[pedunkle]

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Items: ribbon and bell

username: avril-showers
storage thread: thrashing waters
hound name: Ori // "The Oil Rivers Flow"
coloration: wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: female
age: 7 yrs 5mo
collar color: eye colour // black and grey swirls

feelings surrounding art:

_______________________
she trotted through the lone sidewalks.
her nose grazed against the toned out bricks,
there it was, the museum. now, the hardest
part about this plan, how was she going to get in-?
the street lights flickered against her wired,
dirty, fur. oh no,,, there he was again, the broom
man. his tattered shoes stomped against the sad
sidewalk. swish swoosh, the bristles scratched
against the man-made floor, swish, swoosh,
the old broom continued.

she could really picture it ! the soft airs whacking
silently against the rasp bark of the old, oaks.
the bristles of the short, used, brush gliding across
the dented canvas. Where the grass stood high,
almost the same size as the towering oaks ! oh-
the plan ! nearly forgot, well- it would be fine to
save for the next day- right ? I guess so, but wait,
i mean, she's been planning this plan for so long !
how could she just graze over it ?

the room man stomped over, like a
cyclops, tramping over a tiny wooden village.
crushing their crops, cracking their cackling
fires. his aggravated eye darted about,
skimming over those poor people-
oh yeah- the plan- i mean, if she had to be honest,
was this plan even,,, do-able ? it looked great in
her head, well, might as well give it a try,,

Ori's eager attitude wouldn't let her give up on this,
it was a dream come true ! you wouldn't miss out
on one of your dreams, right ? "Oriii~, come
on doll, its time to film !" shiny black shoes came from the corner,
" ah-! there you are, where have you been ? its time to shoot
your part ! you're going to be a star !
how have you gotten this dirty already, anyways ? "

oh, poor man~ he would never understand.

this pups coat seems to bear a resemblance to starry night by van gogh, what is their feelings surrounding art? no restrictions on extras
ENDS 25TH DEC

snowflake has a 35% pass rate when bred to a non. a 65% pass rate when bred to another snowflake

Code: Select all

[b]username:[/b]
[b]storage thread:[/b]
[b]hound name:[/b]
[b]coloration:[/b]wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
[b]sex:[/b]
[b]age:[/b]
[b]collar color:[/b]
[b]feelings surrounding art:[/b]


lineage
------------------------------------------ SSS: Foundation
----------------- SS: Foundation
------------------------------------------ SSD: Foundation
Sire: Foundation
------------------------------------------ SDS: Foundation
----------------- SD: Foundation
------------------------------------------- SDD: Foundation

------------------------------------------ DSS: Foundation
----------------- DS: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DSD: Foundation
Dam: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DDS: Foundation
----------------- DD: Foundation
------------------------------------------ DDD: Foundation

[Wileyfangs]

username: Wileyfangs
storage thread: Seven Nation Army
hound name: Bora
Swahili for "the Best"
coloration: wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: Male
age: 3 years, 7 mos
collar color: Artist's choice
feelings surrounding art:

It makes no sense. Everyday he poses for the same artists,
every day he views the same workings of himself, though
motions stilled in time. He neither recognizes or values
the creature in the picture, the smell of oil paints and
strange substances all complied together on the scent of dead trees.

He's just not into it. Some may say he's closed minded, but after day in
and day out of sitting statue still for humans, he's bored. Art isn't taking
a picture and capturing it in one single moment or snapshot. The world
makes art every day, though it is fleeting. But this was eons ago.

Now Bora wishes he had the same luxury. His trainer is gone, but he clings
still to the hope left in his collar, the phantom feeling of a hand through his fur,
a drum line of pats along his side. The occasional, "Good boy" even. The red
dirt cakes along his fur, making darkened blue bleed to red. In his jaws, the body
of a stolen piece of prey, hunger a hollow pain in his belly, all around him the snap
and crackle of teeth and bone as the pack eats. The pecking order is ignored,
blood and meat ripped apart by savage fangs

It makes no sense to view this as beauty, he thinks watching the sharpened white
flash of teeth as the pack begins to close in together and he joins them with his
catch dangling from his jaws. Yet it is, painfully beautiful. A struggle. A captured
moment in his eye.

[enokimoon]

username: s-smolbean
storage thread: Plains of Freedom
hound name: Réiltín \\ meaning " star " in Irish \\ The Ringing of the Bells
coloration:wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: Female
age: 6 years \\ Birthday on December 25
collar color: pale orange gradient with a star tag
feelings surrounding art:


Art.

It is in everything- if she chooses to see it in that light.
Art is not bound to one definition, medium, or form.
Rei believes as much, yes.

When she wants to, she can see the beauty in things as if they were made to be the masterpieces of an artist, even if they were not made to be so. Tracks in the soil left by some creature ? That could be art to her, yes. The way a dragonfly's wings look like the stained glass windows of one of the cathedrals she'd passed by before she was brought to the plains she resides in now ? Art, done by the master of it- Mother Nature.

Yes, all of these could be considered art to her. But one form of it certainly had her in its grasp.

Indeed, she liked paintings and drawings and sculptures, the type she used to witness the majesties of when she lived her life as a rich man's dog. She remembered when she was first brought to a museum, Rei adored that place. Very peaceful, very bizarre to have been brought to. Some pieces were of real life, picturesque paintings or sorts, and sculptures that seemed to be exact replicas of whatever they were modeled after. But there were also those of the avant garde sort, or those with an abstract meaning that she knew others would interpret differently.

Indeed, seeing the craftsmanship Mother Nature herself offered the world was unlike any other- and the expertise in the art of evolution and such was a beauty to behold in itself. Rei thought no artist could rival the mastery that nature had in its possession. Why, it even made fine specimen such as her. There was no denying that Rei could be vain sometimes, but rightfully so- she was indeed a beautiful sight to behold.

Indeed, Rei thought that being able to seize a certain moment exactly as it is with the simple click of a camera used for the art of photography was mesmerizing to think of.

Indeed, she thought poetry and prose were lovely to read and listen to in being spoken. A world being brought to life in her imagination as the words flowed in through her ears and began to paint pictures in her mind.

But her true passion was in music.

It made her happy like nothing else in the world ever could. If she had the body of a human, she would dance the night away to her favorite tunes- those being classical music, songs that set the standard of beauty, yes. Sometimes, she would spend the day away listening to the music that she was able to bear witness to, and she would feel complete. Rei's soul only longed for it- her bones ached for the sweet melodies, even though she would already be listening to such songs.

One might think; " a dog ? with a taste in art ? how absurd. " And yet, they might not know what could be going on in the mind of such a complex creature- Reiltin is living proof of such.

Now she lives out in the plains, yearning ever still to listen to her tunes once more.

For now, she's got the music of mother nature playing all around her, though she is thankful that she is still able to witness such sounds that may bring her joy from time to time.

Reiltin misses the songs.

won 111 qwq )
G'luck y'all !!
Prebby babey out here 😩💞

[qvril]

username: avril-showers
storage thread: thrashing waters
hound name: Ori // "The Oil Rivers Flow"
coloration: wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: female
age: 7 yrs 5mo
collar color: eye colour // black and grey swirls

feelings surrounding art:

_______________________
she trotted through the lone sidewalks.
her nose grazed against the toned out bricks,
there it was, the museum. now, the hardest
part about this plan, how was she going to get in-?
the street lights flickered against her wired,
dirty, fur. oh no,,, there he was again, the broom
man. his tattered shoes stomped against the sad
sidewalk. swish swoosh, the bristles scratched
against the man-made floor, swish, swoosh,
the old broom continued.

she could really picture it ! the soft airs whacking
silently against the rasp bark of the old, oaks.
the bristles of the short, used, brush gliding across
the dented canvas. Where the grass stood high,
almost the same size as the towering oaks ! oh-
the plan ! nearly forgot, well- it would be fine to
save for the next day- right ? I guess so, but wait,
i mean, she's been planning this plan for so long !
how could she just graze over it ?

the room man stomped over, like a
cyclops, tramping over a tiny wooden village.
crushing their crops, cracking their cackling
fires. his aggravated eye darted about,
skimming over those poor people-
oh yeah- the plan- i mean, if she had to be honest,
was this plan even,,, do-able ? it looked great in
her head, well, might as well give it a try,,

Ori's eager attitude wouldn't let her give up on this,
it was a dream come true ! you wouldn't miss out
on one of your dreams, right ? "Oriii~, come
on doll, its time to film !" shiny black shoes came from the corner,
" ah-! there you are, where have you been ? its time to shoot
your part ! you're going to be a star !
how have you gotten this dirty already, anyways ? "

oh, poor man~ he would never understand.

[kyum-]

username: kyum-
storage thread: zikar pd
hound name: wayne
coloration: wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: male
age: 5.5 years
collar color: artist choice

feelings surrounding art:
art is a reflection of its maker's heart interacting with those of the audience, he believes. it depicts the dreams and hopes, fantasies and distant thoughts. it conveys the inner turmoils and conflicts, as well as the calm serenity and joy of others. wayne is intrigued by every piece that tells a tale, pulling strings inside of him and drawing his attention to their every detail and message. of course, he doesn't always get the intended message correct - art is a communication; a two-way street with much that is open to interpretation. it captures one moment without context (unless written), and it could be interpreted in one way or the other.

wayne thinks of art as a wonder, a mystery that remains untold if unspoken. a silent yet powerful tool to bring about varied emotions depending on the maker's communicated notions.

personality:
as a pup, he was once an impulsive and rash little thing, rushing head first into the bowels of danger. as he aged, now a seasoned hound, wayne has mellowed into a wiser, more tactile and cunning adult, always strategic in ways to achieve his goal with minimal losses and maximum gains. he's quite a relaxed figure, strict when necessary, but otherwise an easygoing superior who can take a little mistake or two. he's an ambitious fellow, who has worked himself from the bottom of the ladder to superintendent of the zpd through the many gruelling days of hard work with the force.

it isn't like he didn't enjoy any part of his time with the department, of course - he remembers each case he has taken in detail, like they had each just happened yesterday, and he remembers all his seniors and juniors who had come and gone. they were difficult times, with many confronting moments and close shaves with death, but they were all fond memories he looks back to occasionally. and when he thinks back, he realises that he hasn't changed much from his younger days, despite his heightened experience and collected-ness. just like he had been, he still loves a good challenge, and reacts emotionally with each case that passes him by. he isn't on the field much, not anymore, but when he catches wind of something, he invests himself into it emotionally, working it to the best of his abilities.

his superiors may not like it - after all, it isn't the ideal mindset, nor is it professional - but wayne lives by a code: do as you do.

[pedunkle]

username: avril-showers
storage thread: thrashing waters
hound name: Ori // "The Oil Rivers Flow"
coloration: wire blue merle with irish white and snowflaking
sex: female
age: 7 yrs 5mo
collar color: eye colour // black and grey swirls

feelings surrounding art:

_______________________
she trotted through the lone sidewalks.
her nose grazed against the toned out bricks,
there it was, the museum. now, the hardest
part about this plan, how was she going to get in-?
the street lights flickered against her wired,
dirty, fur. oh no,,, there he was again, the broom
man. his tattered shoes stomped against the sad
sidewalk. swish swoosh, the bristles scratched
against the man-made floor, swish, swoosh,
the old broom continued.

she could really picture it ! the soft airs whacking
silently against the rasp bark of the old, oaks.
the bristles of the short, used, brush gliding across
the dented canvas. Where the grass stood high,
almost the same size as the towering oaks ! oh-
the plan ! nearly forgot, well- it would be fine to
save for the next day- right ? I guess so, but wait,
i mean, she's been planning this plan for so long !
how could she just graze over it ?

the room man stomped over, like a
cyclops, tramping over a tiny wooden village.
crushing their crops, cracking their cackling
fires. his aggravated eye darted about,
skimming over those poor people-
oh yeah- the plan- i mean, if she had to be honest,
was this plan even,,, do-able ? it looked great in
her head, well, might as well give it a try,,

Ori's eager attitude wouldn't let her give up on this,
it was a dream come true ! you wouldn't miss out
on one of your dreams, right ? "Oriii~, come
on doll, its time to film !" shiny black shoes came from the corner,
" ah-! there you are, where have you been ? its time to shoot
your part ! you're going to be a star !
how have you gotten this dirty already, anyways ? "

oh, poor man~ he would never understand.

Congrats and Merry Christmas!!!

[enokimoon]

!! Congrats Avril !! aaa

[qvril]

!!
Thank you so
much man
:weeps: