[molotov]

xxxxxxuser. Discontinued
xxxxxxname. Mavros

base/fur: classic
horn: med. unicorn 2
wings: none
ears: jackal
tail: cloud
extras: custom butterflies.

[kaju]

fable name: Calyptra : a genus of moths/butterflies that bite
answer: below


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"Ah, look who it is. Calyptra. Still terrorizing the locals?" A silky voice chuckled, eyes flashing in the darkness. The fable shook her head in amusement, sending droplets of salty cold water to the cracking dirt underfoot. "Of course. Such silly little stories, if you ask me. Seems as if it's transformed into tales to scare foals." She replied, seating herself next to her old friend.

"Except the stories are true, are they not? I saw firsthand what you've done. I saw the aftermath. The smell of pure terror and unbridled fear that courses from the unfortunate. I think it's simply beautiful."

Calyptra was silent, the only sounds ringing in her ears were songs of crickets in the distance and the words Shinigami had just uttered, repeating itself in her head over and over again.

"But I'm not a monster.”


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Nearby, an older fable, named Theria, gazed down at a circle of expectant young foals, her once shining eyes tired and her body worn and scarred. She gingerly lowered herself to the ground, keeping her mangled hindleg curled. Careful to keep her voice down, she began speaking with a hushed tone, drawing the young in closer. "Let me tell you a story about the Water Mimic, a terrifying creature who roams these very lands, unseen and awaiting its next victim. Nights near the ancient pine woods are dark and uninviting. Veils of darkness that swallow all light and sound, leaving only eerie silence that makes even the bravest shiver in its wake. Our story starts with myself, young and oblivious. I made a grave mistake on my first year as a young adult. Unsatiable curiosity can get you into dire trouble." She paused to pointedly look at a particular foal in front of her, who shuffled her hooves and avoided eye contact. "It was a night like any other. Turmoil and violence erupted from the herds, seldom was there peace between anybody." She paused again, preparing herself to relive terrible memories.

"A singsong voice called me into the woodland, whispers carried by butterfly-shaped leaves and wind. It beckoned me further and further, and I walked aimlessly with only the voice as a guide. Night had fallen, and the moon cast pale rays across the sand, I eventually found myself at the coast. The voice grew louder as I inched towards the water's edge, seemingly taunting me. Gleaming reefs and schools of tropical fish raced through the water, sending soft ripples to the surface. Morbid curiosity clouded my judgement and I took it further, wading into the salty ocean. The water embraced me, waves taking me deeper and deeper. A sharp sense of unease hit me, and I turned to look at the coast which was even farther away now. All sense of time vanished, I felt lost. I felt as if I was in some strange trance. A chill ran down my spine, and I began swimming swiftly back to the coast. Hooves struggling to find purchase on the wet sand, it took me six minutes to get back to the beach. The moment I set foot on the sand, strained and tired from swimming, something grabbed my hindleg."

The circle of foals huddled around her had such wide eyes, ready to absorb the lessons that age and experience could bring. Theria thought about her words carefully. She hoped to instill wisdom in their hearts, not fear.

"Searing pain, sharp teeth, and impending doom and terror was all I felt. Dragged deeper into the currents again, the creature's grip unwavering and harsh. Panicking, I kicked and struggled, thrashed and fought in vain, sending sprays and splashes of water into the sky. The saltwater filled my mouth and stung my eyes, and gasping for breath, I broke free finally after my kick met fur and flesh. Collapsing on the beach, my chest heaved and my body shook with adrenaline. I lay there for a few heartbeats, on the thin verge of consciousness and unconsciousness. A silhouette then appeared above me, standing behind me and chilling me to the bone. The song was louder than ever, and I finally understood what had lured me in. I turned my head slowly, dreading what my eyes were to see. I locked eyes with a towering dark figure, smelling of salt and decay. Butterflies flitted past my head, speckles of stardust falling from their wings. The siren stared wordlessly, thick mane and tail tangled with seaweed billowing in the breeze. Its sharp horn caught the moonlight and piercing yellow eyes delving into my soul...."

Theria's voice suddenly faltered, and she struggled to her feet as fast as she could. A hauntingly familiar song whispered in the breeze. Disturbed, the fable felt a primal sense of fear. Was it all in her apprehensive mind, or was it a twisted version of reality, coming to finish what it had started when she was young?

A pair of yellow eyes glowed in the woods beyond, locked onto Theria with an evil hunger. A horde of butterflies flittered into the sky, seemingly summoned from the air, dust falling from their wings and settling upon the circle of fables below…


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Calyptra is a siren, a dangerous one. Swarms of carnivorous butterflies, pollen-like dust and clouds of grey smoke accompany her wherever she goes. There’s a deep inner conflict within this fable, she doesn’t want to be viewed as a figure of pure evil. During daytime everything is seemingly normal, but as dusk falls, her mind goes to complete darkness. As a yearling she was cursed, and what she inflicts upon others happens only during the night. She wakes up with no recollection and no memory of what had happened. It’s an unfortunate cycle that leaves Calyptra feeling confused and frustrated. She has no idea of the torment she’s inflicted, and it drives her to the brink of insanity.

[Nanorat]

fable name: Tariel
answer:

They say, on quiet moonless nights, one should not leave the safety of their herd... for on the outskirts, away from sight but looming in the dark just enough to give a slight presence, evil preys. Nobody knows where he came from, but once upon a time, a stallion of astonishing beauty had started to appear here and there around the herds, murmuring a soft, melodic tune, surrounded by sparkling golden butterflies he conjures - radiant and noble, he looks as if a magical prince stepped right out of fairytales, but the appearance is decieving. Should you fall for his charming golden eyes and follow him into the distant forest depths - away from your family, your friends, away from anyone who can help you - and that is where the beast shows his true nature. He will lure you into the darkest shadow where no light ever creeps and there, he will turn on you! No one knows what he does with his victims, for no one who had fallen for his enchanting voice ever came back to tell the tale. Its been years since this creature of shadows was first sighted across the lands, and ever since, fables had started going missing... and the last thing their herds heard, was always a soft, melodic tune, carried by the wind from somewhere just out of sight.
♪
♪
*here is the part where another fable suddenly bites captivated listener's tail, making them screech and jump up in the air*

This is how the story goes, although depending on the storyteller, the "gruesome end" part might feature various options of what terrible fate awaits the "victims", sometimes very creative ones like predatory butterflies eating them. Not true, of course, his butterfly charms are merely a source of light. Being a light-headed flirt, Tariel floats across the lands leisurely, seeking it appears merely to remedy his own boredom - he does not eat hearts like scary tales imply, but he does break them occasionally. He seems to have a bit of a narcissus streak about him, being pridefully protectful of his freedom - to the point of breaking up any romantic bonds he may have developed with someone to protect his unburdened lifestyle - but in truth, he simply have not yet found what is it that his heart truly longs for. What is the goal of his quest that he keeps venturing on, what is it still beyond the horizon that his soul seeks?.. Perhaps finding a true love would be the answer for Tariel, or maybe his journey is his goal after all. In either case - he does not care about the ghost stories surrounding him, they never truly impacted how well he can socialise with the others - there always are numerous curious fables looking for adventure in meeting him, and at very least, the local iteration of the spooky tale is something amusing to discuss.

[BelieverInChrist]

fable name: Psyche
answer: [WIP]

[ylesia]

fable name: Bernard
answer:

ssssssay sssssorry...

"No! Stop it!" Bernard yelled, frustrated.

The other fables looked suspiciously at him. It seemed like he was talking to himself, but that was not the truth. That viper wouldn't leave him alone for a moment!
It was a clear summer night and Bernard was shopping at the mid-summer market. All the fables moved away when they saw him approaching. It was... not a bad feeling, a good feeling actually. Fools, Bernard thought.

ssssssay sssssorry...

Bernard sneezed and a mysterious golden powder came out of his nose. They all turned away, looking at him fearfully. Someone had spread the rumor that Bernard was a mutant capable of taking any form, some sort of ghost or spirit of the ancient forest... It was not entirely false to be honest...
As everyone moved away the golden dust around him began to clump and move as if it had a life of its own, until it took the shape of a butterfly that began to flutter around. All the fables fled faster than lightning. The butterfly leaned on Bernard's snout.

ssssssay sssssorry...

"I like you in the form of a butterfly, viper. Now. Leave. Me. Alone" Bernard roared.

It was loud. Everyone in the valley heard those four words. Bernard grunted and the butterfly flew away. Someone screamed. Bernard smiled while everyone who was at the market began to run. They ran in every direction, one of them even bumped into him.

"Run" Bernard whispered in its ear. The fable did. As fast as he could.

Bernard, now alone in the market, began to roam around the shops, getting everything he needed. His bags were almost full when the butterfly came back.

ssssssay sssssorry...

Bernard ignored it. A flash of light darted into his eyes, and the pupils narrowed to a thin slit. The butterfly began to unravel, and the dust stood for a moment in midair forming a long streak. A forked tongue seemed to dart out. Then the dust fell to the ground, inert.
Bernard walked away, slowly, leaving behind him a deserted place.

"Will you ever choose someone else to bother or will you stay with me forever?" he asked.

jusssssst ssssssay sssssorry...

Bernard laughed and kept walking.

Now they have something real to talk about... Bernard thought, an evil smile on his face.

[astral.]

fable name: Calliope
answer:

The story of the “blight-mare” has been passed from mare to foal for generations. At first, a tale to warn those of the one that brings on the nightmarish disease known as “blight” that sucks up all the magic within a fable and turns their very essence to dust, now nothing more than a spooky campfire story or a little spooky story to scare foals into bed.

Calliope was but a foal herself when her magic manifested in a field that her herd tended to in the form of butterflies that seemed to enhance her senses. She could sense when there was something amiss with the crops at first by the colour the butterflies wings changed to. Blue wings, ahh! Gotta dust the fields so those pesky caterpillars go away.

She kept a notebook on all the different shades of wings she encountered as she grew and learned. Eventually, her butterflies were attracted to her mama, their wings turning a bright gold. She had never seen them do this before! How peculiar…


Her mama took ill suddenly after this, leading Calliope to desperately find a way to cure her now bedridden mother.

This lead her to the highest of peaks and the lowest depths, searching for plants, seeds, gems, whatever might save her deteriorating mother.

The books she read mentioned the blight. First, her mother lost her magic. She could no longer grow and tend to crops like she had before. Then, she lost her appetite and quickly became a husky of her former self. It wasn’t long before her hooves and horn began to disintegrate into sparkling dust. Slowly, she withered away.

Calliope’s mama eventually succumbed to the blight, and soon she started showing symptoms of the disease herself.

The young mare isolated herself and began experimenting on herself. She managed to slow the spread of the blight and kept her magic, but her hooves and horn slowly turned to dust, just like the sands in an hourglass.

She was now racing against time. More experiments. More reading. More travelling. There was no time.

She found one more potion. One more shot. It had to work, right?!

She threw the ingredients into a pot and mixed with all the strength she could muster, then gulped down the mixture. It was vile.

Her stomach twisted and knotted and she wretched at the taste. The lights dimmed and she lost consciousness.

Two days passed and the mare awoke. She was healed! Bless the stars! She had done it! She could save more fables from this terrible fate!

It was then that she concocted more of the foul tasting cure and filled as many viles as she could with the cure. She packed her caravan and strapped it on. Three on her cape and sent her butterflies ahead of her. They would let her know where she could find more blight victims. She could save them!



Over the many years Calliope travelled, she saved thousands of fables from many herds. Her butterflies came before her, sometimes but a day or two and they became known as the “first sign of the “blight-mare”.

Victims would often hallucinate after initially contracting the disease and had little to no memory of Calliope saving them, so tales spread of this terrifying mare that brought on the blight, even though she was the one to save them from the worst fate.


“Beware, for in the night,
The butterflies in sight
Will bring on the blight.

With it, their steed.
You’d better take heed.

For the blight-mare has come
All your wishes become undone.

And with the disease, spells your fate.
You better run before it’s too late”

[♔Voltaire♔]

Mark❤️

[Evils]

fable name: Neighmare
answer: wip hehe

[Butter Dragon]

Mark!!

To many, butterflies are a beautiful sign of change, of growth. But the people of the coast see them in a different light.

- Life good on the coast
- Out of seemingly nowhere fishing started being scarce
- Fish started to wash up dead on the shore, butterflies feasting on them
- Slowly the town withered, those determined to live fled, those too dedicated to their lives ultimately met darker fates
- They say one was left in the city when it was all dead and done. Four hooved feet walking the street alone, butterflied returning to her side, they call her Famine.

[P0stHum4n]

fable name: Akeldama
answer:

"They say.. in this very forest, lays a guardian." The man warned. The teenagers in front of him seemed slightly impressed. Jude was bored. "A guardian? In this very forest? Right." He scoffed sarcastically. "Oh be that way all you want." Noah barked. The man laughed. "That's what it's like out here. This forest as calming as it may be-" "calming?!" Noah asked. "It's pitch black, foggy, and something I'd see in my nightmares." He shuddered. Everyone laughed lightly.

It was 11:58pm. Jude, Noah, Cole and their father Kingston had decided to go camping on their father's account- who pulled them out of school for half of the week to track down a so called guardian. A myth only few believed, and a myth only few had apparently witnessed. They sat by a fire in the foggy 'Whitman forest'. They could hardly see anything past the dead trees.

"So what is with this guardian, hm?" Cole cooed. "What's his story?" He asked. The others sat up, interested. His father shook in excitement, causing a "are you serious?" Glare from Jude. "Well." Their father started. "Say, it's huge. He goes by the name Akeldama. Meaning field of blood. You see, the forest here is supposed to be a point of no return. Why he is called the field of blood, is to signify the red wings of a butterfly that/ if seen; would prove his arrival."

"Get on with it." Noah said. His father scoffed. "Right."

"Akeldama was an outcast. He used to live with others of his tribe, rumored to live in Whitman forest. He was considered an outcast considering his dark coat. Normally in Whitman forest, they are known for their pearly white coats and fog-like aura, to match their surroundings. Almost like ghosts."

"Akeldama was avoided due to his appearance. He became distant, frustrated- and eventually.. Angered. He wanted revenge. His family eventually kicked him out- calling him strange and--"

Their father paused. Everyone froze as the forest went still. As if time stopped. A red butterfly landed nearby, and Noah and Cole eyed each other warily.

"That's not how the story goes." A voice cooed- an undertone of anger under the nonchalant voice. He appeared out of nowhere, amusement glinting in his eyes, the tall fable, a creature like no other, eyed them. "Akeldama.." The father said. As if he didn't think it was true, despite being the one to drag his sons out into the forest at this time.

"I was not kicked out. I left." Akeldama smiled. Not a genuine smile. "And the butterfly is only my messenger. My name does not mean field of blood for a butterfly of all things." He scoffed. Was he.. offended? Amused? "While it is true I was avoided for the color of my coat, My family who were the color of the fog. Beautiful they called themselves. Said they were like the fog, something about the fog brought us a meaning. A meaning I never had, happening to be different than them." He pranced around them, as if acting. "They said I was not the fog, but the night sky. I didn't understand why that was bad, of course. We all had a set of abilities. I could blend in." *he walked around the family- until he lifted a hoof and shooed the fog, which seemed to darken into a thick aura and reveal the forest. Whose dead trees' leaves were not normal, but the leaves were butterflies, slowly flapping their wings. The table turned his gaze back to him. "I wanted revenge. Revenge for what they did to me. Treating me like I was an outcast. Alone.." *he chuckled dryly. He sighed, Gaze flickering to the forest again. As the butterflies began flying away, the red undertone of their wings were shown.* "I made them the outcasts."
"W-what?" Cole asked. The fable eyed him, causing him to flinch back. The creatures voice was low, uncanny- yet behind his voice seemed to be a hundred others, each a different pitch and tone that echoed behind his words. "I realized, I too had abilities of my own. While I could not.. flow and reappear in the fog and glow like an ethereal star, and I could not see the stars and the moon various times brighter than the sun.. no." He pranced once more, making fun of his old.. 'family.' "I discovered that I could do much more. I could manipulate the shadows- Manipulate the night sky. Trick them into thinking something was wrong. As I grew older I-"

"You.. what did you do?" Jude whispered. He was shaken, for once. "I made them the outcasts."Akeldama Sighed. "I trapped them in the shadows.." where they sold no longer be able to speak to the forest or reside in the fog. No longer the so called wise, ethereal creatures of the forest. No, they are just reflections. Reflections in the water, warning by passers to not tread further and yet, they always come face to face with me. Convinced the reflections in the sky and sea are just delusions, for being tired or wary." He sighed. "Such a shame, sometimes. I advise you best leave.. say. I'll give you a head start."

(Absolutely RUSHED Abecause I realize I had like 5 minutes, sob..)

.