have any questions!

[capone.]

reserved for whatever, posting is open!

[SilhouetteStation]

Username: SilhouetteStation
Name: Relteiya
Pronouns: she/they
Word Count: 1644 / 2000

I shouldn't be bothered, but I am. It's not like I haven't heard things like that before. It's not like I haven't known, since I could walk and talk and understand, that I'm adopted. That I was dropped off in a basket at the castle steps with a note tucked into my blanket, and that who I now call my parents took me in and raised me as their own. They are a very kind Lord and Lady, and even kinder parents. I have never thought to call them anything besides Mother and Father, because that's who they are, and I am their child. The city itself embraced me, and I have never felt out of place in being adopted.

It's my bloodline that bothers me. My biological heritage that makes me stand out, makes me different. It's the thing that makes people glance, makes them whisper. It's not something people do to be spiteful. Actually, I think they do their best to not let their gossip get around. But it does, and I do hear it. I don't know whether I'm appreciative or irritated. If they want to think of me as illicit, they can say it to my face. But they never will; not when my parents are royals. Not when I'm the child of the royals.

The adopted child.
The illicit child.
The half sprite child.

Relationships between mortals and sprites are supposed to be forbidden; that's the first thing to set tongues wagging. Obviously one of my parents is some sort of air related sprite, because of the wings. But those are the second thing to really make people do a double take - I have wings. And the only air sprite with wings is the original air sprite - Galifeira.

There is no way - absolutely no way - that the Galifeira would break their own rules. The other original sprites would have been furious. It's just...out of the question. Unthinkable.

Of course that doesn't stop people from thinking. It doesn't stop them from wondering, and staring, and whispering. Discussing a parentage that isn't their own to discuss, and making guesses about things they've no right to guess about. Those kinds of people have no right to make me their business in that way, but I suppose it comes with also being the royal child. I could deal with that well, I think, if not for all this extra baggage. Glancing over my shoulder, I shift my wings and watch the feathers ruffle. Ha. Extra baggage. That's one thing to call them.

I turn more to look at the double doors leading back into my room, thrown wide open, through to the other side of the room, where that door is closed. I'm out here on my balcony, alone, and sometimes it's my favorite place to be. The peace and quiet is nice, yes, but it's the alone part that really gives me a chance to...well, to be me. The real me. The half sprite me.

Because as much as part of me wants to deny what I am, I can't. Whatever kind of sprite I come from, their magic runs through my veins. I'm descended from the original beings of this world and that's...exciting. It bothers me, but it excites me too. My history spans centuries. A forbidden relationship made me, but the fact that I was able to be made; that a mortal and a sprite would be able to have a child, and that child should be me.

First and foremost, I am the child of a Lord and Lady. They are my parents, and we love each other as family. Our bond is thicker than blood and that is something that will never change.

But my heritage has dictated that I will change. I'm already changing. My wings have been with me since the day I was born. Tiny, fluttering, ultimately useless things when I was a baby. But they're growing, they're growing as I grow, and they're a part of me. More than biological anatomy, I'm connected to them. Or they to me, I suppose. And I can't break that bond either.

I turn my head to the sky, eyes half closed, and slowly relax the muscles in my shoulders. Ever so slightly my wings loosen and stretch out. A tingle runs through them, right down to the very tips of my feathers. I can't help but revel in the breeze. Something about feeling the air beneath them is so good. When the breeze comes through again it's stronger. It lifts them up. If I'd been in public, they'd be pinned to my body. But here...I stretch them out fully, leaning forward into the wind.

It's the wind that catches them, and I let out a startled yelp as I'm picked from the ground and blown backwards. My feet dangle helplessly for a few seconds before I'm roughly plonked back onto the balcony, unsteady. Legs trembling, I half fall to the floor. It's hard to tell which is running faster, my thoughts or my adrenaline.

Did I just...did I just fly?

I take in a deep, shaky breath, and let it out slowly. No. That wasn't flying. That was...an accident. Like a leaf being picked up and swirled around. My fingers restlessly drum against the stone. But supposing...supposing that I could?

I have wings; it's a fact that I will be able to fly. I've always known I'd be able to someday, I just didn't think it would be anytime soon. But...what if I could fly now? What if I was ready for that now?

I look back at the door. Still closed. I look at the balcony edge. Feel the breeze. Bite my lip in excitement.

I walk back over and put my hands on the ledge, leaning forward again, spreading my wings out. This time when the wind gets underneath and starts lifting me I work the muscles, pushing down, trying to push myself up. I'm lifted higher this time, at least three or four feet, and I can't help the laughter bubbling in my chest. It's not really flying, it's hovering more than anything, but it's brilliant.

Then the wind changes direction, and I'm pitched over the balcony.

I start flapping madly to avoid being splattered on the cobblestone below, expecting to only lessen the impact, but I don't hit the ground at all. This is flying. It's mad, and undignified, and I probably look like a baby bird fresh out of the nest but I'm flying. Over a rooftop, down a few streets, gradually and jerkily lowering in altitude. My happiness is soon tainted, however, when I realize that people can see me.

I'm away from the privacy of my room and in view of the public. They stare at me, mouths hanging open. My stomach twists as I realize what I've done. Another reason to point. To stare. To whisper.

I manage to skim another rooftop before losing momentum altogether and crashing into a side street. My ankle twists a bit, and I'm sure to have bruised shoulders. For a few seconds I lay there, listening. There's no one here, thank goodness. I can hear their voices not far away. Getting to my feet, I shuffle to the end of the street and peer around. Thank goodness goodness. I was seconds away from going right over the marketplace.

No one here seems to have seen me. They're all going about their business, buying and selling and adding to the buzz of chatter. I'm annoyed at how relieved I feel. I'm not the only one who knows I'll be able to fly; my parents know, the town knows, it's not a secret. These bittersweet wings have never been a secret. I don't understand how I have them, how I was made, but I was, and though I have no right to feel like this I still do. I should not be embarrassed. I should embrace them, I know. Love them for all that they are, and who I am. Fly above the city in spite of the whispers. No, to spite the whispers. I should do that, but - it's hard. It's difficult.

I let out a noisy sigh.
Talk about having a complicated relationship with yourself.

I'm about to go back home when I notice someone staring at me. I've never seen him before; a traveler, I'm assuming, by the tattered rucksack. He's got a mask covering most of his face, apart from his eyes, which are staring at me with such intensity it makes me take a step back. In response, he takes a step forward. My skin starts to prickle. I turn and quickly walk away.

Maybe I should have stayed in public. There's still no one else up this pathway, and a few seconds later I hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind. Panic spikes through me. Should I run? Hide? Try to fly?

"No - wait, please!"

His voice isn't rough. It's...pleading. Desperate, in a way. Enough to make me slow and turn to face him. I'm still tense, ready to bolt, but what I see takes me by surprise.

There's a wild, startled kind of hope in his eyes; like the embers of a fire sparked up by the breeze, still fragile enough to be blown out by the thing that lit them. He pulls down his mask and takes a step forward. I'm frozen to the spot, watching with a kind of hot and cold shock as a patch of grass blooms beneath his feet. When he speaks his voice is choked with emotion.

"I'm not the only one?"

Above the ringing in my ears I hear the sound of my own voice repeating the words back to me in my mind, and it's enough to make my shoulders shake and chest ache in relief.

I'm not the only one.

[aventurine.]

mark!

[annie15970]

Marked

- Idea reserved
Wings were something he was born with and he didn't realize how important it was to him until he lost them. Seeing how others who used to look at him in jealousy, now looked at him in pity. It was hard. The feeling of soaring through the skies is like no other. You never really understand the exuberance and the freedom that flying is until you can do it yourself. It let him explore places that other's couldn't reach. See the top of cathedrals at eye level. The murals so detailed and beautifully crafted with skilled hands.

[cyborgishly]

mark

[Chickpea]

Mark!

Username: Chickpea
Name: Aryin

Res with before/after the accident

[Kyar]

Wings aside this kit is gorgeous, either gonna enter or at least stick around to see results!

[Fishrabies]

mark

[76heart]

ooo mark!

member of octavia’s crew??
had to hide wings once upon a time but was found by Octavia??
Possibly tyrant king’s unknown daughter

Wings, trife/silly(?) little things they were. The world couldn't seem to make up it's mind how it felt about them, or rather it's people couldn't.
she supposed she had gotten her ___ (callousness?) from octavia