[mousekewitz]

.

┌────────┐

PLAYLIST
x x x x x

└────────┘

......................................

Username. lord ren

Name. Archie Winford

Gender. Male (he/him)

Adventure
“They said I only have a few days.”

The words crash into him in one earth-shattering blow. There’s an immediate change from the blank expression on his face into one of disbelief and sadness. His heart twists before plummeting to the bottoms of his feet. Surely this cannot be true.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean unless they find proper medicine in time I’m going to die, Archie.”

“No.” It flies from his mouth and he stands up abruptly from his chair. His friend rises as well in an attempt to steady him. “When did they tell you that? What’s wrong?”

It’d been moderately known that Edward tended to fall ill with ease. Whenever he catches a bug it hits his immune system hard for days on end. Archie has often fed him potions and the likes, despite his friend’s suspicious and unappreciative declarations of such, in order to guarantee a speedier recovery.

“They said something about my organs beginning to fail. Their functionality is dropping at an alarming speed so eventually my body will become unsustainable.” While Edward is as calm as ever Archie has reduced himself to a state of mild panic. He fiddles with his hands a moment before turning aside towards his potion book.

“That sounds bad-- really bad. I don’t know if I have anything for that.”

“Archie, your potions cannot fix something like this. This is a legitimate medical condition! Not some,” he waves his hands, exasperated, “cold or whatever! Brewing up whatever you have in that book isn’t going to magically make my body return back to normal.”

“You say that every time I give you something. Can’t you let me just try to help? It isn’t like the doctor’s have you at top priority. You’re just going to sit here for days while they laze about with getting you a prescription that might not even work.” Archie fires back, flipping quickly through his recipes. There’s something for nearly everything except what he’s looking for. Finally he comes across something and slams down his paws to spread both pages wide.

His eyes flicker across the yellowed paper with interest. In the background Edward is constructing some sort of reply that falls on deaf ears. Everything around him fades while he soaks in the ingredients and steps.

“This is it!” Archie exclaims, startling Edward into silence. “This should help you, I have nearly everything. It’s complicated and may take a few days but it is worth a shot.”

He spins towards his lightly colored friend with an earnest smile. There’s a snort and a roll of the elder kalon’s eyes. Finally a dismissive wave of his paw.

“Try as you might, Archie, I don’t think you’ll be curing me anytime soon.”

Ignoring his friend, the excited kalon starts towards his cabinets where all the powders, herbs, and flowers are kept for his potions. He picks up a pen and marks off things in the book as he goes. All the things he needs are taken from their jars and lumped into one bowl for safe keeping. Again Edward’s series of complaints is ignored as larger issues are at hand.

“Eddy--,” he interrupts blatantly, “where can I find jade vine? I need some of its beans and I don’t have any in stock.”

“Are you even listening to me? This is stupid, irresponsible, and impossible. I won’t let you haul yourself off to God-knows-where for some stew that won’t even help.” His face narrows at Archie. “And for your information a jade vine only grows in the mountains and it’s amazingly rare. Good luck with your little potions.”

For the second time that night there’s a sinking in his chest. It’s unbelievable to him that Edward can be so upset with him-- he just wants to help in the only way he knows how. Archie has depended on potions ever since he was a kit and was taught about brewing. His door slams as his friend leaves and his home falls into an uncomfortable silence.

He takes in a tender breath. No matter how cross his friend may be there is no reason to stop trying to help him. The book is laid onto his counter while he goes to fetch his bag. Inside his backpack he puts three days of clothing along with his personal hygiene products in the front pocket. Finally he tosses in his recipe book and starts outside his home.

There is a mountain range around the backside of their town. In the past their ancestors would travel up to the three peaks and light fires as rituals but now they serve as a tourist attraction just as the rest of their city. If he is lucky maybe there will be jade vine for him to harvest. He wraps his fingers around the straps of his backpack, glancing over to his neighbor’s yard. He can spot Bella tending to her vegetable garden with a swing in her hips.

“Bella! Can you water my plants for a while?”

“Sure, honey. You going out?”

“Yeah,” he beams with a hint of pride.

“You be safe now!” She waves to him as he hops onto his bike and pedals down the dirt path towards the main square.

A breeze pushes back the bangs covering his forehead and rustles his jacket. He pedals harder, coasting up and over a hill, then glides down the other side. Archie takes a harsh right past a man and his daughter. On instinct he flicks the bell on his bike. The duo calls out in happy return to his disappearing figure.

Once out of sight of the town he leans back in his seat and lets the breeze move through his fur. He looks towards the mountains with a smile before turning to look at the sunset in the distance. By darkness he’d carried himself halfway up the middle mountain. The air around him is suffocating and thick; only the glowing pedals are able to permeate the blanket cast over him.

After a bit more travelling he stops to lean his bike against an old tree. The trunk and roots are covered in a healthy layer of moss. The kalon lays down his bag before resting his head atop it. He slumbers in the comforting hold of the forest until early morning.

By the time he cracks his eyes open the birds are chirping in the foliage. In comparison to last night the scene is soft and welcoming. He’s stopped in the middle of a grove of fruit trees.

“Perfect for breakfast.” Archie mumbles, reaching up on the tips of his toes to snag a few apples. He leaves his belongings beneath the tree as he starts out towards the rest of the woods. Finding a rare plant will be no easy feat but with his enchantment skills and general cunning it should be a piece of cake. He glances around the grove before starting out towards the thicker trees.

The man starts off at a fast pace, running through a short field of flowers before skipping across a shallow brook. Minutes of frustration melt into hours of agony. The sun has lowered itself in the sky and is just beginning to brush on the tops of the trees in the distance. Upset and discouraged, Archie flops down onto a boulder with a pout.

“I can’t do anything right! I can’t find this plant and I can’t help my friend!” His throat tightens as he fights back a sob. Before he can even begin to cry the ground itself begins to move. He’s suddenly tossed off the rock to the dirty ground. A roar ruffles his fur.

Archie glances back in horror only to see a large creature standing where his sitting place used to be. It blinks at him before scratching its own arm. From what he can tell the beast is completely made of mossy rock.

“Help?” It utters.

“Y-Yes. Help. I need help.”

“Need?”

“I need jade vine for a potion. I have to find it and get the beans.”

“Rocky help! Rocky love bean!” The thing bellows, clapping its hands and bouncing from foot to foot. Archie scrambles out of the way before he is scooped up and carried off. He’s held closely to its side for the entire journey and he soon faces a wall of vines. The plants completely coat a rocky cliff banked on each side with thick bushes. The lumbering creature points straight ahead to where a cluster of blue petals hang amongst the vines.

An expression of astonishment crosses over his face. This must be it; surely these are the beans he needs. Archie starts forward and peels quickly at the outer layer of petals to reveal the brown, thumb sized products inside. Without a second thought he jumps and screams with glee.

“Oh thank you, thank you! I’ll never forget this.” He grabs all the beans he can before turning back towards his encampment and running off.

“Bye-bye,” calls Rocky with a smile on his face.

It seems to take longer getting back-- when he arrives to his bike the sun is almost touching the horizon. The beans are tossed into the backpack which is then slung over his shoulders. As he pushes off onto his bike back towards the town he tightens his straps and the contraption shoots off down the bumpy path. He makes it back to his house in record time, the bike being forcefully shoved aside thoughtlessly. Archie slams open the door, gathers his items, then starts towards his brewing pot.

“Here we go, here we go, here we go.” His voice nearly trembles. A thousand questions fly through his mind. What if the potion fails? What if he messes up a step? Then it’d be his fault if Edward died-- it’d be all his fault because he couldn’t save him. Archie stares into the boiling concoction. He numbly tosses in the ingredients.

There’s a welling up of tears in his eyes. Edward has been his closest friend ever since he can remember. There have been times in his life where Edward was the only one keeping him from doing something stupid or giving up completely on everything. Argue as they might they depended on each other. The purple kalon clenches his jaw with a soft sniffle. He cannot fail Edward now.

“Okay, add those and let boil for three hours. Stir occasionally.” An exasperated sigh meets the statement. “There’s no time for waiting!”

Starting towards his cabinet he grabs a container and yanks out the cork before pouring it in. This should speed up things greatly. it boils wildly for a few long minutes before Archie is content with the result. He pulls it off of the fire to cool while he goes to find a container. Edward should be at home right now so it should be easy to find him and feed him the potion. Finally the brown colored sludge is poured into a jar and he runs outside.

He takes a moment to thank the heavens that he lives just up the street from his beloved friend before dashing down the road with his potion in hand. The porchlight is on but the newspaper is still on the stone steps leading to the door. How very odd of Edward not to grab it this morning. The day is nearly done so why hasn’t it been retrieved?

Archie snatches it up before bursting into the door.

“Ed?” His voice echoes. There’s a soft groan from down the hall. “Ed I got the potion.”

He finds his friend curled in his bed, face flushed and paws clammy. Pathetic honey eyes meet his silver ones. After a moment the pale kalon opens his mouth.

“Went--.. Went downhill quickly. Too weak to stand,” he pauses to draw in a breath, “sorry for the other day. I w-was so rude to you.”

Edward’s eyes become unfocused and he continues to mumble breathlessly. Archie opens the jar before tugging up his friend under the arms to sit up in the bed. Suddenly he’s grabbed firmly by the upper arm.

“Do you forgive me?”

“What?”

“Do you forgive me for my brashness?”

“Sure, Ed. Just drink this okay?” He holds up the jar and Edward recoils from the drink. His nose crinkles in disgust. “Drink it!”

Prompted by his forcefulness, the sick kalon takes a few long gulps before gagging and pushing Archie back. Despite his annoyance with the taste an immediate change takes hold. His paws return to normal and his body temperature levels out. There’s a furrow in Edward’s brows. He straightens, breathing deeply, and a look of confusion comes over him as he cuts up his eyes to Archie.

“What’d you do to me? What was in that?”

“I cured you! How do you feel?”

“I feel-- I feel fine.”

A tender smile crosses the potion maker’s lips.

“Good, I’m glad you’ll be around to pester me longer.”

Edward snorts and cuffs him over the head.

“Shut up you lark, bring me my mail.”

And with that everything returns to normal.

Backstory
Archie is extremely close with his family. He is an only child and as such was a bit spoiled but he has a mass of cousins that he grew up with over the years. He was always loved, cared for, and supported by those around him. His family resides in a village surrounded by a forest. They're somewhat modern but with a rustic twist; all of their roads are cobbled and their homes are simply renovated versions of buildings from the past. Every year they'd hold a reenactment of the town's history. This event was famous across the continent for superb acting and realistic costume design. As a kit he enjoyed acting with the others but now prefers to help with costumes or decorations. This cultivated him into the giving man he is today.

Personality
All his life he's been a lovable sort of guy. In his childhood he went out of his way to make friends and help others however he could. This genuine personality carried into his teens when he began learning about the world around him. As his parents taught him spells, potions, and charms he became increasingly aware of the supernatural. Others would tease him endlessly for his superstitious nature but their words rolled right off him. His big imagination leaves him with an endless pool of inspiration to draw from. Archie can also be described as strong willed and resilient. His friendliness and dependability makes him the perfect companion for virtually anyone that is able to withstand his excitable nature.

Hobbies
In his spare time Archie loves to give out healing crystals in the village. Many of the people he knows there are poor, sickly, and hungry. Though he can't exactly help through donations he gifts them potions, talismans, and other things to help motivate them. When he can he'll try to bring them food he's cooked up-- the smiles on their faces make his heart swell with pride. Aside from his volunteering with them he enjoys reading books on spells and new ingredients. He already has written an entire novel of his own recipes but commonly takes inspiration from more experienced potion makers and charmers.

Daily Life
His typical day starts with him waking at the crack of dawn, hair mussed and sticking in virtually every direction. After a vigorous brushing of the mop atop his head he tends to his plants. They're used for various potions or even a friend's spell if they've accidentally run out of ingredients. Some of them need to be watered daily while others can go a day or two without anything more than sunshine. It takes nearly an hour on average for him to water, pluck the weeds, redistribute fertilizer, and remark the charts where he keeps track of their watering. Finally he feeds himself a hearty breakfast before starting out on the town. Depending on the day he'll hand out his stones or simply chat with friends. On occasion he'll treat himself to something from the local bakery before starting back home. After a long day of socializing he'll unwind by beginning new brews. Many of his recipes require him to boil, chill, or let liquids settle for a number of days before he is able to finish the last steps. Once done he has dinner, showers, and retires to bed with a smile on his face.

Recipes
The yellowed pages of his potion book flutter in a breeze wafting through his window. The curtains billow wildly before relaxing back against the soft cream walls. A few pages turn, showing various recipes.

Pluck a fresh rose off of a bush and put its petals into a bowl. Crush
them before adding a few ounces of water. Mix them together fully.
If you're using this on someone else you will need to have something
relating to them [a hair, a nail clipping, a bit of blood, etc] for your
potion. You will want to add in a circle of twine for strength. Make
sure the knot is tied as tightly as possible! Have a piece of paper to
write the person's name on in black ink. Put the name paper on top
of the mixture and let it soak. Light four red candles around the pot
and allow to soak overnight. Strain the potion and let them drink it.

Add a pound of crushed four leaf clovers to three cups of river water.
Pour the mixture into a bowl made of pure iron, make sure it is true
iron and has no other metal inside of it. Add in seven wishbones and
allow the pot to boil on a flame for around an hour. Stir with rabbit's
foot [must be shot in a graveyard otherwise it's not lucky]. Strain the
ingredients before drinking it.

Hand pick dandelions and blow off the seeds into a bowl. Add in pinches
of mint leaves before pouring both into a generic tea bag [leave other
herbs inside, it will help mask the flavor of the dandelion fuzz]. Dip it
into a hot cup of water and all in maple syrup. Make the tea and drink
whenever desired.

For this you'll need equal parts of dried passionflower and valerian root.
Both substances should be dry and ground down into small pieces, not
powders. Mix them both in a jar of water before closing the lid. Atop
the container place a smoky quartz crystal then let it soak for three
days. Strain out the passionflower and valerian root before drinking.

Moodboard

Notes
Sorry this is a mildly long post, I had a lot of fun doing it. Bella belongs to me and Edward is a kalon used with permission from his owner toadkind. Good luck to everyone entering <33

[iBrevity]

[art by waterfront]

username ;;
iBrevity

name ;;
Medea

gender ;;
female

adventure ;;
Medea's mother gave her to the god of the woods when she was but five. She knows there must have been a time when her mother held her to her chest and pet her hair and promised her things would one day be better but her earliest memory is that of the god swaddling her in sheepskin and carrying her away.

He left her in a copse of birch trees that grew so closely together their pale bark mimicked moonlight even at the height of the day. He did not say anything, simply set her down among the roots and turned away. She did not follow for fear of losing the way and for an entire night she sat swathed in the mulch of trees long gone and cried. She did not understand why her mother had relinquished her; she did not understand why the god had abandoned her. She was young and scared and very, very alone.

She woke to the same murky half-darkness of the day before with the innate knowledge that the trees had somehow moved closer to her. They crowded her dangerously now; she was wedged between the thin spindly trunks of a half-dozen of them, and she feared she would not be able to stand for the roots that grew interwoven beneath her. She breathed shallowly through her mouth, fighting her overwhelming fear, and it was then that the trees began to talk.

They whispered to her of storms happening countries away, of droughts, of famine. They told her stories, secrets, gossip; they told her of the world around her, of the animals that slept between their branches, of the dark things that lurked among their feet. They told her the god would be back soon; they told her, he likes it when they're afraid, so don't be.

When the god returned two days later the trees had resumed their usual posts and Medea sat solemnly in the same spot he had placed her. There was a shallow clearing around her now, enough room to move but she did not; simply waited and watched and tried very hard to remember what the trees had told her.

The god stooped before her. He was a shadow of a man, too long in some spots, short in others. His slender legs appeared to end in cloven hooves, but when she looked too closely at them they warped into bare toes. He had a halo of antlers around his head that she could not rightly tell was crown or growth, and his eyes were a startling yellow that pulsed eerily with color in much the same way as the trees. She looked at his mouth instead, which seemed to be the most human aspect of him, and tried to gain glimpses of his fangs when he spoke.

"What is your name, child?"

There, she thought. His tongue moved snake-like against teeth that narrowed into sharp points, as she'd suspected. She took a deep breath and remembered what the trees had told her and raised her chin :geek: and said steadily, "Medea."

He was quiet for a long moment and she was afraid to look into his eyes and find his expression lacking. Before she could discover the courage he said, "Did the trees speak to you?" She thought she heard surprise in his voice, maybe a thin thread of anger; but the trees had told her not to be afraid, and she refused the rising tide of fear that churned her empty belly.

"Yes," she said. An idea seized her and she said fiercely, "They told me I would be your apprentice. They said you wouldn't hurt me."

The god turned his head to look at the trees as though they might protest this lie, but they said nothing. Their leaves shushed as the wind coaxed them together and they offered no advice to his probing gaze. Medea was glad; the trees had said no such thing to her, and she had been uncertain that they wouldn't tell the god the truth.

He looked back at her and stood finally, set his hands on his crooked knees. "Fine," he said. "Then you will be my apprentice, Medea. You may call me Pan."

+++++


[art by The Pirate Dragon]

And so Medea grew older, and Pan taught her of the trees. "Not all of them speak," he said idly one morning, after Medea had spent an hour trying to convince an oak to talk with her. She glared at him over her thin shoulder and he turned away, said, "And not all of them tell the truth."

So she was more careful with which trees she believed, and which trees she asked the more important questions; what is Athens doing, how is my mother. The birch trees that had warned her of Pan would bend in the wind and whisper to one another and tell her, Athens burns, or, your mother lives where the trees are sleeping.

Medea learned of the woodland creatures, the ones that came to Pan without fear, for help or a comforting hand. She learned how to remove from their hides a careless hunter's mark; a stray arrow that served only to wound, a line of wire that set their ankles to the unsteady gait of a child. She slept curled in the roots of the birch trees and surrounded by the animals she had helped, deer, coyote, wolves, bears, birds. In Pan's glade none fought, and Medea slept soundly to the lullaby of their rhythmic breathing.

She learned how to make clothes and how to braid her hair and how to avoid the eyes of the people she infrequently bumped into; how to turn when they saw her and how to run, the trees ushering her faster with rolling roots and urgent murmurings. She was older and still allowed only down the hill to the shrines the peasants left for Pan when he gave her a gift, the first one he had ever deigned to. He called her to him and they met in the cove where she lived, curled up beneath the birch trees and the distant stars. Despite her growing, he was still significantly taller than her and cast a long and wiggling shadow.

"Here, Medea," he said, passing into her hands some quivering thing that promptly bit her thumb. She ground her teeth to stop the reflexive cry, glaring at Pan through watery eyes. He seemed amused, inasmuch that one corner of his mouth lifted a few creeping centimeters.

"He's yours now," he said. "Do with him what you will."

She waited to look until Pan had left her again, and then she sat against her favorite tree and opened a crack in her fingers. A beady eye looked back at her, and she was rewarded for her curiosity with another sharp bite at the juncture of thumb and palm.

"Ouch," she said sharply, still looking at the nestling who rolled about in her palm. "You're mean." But she said it with great affection, for Medea had never had something that was hers before, and even Pan had said that the bird belonged singularly to her.

She named him Jason after a story she thought she remembered her mother telling her and mashed up bugs to feed him and pet him when his feathers came in and he grew irritable and itchy. When he began to fly she encouraged him from the ground and asked the trees to be kind, for he was young and his flight pattern unsteady; and he found unusually safe branches to rest on, and bark rich with little scurrying beetles.

They grew strangely close. She walked every morning to the shrine that had been left at the foot of an ancient maple in dedication to Pan and she collected whatever people had left, and Jason rode on her shoulder and preened her hair and croaked contentedly into her ear. She got used to no longer being alone, for Pan left for months at a time and the solitude was alleviated now with Jason's animated youth. She did not mind so much being so isolated, although the trees told her strange things when she asked of Athens and said nothing understandable when she asked after her mother.

+++++

One day something extraordinarily different happened. Medea woke at her usual time and gathered Jason into the crook of her arm and walked to the shrine, as she did every day. She encountered nothing strange on her way there, and she entertained Jason by rolling him onto his back and ruffling the feathers on his stomach. She stepped from the trees with a quiet laugh, her attention on the bird cradled in her arms, and startled when a young voice said with great wonderment, "You're real."

Medea jerked so badly Jason leapt from her arms, and she stared wide-eyed at the boy who had spoken as he resettled on her shoulder. The stranger could be no more than fifteen and he was wholly unfamiliar to her. The longer she stared the bigger his grin grew.

"My grandpa told me you were real," he said, "But I didn't believe him. He said, there's this beautiful girl who comes from the woods and gets the offerings from the shrine and she never grows old." He laughed shrilly, nervously. "Of course I didn't believe him! Who would believe that?"

Medea's mouth went down into a tentative frown. The boy spoke no language she understood but she could read his body language well enough, and he did not seem aggressive. She took a few hesitant steps backward, into the shelter of the woods, and the boy lifted a hand to stay her. "You'll come back, right? Tomorrow?"

Medea looked at his hand and his hopeful eyes and his ax, some twenty feet behind him. She made herself breathe, made the harsh line of her shoulders relax, and when the boy seemed satisfied that she would not run she turned and bolted. Jason flew ahead of her, encouraging her to run faster, and she left behind the strange boy and his strange words.

She did not go to the shrine for a long time afterward and when she finally did go, looking carefully into the clearing where the shrine squatted, she saw only the ax the boy had left behind covered with a fine sheen of moss. She convinced herself that she was relieved she would not have to see him again.

+++++


[art by Owl Trowel]

Eventually, as all children do, Medea yearned to leave the copse and see the world for herself. She was sullen when Pan spoke to her, irritable with the chore of his shrine, anxious to see another person in the woods who might remind her that it was not only her and the trees and the birds. She spent long lonely evenings with the trees, stroking Jason's narrow black head, whispering to the birch grove what she so desperately wanted.

"What is the world like nowadays?" She asked one night, with Jason cradled to her sternum. "What are the people doing?"

The trees spoke lowly to one another, as they often did before answering her, their leaves filling the clearing with a susurrus of noise. Finally the trees said, The world goes on. People do as they have always done.

Medea groaned and wedged herself in lower between the roots. "I want to leave," she said fiercely, finally voicing the idea she had been nursing for so long. "I want to get away from here, from him. I want..." She paused, and thought, and knew of the way the trees could rearrange themselves at will, how the forest could become a labyrinth within one breath and the next, how the woods could be especially kind to those it loved.

Medea lifted her head and placed a hand over the birch's smooth trunk. "I want you to help me," she said seriously. "Help me leave."

The trees whispered, moonlight carding through their leaves like pale silk. They did not immediately answer her but she knew what they would say; she knew these trees, and they would not refuse her. The grove quieted until Medea's ears were full of the sound of her own breathing and the trees said, We will help you, Medea.

+++++

And so Medea prepared to run. She gathered up the few things she could, an additional toga, a fur shawl pieced together from wolves she had felled with her bow. The bow itself would be too conspicuous (Pan would notice it missing in a heartbeat) but the trees promised her she could make another. She went barefoot, as she always had, and left behind those silver pieces Pan had occasionally put around her neck. The shine was not worth the weight, for she would be fleeing once Pan understood that she had gone.

She braided her hair among the birch trees for the final time, when morning light seeped sluggishly through the treetop and cast the bark in champagne hues. Into the hair she placed the tokens she had stolen; a handful of long, black feathers that Jason had shed over the years, a string of beads she'd pocketed from Pan's shrine, a leather strap she had cut from the hide of a beast when she'd been but a child. She lay her braid against her collar and touched it for a moment, studied the colors and skill; and then she took the hunting knife Pan had left her, and she sawed it off where the hair curled against the nape of her neck.

It must be done, the trees said as she cut, fisting the braid in her hand to keep it steady. He must not find you.

She left the hair coiled like a pale snake in the den where he slept, a goodbye that would never be spoken. And then she gathered her things and shouldered her cloak and began to run.

+++++

It did not take long for Pan to realize she was gone. She was moving at a sedate pace, scarcely breathing hard, the trees quiet around her; and then suddenly she heard a distant screaming, and the oak closest to her said, Run.

She did not hesitate but rather burst into a wild dash, Jason launching himself from her shoulder into croaking flight. As she ran the roots buried themselves beneath her feet, the branches bent out of the way, the leaves kicked up by her escape resettled to cover her prints. Behind her she could hear Pan's rage and the woods shivered with it; but she kept running nonetheless, and the trees upheld their promise. She ran blind, followed reflexively the directions the trees gave her, Turn left here, Run through this creek. Above her Jason called out dangers, wolves or other predators they had startled with her exit, and she swerved to avoid a confrontation she did not have time for.

"Medea!" She heard once, some hours after the first endless shouting. "Come back! Medea!"

She grit her teeth and thought of the childhood spent alone under the trees and kept running. Eventually she ran out of places to go and the trees dropped away from her and it was only her and Jason and a long stretch of grass; and ahead a small copse of birches, unrelated to those who had raised her, whispering softly, Come to us.

She took refuge beneath their moonlight bark, slept cradled in roots with Jason tucked against the rise of her shoulder. When the sun rose and the trees said quietly, You must go farther east, she rose from her bed and started to run.

The passing of time faded from her comprehension. She ran until she was tired and then she lay beneath reticent trees and got up and ran again. Jason was her constant companion, leading her to fresh water, to berry bushes, to easy, fat prey. The woods no longer spoke to her and she saw no birches but she remembered what the last had said and so she kept the sun to her back. When finally she emerged from the woods she had to sit to catch her breath for what rose before her made no sense. Jason circled like a black halo, settled on her shoulder with a concerned noise. Medea absently touched her hand to his slender head.

"Jason," she said softly, her voice worn thin with disuse. "Where are we?"

Rising before her was more metal than she had ever seen. Great silver slabs of it set to burnished red by the sun, towers rising unfathomable heights into the sky. Medea, who remembered the white columns of Athens, the straw bed she'd slept in, her mother's favorite toga, marveled at what lay before her. Distantly she could see and hear people, more people than she had ever seen, hundreds or perhaps even thousands of them. They wore strange clothes and spoke a language that she could not grasp but they were recognizably like her. She crouched in the shadow of the last tree that stood on the edge of modern civilization and wished fiercely for a birch so that she might ask more precisely what had happened in the world since she had been gone.


[aesthetic piece by Wesley]

[DecafBunny]

╔════════════════╗
xxUsername Juliet.
xx Kalon Name Fable
xxGender Female
╚════════════════╝

╔════════════════╗

Art by Me
╚════════════════╝
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Story ::
There once was a lady who could talk to the stars. They would whisper kind words to her and she would tell them stories about life on her planet. One day, when the stars whispered to her, she didn’t whisper back. They called out for her, asking why she was ignoring them. Overwhelmed with sadness, she started to sob, she told them the bad news she had received today; that she was dying. The stars light fell upon her, she looked up at them, her face wet from weeping. This saddened the stars tremendously, seeing their close friend that they watched grow, in such pain and agony.

One star spoke out, They knew of a way to fix her problem but it would be a difficult and exhausting journey. The lady sniffed and wiped her tears away, she smiled at the stars who shone bright just for her that night and said thank you. The rest of the night they discussed the plan and she fell asleep as the morning light began to light up the sky.

The next evening, the lady packed the supplies that she would need. She grabbed a bag, put a jacket, some food and a few water bottles in it. She then decided to grab her favorite jar that she had received from her mother for good luck. She walked out of her apartment and locked it, not knowing when she’d return. The lady had to follow the stars instructions to go a point high enough to where the star could come down to earth and carry her off.

The lady had went to the bus stop to wait for the last bus to take her to the top of a hill about 30 miles out. It’s there where the star told her meet them; the place where she first talked to them. The bus arrived a few minutes later than usual, which irritated a little since she was quite anxious. She was so terrified of dying and not knowing what would happen and where she would go. She couldn’t help but tear up as the thought popped up in her head that she may never see her parents again. Sadly, she had left her phone as she thought she wouldn’t need it. She looked outside the window, noticing that they had passed the street her parent’s lived. Tears began to drip from her eyes as she mouthed goodbye out the window.

It took an hour for the bus to reach the hill. She thanked the bus driver even though he had an emergency and couldn't take her all the way up like planned. She started on her trek up the hill. By the time she reached the top the sun had set and the moon was high in the sky. She sighed, flung her bag onto the ground and flopped down beside it.

A bright light suddenly appeared in the sky above her and slowly made its way down to earth and in front of her. She quickly stood up, nearly blinded by the surge of light. She had never seen such a pretty sight so close up before. The stars were so beautiful from far away but now the sight she had loved for so long didn’t even compare to the one in front of her. The star spoke, louder than she was used to which made her jump back. They asked her one serious question which was “Are you sure that you want to do this? It’ll be a treacherous journey.” The lady gulped and nodded, she knew she had to try no matter what the consequences were. That was all the confirmation the star needed and they lowered themselves to the ground.

She climbed onto the star that was three times her size. The lady’s fur began to sparkle and began to change. Her once monochromatic fur now changed to a soft pink and vibrant purple. Oddly though, since her hair covered one of her eyes, one of her eyes stayed the same grey. She looked down at her paws, now full of color. She gasped and exclaimed, “ I-I’m purple!” The star apologized immediately saying that was a side effect to the stardust that allowed them to fly.

The star told the lady of the story and how to supposedly save her. - wip-
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
By AmberLilli


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

🌠 Anything by this composer.
They're very calming and original.
🌠 It's by the composer above.
I thought it was very fitting for the beginning of the story.
🌠 Music boxes always reminds me of stars twinkling.
🌠 By the top composer but
I think It's more fitting towards the end of her story.

X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X

Coding Credit

[Roobuzz]

Username: Roobuzz
Name: Mauve
Gender: Female
Adventure:
What's that? You want to hear about my super-mega-awesome journey?
......Yes you do. Don't deny it.
Well, whether you want to or not, you're going to hear it!
So I was wandering through the Fugitive Forest- oh, sorry! I should explain what that is. The Fugitive Forest was named after becoming enchanted by a fugitive from the city beside it. She'd been banished from the city when they'd found out that she could bring anything to life. She herself hadn't known, but she accidentally brought an entire skyscraper to life.
Okay, that's a story for another time!
Anyways, I was traveling through the Fugitive Forest because I wanted to capture a living rock on video. Whenever I tell anybody of my magical adventures, they scoff and tell me to grow up. What better way to prove my friend, Aristotle, wrong than to get a video to prove it! No more "science is the only magic" now, Aristotle!
Sorry... Again. So I had my video camera and was totally ready to get a video of the rocks, but I sat and sat and sat and nothing happened. I probably looked completely stupid, sitting there and video taping rocks. After... I don't know, an hour or so, I set the camera in a tree to get a snack from my bag. I was just digging through my trail mix when I was lifted into the air! The tree that I had put my camera had-
What?! Stop giving me that look and just listen!
Like I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, the tree had apparently become angry with me. Maybe it was the fact that I put a camera in it, or maybe it didn't like the song I was singing to myself. It was swinging me around in the air, and I was completely panicking. It was a little embarrassing, but I mean, I was being swung through the air by a living faceless tree!
I lashed out at the tree, and kept kicking until the branch partly broke and was hanging at a 90° angle. I fell to the ground- see this bruise? That's where I got it from! ...No, I didn't get it from kicking the vending machine. That was the other one, right here.
After it had dropped me, I scurried to the camera- to find that it had been smashed! It was getting dark, and a bunch of little glowing pixies surrounded me. I thought they'd be friendly like they are in the movies, but they drew out tiny bows and arrows and told me to run home immediately or they'd attack. I kinda laughed. Okay, I really laughed. They were just so tiny, and- heh- sorry, just a sec.
Okay, anyways! They shot me with their little bows all at once, and although it didn't hurt, I slowly slipped into blackness. When I had woken up, I was in my bed. They must have brought me home.
What do you mean?! Of course it wasn't a dream! Of course it wasn't- augh! I should've known that you wouldn't believe me. It happens every time I try to tell anyone of my adventures- which happen a lot. I have some sort of magical destiny- I just know it, whether you want to believe me or not!
Oh- and there you go. Bye, I guess?

[nah]

res with a character stuck in an ice block

[friggin' foxes]

Username: 9TailedFox
Name: Shot
Gender: Male
Adventure: He saved the world from evil bald people who wanted to make everyone in the world bald! Lucklily he won and the world rejoiced!

[Phina Wolf]

Username: Phina Wolf
Name: Joseph Trent Rowan
Gender: male
Adventure:

WIP!

[hayakawa]

res!

[rubixilam]

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

xxx

✣ rυвιχιlαм | ανα | fємαlє ✣

xx.....xx

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

xxAn ocean breeze rustles the coastal grass and Ava’s fur, embedding the salty smell in her skin. She inhales and digs her toes deeper into the wet sand, letting the salt water saturate her toes. A cliff of columnar basalt stands tall in front of her. A bit further down sits a small hole that seems to lead to a cave. She wonders how she hadn’t seen the small entrance before. Upon close inspection at first discovery, it smelled oddly like freshwater, which didn’t make much sense. Wouldn’t it have a salty smell? Half of the cliff is in the ocean after all. She’d told Fagan to meet up with her soon. Where was he?
xx“I betcha there’s a big ol’ monster in there.’ Ava turns to see Fagan gracelessly making his way to her. Sloppily kicking water up, he smirks at her surprised expression.
xx“I’m sure there’s nothing too terrible in there.” Tail swishing, she fully turns to face him with a mischievous smile. She pulls her paws out of the sand and shakes them off a bit. “You can follow me, unless you’re afraid of what might be in there. I’m going in either way though, whether you come or not.”
xxHe huffed, “Nah, I’m comin’. Thought it’d be a fair warning though. That way I can be guiltless should you die.”
xxThe two of them made their way closer to the cave entrance. It was rather small, and just about big enough to fit a small kalon through if they crawled.
xx“You say this is a cave entrance? I didn’t even see this thing. I thought we were gonna go around to another side of the cliff or something."
He crouched and peered through the hole in the cliff. “What’s that light at the end?”
xx“Something that has light. Which is why I called it a cave entrance. It goes somewhere.” She gently pushed him aside, though the shove was still enough to sending him toppling into the sand. She crouched and peered through the hole.
xx“Well, it doesn’t look very safe,” He stood and shook his fur. “Are you just going in there with no plan or safety or anything?”
xx“Sure. Stay here though, cause if I have to get out real fast for some reason, I don’t want your slow butt in my way.”
xx“I’m not THAT slow.”

xxAva smiled as she started crawling through the tunnel. It didn’t seem to thin out anywhere or suddenly drop off to her death, which seemed like a good sign. The slight glow from the end came closer and closer, and she popped her head out to a massive cavern. Her mouth hung open, gaping, and she craned her head up to the ceiling hundreds of feet above. Emerging from the tunnel, she took in the scene. Columnar basalt twisted over the walls and ceiling of the cave, moss growing richly over almost every inch of the pillars. Plants resembling lily pads floated through the air, their long roots glowing a faint sort of turquoise. Much of the floor was covered in thick moss. Some patches of grass peeked through. She stopped and stared, completely zoned out, until she heard a small voice echo back down the tunnel. “You alright in there?” Snapping out of her daze, she started heading back towards the tunnel entrance, looking behind her as she walked.
xx“Yeah, I’m alright. Come in here.” She heard him huffing and scuffling as he squeezed through the tunnel and emerged.
xx“Oh.” She smiled at his hanging mouth.
The two of them made their way deeper into the cavern, both of their faces awestruck. Tall glowing flowers, or plants, or whatever they were, sprouted together in clumps, mostly next to the large boulders jutting out of the ground here and there. “I guess it was a cave.” About a hundred feet from the entrance, the ground started to dip down and led into a deep depression. A massive tree sat sort of in the middle of the grassy area. Many of the lilies were caught in the leaves and gave off a bright luminescence. Further into the depression and a bit to the left sat a pool of water up against the wall of the cave. There was no saltwater smell from it.
xx“That’s gotta be at least twenty feet across at the trunk.” Ava walked over to the thick twisting branches, unaware that her friend had stopped following her. A loud splash resonated from behind, and she whipped around to find Fagan surfacing in the pool.
xx“Fagan! You don’t know if that’s safe to be in!”
xx“Nah it’s fine! I tasted it, it’s just regular water.”
xx“You-you don’t go putting random liquids in your mouth! What if that hadn’t been water?”
xx“Well, it smelled like it. Does water even have a smell? It smelled like what water sort of smells like. Like, y’know that weird smell. Think creek or spring water. And it looks like it too, minus the weird glowing thing going on.” Well, he didn’t seem to be dying in any way. That’s a good thing. Ava plopped herself down next to the pool, putting her front paws in the water. “You gonna come in?”
xx“Probably not. At least until I know more about it. You should get out of there.” Fagan kicked off the wall by Ava and started stroking around in small circles.
xx“Nope. This stuff feels great. I feel less sticky already.”
xx“Sticky?”
xx“Yeah, salt water is sticky. I like freshwater better.”
xxThe two talked for a while and enjoyed the relaxing place. A sudden small chirp echoed in the cavern, interrupting their conversation. Both heads whipped to the direction of the sound. Fagan swam over to the edge and crawled out of the water.
xx“Think it’s a bird?”
xx“Maybe it’s a glowing bird.”
xx“I don’t think there are glowing birds, Fagan.” A small figure swooped down over their heads, making them duck. Ava started feeling uneasy at the unknown creature, though Fagan seemed curious, if not excited. It landed in the tree and chirped again, then stuck it’s head out.
xx“A lizard? Can lizards fly?”
xx“Dragons? Dragons can, but I don’t think-“ The creature swooped down again and tackled Fagan, earning a yelp from both kalons. It only pushed Fagan over though, and hopped right back off of him and landed nearby, now visible.
xx“That is indeed a dragon.”
xx“Dragons don’t exist though? Maybe it’s just a new lizard or something.”
xx“I’m still gonna call it a dragon.” Fagan slowly started going up to it.
xx“Oiy! Don’t go up to it!” Ava reached to pull him back.
xx“He’s small! He’s just a bit smaller than you, in fact. I doubt he’d hurt me. C’mere lil’ dude. You’re cute. What are…” The dragon let out a series of shrill clicking and jumped up, flipping in the air and circling the two kalons. Two more came from the shadows of the cavern.
xx“Oh dear.”
xxAva drew closer to Fagan, expecting an ambush. Maybe they could get out if they grouped together and somehow avoided an attack. She prepared herself for them to stalk and pounce. All she got though was three little dragon lizards excitedly jumping about them. They seemed curious.
xx“Oh?” Fagan yet again reached his paw out, and the first one reached it’s snout out and nudged his paw, then squeaked and flew up.
“They seem really playful,” He smiled at Ava and pulled her with him towards the creatures. She still felt unease about it, although she noticed their behavior was much like a dolphins. Maybe they were harmless, after all. One craned their neck close to her.
xx “Watch out, he may rip your arm off” He winked at her.
xx“He may very well do that if he wants to.” It rubbed it’s head against her paw.
xx“We better take you to the doctor now before you bleed out, that looks really bad.” She squinted at him and he chuckled at her.
xx“Buh."

all art by me

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Hobbies ;;

Collecting driftwood. Ava likes collecting driftwood and putting it on display in her home. She has a wide variety of redwood, cedar, wreckage wood, oak, and whatever else just happens to wash up.

Aquarium keeping. Most of her collection consists of saltwater, though she has some freshwater tanks as well. She get’s her fish, corals, sand, rock, etc straight from the ocean. She prefers soft corals over hard for her tanks.

Bullet journalling. Ava found that keeping a regular diary or planner was too tasking. And she had tried multiple times to keep it up. She has found that bullet journalling doesn’t seem to drain her motivation, and she enjoys keeping it.

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Ava grew up happily by the coast with a loving family. She had some friends her age, though she never really actively seeked them out. She appreciated them, though didn’t realize until later that it would’ve been a good idea to be with them a bit more. Before that realization, she focused most of her time on exploring the beach and note taking. Later in life though, her family had to move away from the beach to the mountains. Eventually, she grew to care for her new home and would still go out on hikes and do studies, take notes, log, all that jazz, but she never got over the sea. Her fish tanks and collections never seemed to be enough for her. However, she still continued exploring and doing her personal studies and logging, and dedicated a new bookshelf to holding what she found in the woods. Notes on animal behavior, what seemed most common, plant species, seasonal responses, and a new friend. Well, the new friend stayed out of her bookshelf, but she did find him among her new discoveries. She met Fagan while hiking one day, and the two started meeting up for daily walks through the woods. It turned out Fagan had wanted to go back to the redwoods, which was close to where she lived by the coast. Eventually once old enough, the two moved out with sad goodbyes to their families and went back to where they belonged. They are still close to each other, and regularly visit.
I HATE SCHOOLWORK THIS IS LATE AND I AM SO SORRY

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

The cave is based off of one of my favorite dreams. That place was gorgeous ;o;

[dorayaki]

ahhh res with surviving alone in the woods for a week :") in journal format!