Fables ✧ Lore Prompts - Nov 1-15

[vel]

prompt: world - art / writing
entry:

prompt: character - art / writing
fable: (link)
entry:

[imabanditø]

prompt: world - writing
entry:

one would assume a place as lush as the grove would have beautiful views of each changing season. however, that is only somewhat true. being located inside a hollowed tree stump, the grove relies primarily on birds dropping in flora and the sky for their seasonal decor. you can typically see flighted fables soaring above as the sun rises, a daily tradition known simply as “the observations.” in which, the fables draw detailed pictures of the scenery beyond the natural walls to document the passage of time and to share the beauty with those unable to see it themselves.

though the seasons may not be as grand as expected, they definitely have an impact on daily life. spring is the favorite of most inhabitants, as found in a survey from the observationalists. flower petals of various species and colors tend to find their way inside the stump, which are used as garland for storefronts or turned into pigment. as the weather grows warmer, summer finds its way to the grove. many believe there’s nothing special about its effects; the most notable change is the commonly unbearable heat. on the other hand, others consider it a welcome break from the maintenance of other seasons.

autumn is similar to spring, making it the second favorite according to the aforementioned survey. leaves and acorns are the most abundant objects to grace the grove, generally used for umbrellas and containers, respectively. loyal autumn enthusiasts work their hardest to show that their season is best, but the drawback of preparing for winter is a major deterrent. this time is dreaded by most fables — due to the harsh conditions, it is mandatory to go into “hibernation;” a season-long retreat underneath the stump, dug out through generations. the hibernation can best be described as dystopian, with small rooms designated for local shopowners to continue business and larger ones for common areas, sleeping quarters, and storage for anything one could need. observationalists still document the winter months, but only the most experienced and their apprentices are entrusted with this role.

but, why? why go through all this effort for only a quarter of the year? the answer is simple: snow. due to the small size of the grove compared to its surroundings, the flakes, especially when piled up, can be dangerous. a white blanket tends to completely cover every surface at least once a year, making it difficult to even leave hibernation. it takes a whole herd of fables to open the door, and once they do, they’re greeted by winds much colder than the temperature underground. once spring rolls back around, the population rejoices. after assessing any damage, the annual spring festival begins as a celebration of hibernation’s end. [452 words]

prompt: character - writing
fable: vermine
entry:

the biggest change in vermine’s life occurred when they decided to banish themself from the rest of the grove. this choice was given months of thought, and once they were ready, they were determined to make it a reality. their journey was set to start during the spring festival; while everyone was busy celebrating, vermine used the opportunity to venture out towards the forest. instead of trees, the forests of the grove are populated by bushes and other low-lying plants. winding paths were maintained by the f.e.r.n. (forest and environment road network) committee, guiding fables throughout common areas of the grove.

vermine wasn’t going to follow the paths. they traversed through the dark tangle of shrubs for what felt like an eternity until they stumbled across a clearing. a doorway into the stump had been chewed by an unknown creature, and a cavern made of foraged sticks had been built and seemingly abandoned. ‘home,’ they thought. to this day, this is where they reside. it’s peaceful; free of the fables they trouble and the worries of future troubles. though they no longer have community, vermine has found self-reflection and acquaintances in the animals of prey that find their way to them. though they can’t communicate, vermine provides them refuge from predators, even though they probably would’ve stuck around regardless. sometimes, they find themself missing the noise and festivities of the grove. when those thoughts arise, they think back on everything they’ve learned about themself, including their longing, since banishment. ‘maybe one day i’ll go back,’ they repeat with no real desire to act. [266 words]

prompt suggestions:

— create a scrapbook or journal spread from the pov of your fable

— is it common for fables in your world to have pets? if so, what species do they tend to keep? what is it like to take care of them?

— what’s something your fable has lost? were they able to find it again?

[wind song]

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{ your fable is undergoing change }

prompt: character - writing
fable: [danje]
entry: [295 words] - self-insert as you please ;’))

“you’’ he smiles a toothy grin, eyes narrowed “slippery one, aren’t ya??’’.
the fable seems a little out of breath, his forehead sticky with chestnut locks. his frame, barely contained by the door, should be intimidating, but he comes across as rather clumsy.
“and you are…?’’ your question resounds less assuredly than you’d hoped. the whole situation is absurd - why would the collector be after your measly magic? he even sent his finest employee. an honor, truly. times like these, it’s better to play dumb.
“oi, you’re hurting my feelings here.’’ he pouts dramatically and finally steps through, sending vibrations through the floorboards, making your home feel even smaller. “it's danje. D-A-N-J-E!’’. a name exclaimed so earnestly, you feel the slightest twinge of guilt. he’s right in front of you now, eyeing the nook where you should be enjoying your dinner. quietly. alone.
“s-sit down then, I suppose’’. scratching your head, you make your way to the table and sink down opposite him. you’re unsure what to make of this bejeweled goon, you’d heard the rumors, but they don’t quite fit. sprawled out on the chair, danje yawns so wide, a high pitched squeak slips out. you almost laugh.
then the air shifts into an ominous hue. the change is so sudden it makes you nauseous. the sound of a palm slapping down turns you pale, and your guest leans in closer. he grasps his face, as if holding back the urge to reach out and curl a claw around your throat.
“got a pen, little bird?’’ danje chirps in a new voice. for the first time, you see his eyes clearly, swirling with a hellish flame. any trace of incompetence is gone. before you is a vulture, fixed on his food, deciding how to play.

✦

prompt: character - art
fable: [danje]
entry:



✦

future prompt ideas;
[world] place name origins; how did certain places get their name in your world?
[character] words and expressions; are there any sayings or words your fable(s) uses a lot?
[world] food culture; what are the local snacks, dishes and delicacies of your world? ♥

[Cammeraugepony]

prompt: character - writing
fable: The Kind One
entry: 449 words

prompt: character - writing
fable: Esila
entry: 353 words


Future prompt ideas:
Self image: How does your fable view themself? How does this compare with how others view them?
Lucky charms: Minor superstitions in your world, can be good or bad. Is it a common belief? Something only a select few believe?
No place like... : A location that means a lot to your fable. Is it real? Can they still go there?
Creature comforts: Something that never fails to lighten your fable's mood, even by just a touch.
Creepy crawlies: What are some creatures that are commonly ill-regarded in your world, and is that opinion warranted or not? (e.g. most people hate bugs even though they're irreplaceable in our ecosystems)

[kyeza]

prompt: character - writing
fable: sylas
entry:


leaving was difficult. more difficult than he'd ever thought it'd be, especially when the place he was leaving was one that'd been slowly sapping his sanity for decades, one that had driven him closer to madness than he'd ever come before. but it was still his home, where he'd lived since the day he was born, and where the one fable he'd sworn his life to protecting resided.

loviatar had aged kindly, her mane silken and her scales shining, but there was something in her gaze that brought sylas great sadness. there was a degree of fear there, on the rare occasions she'd confide in him, a layer of apprehension that clouded her and gave a distant look to her eyes. like she was there, but not really. in private moments, voices hushed and close, she would open up, let him see the side of her that was still a frightened child, the one he'd once consoled over lost toys and sad stories.

but growing old never came without consequences. when what was left of her family and the myrmourn nobility had defected before her very eyes, she was left to fill the gap. and, as he always had, sylas stood by her side, lifted a wing over her head when the rain trickled down and wiped tears away with a gentle hoof. the same steady presence he'd sworn on his life to be for her.

it definitely wore on him, though. it was a lot to dedicate your life to protecting one fable, and with each passing season, he grew more and more weary. he'd considered leaving for a good while. he'd mulled over the thought of distant horizons and starting his life anew, but he couldn't possibly abandon his charge like that, not when she was a young child still finding the ropes of leadership. and so he waited.

when she grew old enough, when she'd finally found her footing on her own and hadn't called upon him for assistance in a while, that was when he broached the topic. he kneeled, legs folded under him and head bowed, and asked her to absolve him of his duties. it was something she didn't hesitate for a moment to do. he didn't quite know what he'd expected, but it most certainly wasn't for her to give in so easily. but she was grown now, older and wiser, a powerful young leader. she didn't need him to watch her every move anymore, to guide her from the shadows. she could handle things here by herself.

he was free.

freedom wasn't something that came easy to him. it was cloyingly sweet, leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth. he felt aimless, drifting on a breeze that carried him north, far from the wyrmwood and its woes. he found himself in stormire before he even knew it, searching for a storefront that sold adventuring supplies. he'd longed to explore his whole life, and with his newly granted freedom, he could finally venture beyond felsthyr and out into the world at large.

he would go on to found an adventurer's guild in the capital city, a group of fables who explored beyond the bounds of faerendell, who ventured far out in the idyllwild. it'd become his passion project and he'd devote all his waking hours to it. it seems he couldn't live a life without dedicating it to something—or someone—after all.

[ 570 words ]


prompt: character - writing
fable: rhodeia
entry:


the inn was quiet tonight. the blizzard that had barraged the area the past few days had since faded into powdered snow, icicles lining the wooden beams outside and snowflakes drifting through the door when it opened, meaning that travelers had hit the road once more. the fire crackled on the far end of the lobby, kept alight by a stack of freshly chopped logs. it kept the room toasty, especially with the windows shut and the curtains drawn. the air was stagnant yet cozy.

caelith had ventured out to search for any stragglers following the blizzard settling down, and rho was left all alone to manage the inn in his stead. quiet nights meant loud thoughts, though, and the same ones as always plagued her. it'd been so long since she'd been a part of any society, so long since she'd been in a city full of fables. what would she give to have that kind of interaction again?

she shuddered. she needed to clear her head. it was too stuffy in here.

she crossed the lobby, heading for the back door, and slipped outside onto the patio. leaning on the railing, she let the cold envelop her, flakes of snow speckling the wine red of her hair with white. the chill crept in slowly but surely, though no shivers followed. she was used to the cold; that was what seasons upon seasons of living in the winterrim did.

but the even the cold couldn't bite back the flurry of thoughts that raced through her mind, and the view didn't help. now that the sky had cleared, the distant mountains were visible against the horizon, the city of stellaris situated atop a crested peak.

what would she give..?

it was then that she decided. anything. even her brother's sorrow couldn't quench her need to escape this idle life of innkeeps, each passing day driving her closer and closer to losing her sanity. she needed to know what else was out there, and today would be the day she found out.

i'm sorry, caelith, she murmured as she took a tentative step out into the snow. she turned to face the inn one last time before trudging forward, stellaris coming closer with every step.

[ 374 words ]



prompt suggestions! <3

world

• draw/describe your world's magic system! are there any particular sources of magic?
  
• draw/write about a tradition fables in your world follow
• describe a cultural taboo your world has

character

• design a relationship chart/web/etc for your fables !!
• pick one __ (word/object/emotion/etc) to describe your fable. what would it be and why?
• describe a time your fable helped someone. what did they do? why did they do it?

[feather ']

prompt: world - art
entry:

as seasons change, the world seems a little out of balance, as if it is still clinging to familiar ways. although it does not last long, everything often shifts into a unusual, vibrant shade. it is almost as if you're looking through a lens of a rose tinted hue.



prompt: character - writing
fable: npc (non-owner) <3
entry:


he once dared to dream.

he dreamt about ridiculous possibilities and hopeless opportunities. he believed in miracles and that hope alone would fly him to a place beyond. he dwelled in a fantasy of his own making, underneath a feathered wing that sheltered him from storms.

he realized now… how unbearably ridiculous it was.

what a fool he was to believe such nonsense— to believe that fate would 'bless him with whatever his heart desired?' no, of course not. fate was a cruel beast, forever preying on his downfall. the world despised him, even the vines withered at his touch; there was no room for a naive fool who wanted to dream.

the dreamer was dead and gone, not even the barest trace of him remained.

instead the dreamer had left behind a beaten and broken soul, weathered and drenched by all the torments of the world. the echo left behind was a tortured one, afraid of everything that was to come. he feared the world, and perhaps in its own twisted way, the world feared him too.

but was it not better that way? to live in constant agony so that there was not a sudden fall when things went wrong? to be emotionless so that nothing would burn anymore? for he had repeated to himself again and again and again, "i cannot be hurt if i cannot feel pain."

perhaps in the end he still was a dreamer, a broken one at best.
a dreamer who despised the world. [251 words]


prompt: suggest a prompt !!

• what burdens does your fable carry?
  
• what sound reminds your fable of home?

[feverdream]

prompt: character - writing
fable: seraphel ✸
entry: first musings about seraph as i begin to sort out his character - 417 words


seraphel had never enjoyed spending time in his parents' shop as a child. while others gazed up at its shimmering, star-freckled ceiling with awe, he felt only a gnawing dread as he peered into the false cosmos overhead. they made the room feel deceptively vast, for such a modest structure, in a way that unnerved him. his parents had adored it, though, and so he did his best to bury that feeling.

when they vanished one night—leaving a lantern still burning, the shop’s coinbox still ajar—that vast, hollowing feeling seemed to grow until it nearly swallowed him whole.

and then, the voice had arrived.

the first time he'd heard it, he'd thought it was his own exhausted, grieving mind musing restlessly. but it persisted in that soft, toneless murmur, day after day, guiding him through the shop's maze of aisles. suggesting which objects wanted to be moved where, which customers carried bad luck. and, perhaps most concerningly, everything it told him was right.

tonight, as the moons dipped low in the darkening sky above stellaris, seraphel finished closing the shop. frosty light spilled in through the windowpanes, catching on something he hadn’t noticed before—a fissure, thin as a hair, trailing down a glass talisman hanging by the door.

the voice stirred within his mind. there. you see it.

seraphel’s eyes fixed on the crack. “what am I looking at?” he whispered.

an omen, is it not? it replied, its tone verging on mocking.

outside, the wind picked up, sweeping cold across the surrounding mountain ridges. the towers above groaned softly—the city always sang at night, metal and stone swaying and shifting as temperatures dropped. the fracture upon the glass widened with a soft tick.

“it’s nothing,” he muttered. “glass breaks. it doesn't mean anything.”

but everything is a sign here, the voice sang. you know that by now.

the air grew thick with a dizzying pressure, clouding his mind. tomorrow, as always, nobles and citizens of stellaris’ upper rings would arrive seeking their divination—their fortunes to be bolstered, their anxieties to be soothed. they would look at him, the orphan shopkeep, with that familiar, nauseating mix of pity and fascination. the thought of needing to entertain their whims was almost unbearable.

you are changing, the voice said, as if plucking the thought directly from his mind. and you’re afraid. afraid that you might not believe in any of it anymore.

and seraphel knew, with a clarity that made his stomach ache, that the voice was right.

prompt: character - art
fable: sirona ✿
entry: sirona leaves house lysandor behind to chase freedom in the drifting isles



prompt suggestions:


• world - what is something that happened a long time ago in your world that has had lasting a lasting effect on your fables?
  
• character - what does your fable believe in more than anything else?
• character - what is your fable's most irrational fear, and their most rational?
• character - what is an odd habit one of your fables has?
• character - draw a 'self portrait' from the pov of one of your fables!

[Alantica]

prompt: character - writing
fable: Themis
entry: [282]

It wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. Unfamiliar nothingness. Who am I? His hooves feel foreign, his fur out of place, his eyes refusing to open fearing what he might find. The air stale with a hint of a danger that passed. Silence surrounded him, only the the sound of his own breathing ringing in his ears. It sounded, different… not his. After what felt like hours, his eyes finally flicker open. The room he was laying in was dim, only a small sliver of sunlight peeking through the closed blinds. His eyes strain, trying to take in the details of his “new” surroundings. He wants to get up but his body refuses to move. He tries again, his asleep legs shift a little. He pushes himself more until the legs once laying down now stood beneath him. They move, step by step before stopping at the desk.

A notebook sits open, pages half torn, spots of dried blood decorated the words. His eyes stared at the unfamiliar words in the increasing more frantic handwriting. Was this his? He didn’t know. He closes his eyes again as bits of forgotten knowledge surfaces his mind again. Ah… His eyes flicker open, the words now made sentences in his mind. “This wasn’t to plan! We need to gather more ingredients again!” “I know this is a trap but I still need to try. I’m not giving up.” “The voices are growing stronger by the day.” “I hope this is going to worth it in the end.”

His mind couldn’t understand it, these strings of words. What do they even mean? He needs to know, and he’s willing to do almost anything to unravel everything.

prompt: character - writing
fable: Ione
entry: [264]
Ione dreams of adventure and freedom. But she was a bird locked in a cage, told to look pretty and follow orders. She listens to the stories told by folks who thought she was nothing more than decor. They were ignorant. They made her dream. Her dreams grow until they break the cage, and she flies free.

Her life, once filled with safety and rules, falls away, leaving her with uncertainty and freedom. But it makes her feel alive, she wasn’t just someone in the background. Ione decided the world needs to be explored. She starts on the familiar waters, swimming and swirling through the open seas. Reaching small islands, studying the faunas and the wildlife. She curiosity still unsatieted as her ramblings are strewn on her field notebook.

One day her guard swims before her, he pleads to stay by her side. He was never working for her father, he was always there for her. She reluctantly allows him to stay, a friend wouldn’t be so bad. Eventually she swims to the mainland, her guard heads to land first to scout. When he returns, he looks grim. Ione learns her face was plastered all over the city. She sighs, she can’t be caught and so that day she decided to change her appearance as well. At first it felt wrong looking at the mirror, her long hair that was praised for its beauty now sits short. Her comfortable clothing that screamed luxury, replaced with the basics. She then boards a ship to somewhere far away, where she won’t be a face everyone knows.

——————

Prompt Ideas:
World:
In your world, what’s a fable’s diet?
What is a food delicacy in your world?

Character:
Does your fable dream of something?
Write about a relationship your fable has. Could be romantic, familial, enemies, etc.

[Snowflakette]

doing two of the same prompt + future prompt ideas:

• hidden talents / the opposite: what they are absolutely awful at
  
• food things;; recipes, what toppings the fable would be if they were a pizza/other foods (idk..)
  
• RPG things;; lore/art in the style of your favourite game, ability descriptions if they were in a video game (this is just me circling between fables and marvel rivals for the past ?? months lol)

prompt: character - writing
fable: verdun
entry: [250 words]


█████ was the name he last bore before the event. Under this name, he had done everything he believed was right.

(Haloes are constituted of light.) Luminance metamorphism– as we call it– occurs when an immortal achieves enlightenment through a series of merciful deeds, a diligent pursuit, or is recognised by the deity of their domain.

He had done everything right, and yet His deity refused him. On the way out, he made an argument that forever sundered the deity’s temperament.

█████ is an interesting case of a Fallen, taking upon a mortal’s career to live out his days. It is unclear what exactly he had said that angered the deity so, and so in the pursuit of my studies I posed as a new client to question him on this.

He was overall courteous, if not a bit blunt. But soon he grasped that I was no mere client, the telltale light behind him pulsing and betraying his measured cadence.

“Who I was before Verdun is none of your concern, madam.”

“It is the sole purpose of my visit, I need to know, when you approached Eter–”

(What is light if not fire?) A holy wrath had instantaneously taken over him, and what once was light sparked into an uncontrollable fire.

In a thunderous voice, he commanded me to leave the premises, to never come across his gaze again.

I admit in the moment, fear had overtaken me, my fists balled in preparation to summon a defensive spell. (An act of cowardice on my part.) But on my way out, curiosity grants me the courage to look back at the man one last time. (Still then, I wish some part of me was singed so I could study the fire.)

█████ celebrates the chemical reaction. He smiles to himself.


—

prompt: character - art
fable: verdun
entry:

[TheSongOfTheStars]

prompt: world - writing
entry:341 words

prompt: character - art
fable: Titan
entry: Leaving fear behind
its kinda rough but since it's an animation hopefully that's ok


Prompt ideas:

World:
Does your fable's world have any myths about the stars?

Character:
Your fable at different ages (baby, child, teen, adult, ect)