[Snowflakette]

I hope that little bow caught your attention! c;
(it's completely removable by the way! lol)

hey there!

I'm readopting this lovely kit as I'm having trouble coming up with an interesting story for them. ;A; I'm hoping to give this kit to someone who would give them a better home than I could!



they don't have any connections to their parents or any art pieces, but I have a sketch of their growth (off-Oekaki) I'd be happy to give to the winner! ♥

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prompt: the kit was described as matcha memories, so I wanted to do something corresponding!

to win this kit, tell me about a vivid memory of theirs (700 words max)!

extra: you're free to include an art piece as an extra (I'd say nothing more than a cleaned up coloured sketch ahh) or a moodboard if that's what you prefer! can be related or not related to the prompt.

Code: Select all

username:
name:
prompt (700 words max):
extra (1 art piece or moodboard):

rules: editing and prettying up is allowed!! off thread forms are a-ok as well. just no off-site forms!

the memory can be something good or bad! the prompt response should be told in words, but it can be in any format (story, script, diary, etc.)! also, as they're still a kit, I'd like if you develop the kal as a young one instead of an adult.

you absolutely don't have to reach the word limit, quality over quantity as usual! ovo

end date: this ends on april 10th, 11:59 PM (EST)!!

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kit edits:
nr - sclera
s - shine, hair, teeth
c - tail, fur
uc - pupil, ears

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if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to pm me! ♥

have fun!

[northie]

mark

res the idea of them visiting a tea shop for the first time

[kolyakun]

mork

[Chickpea]

Mark

[sillies]

hawaiian shirt res!

[Lorne_Purnima]

Mark c:

[zenisiti]

mark!

[SilhouetteStation]

username: SilhouetteStation
name: Gideon

prompt (700 words max):

It's widely said that events that produce the strongest emotions at the time result in the strongest memories. Getting your first dog, running a marathon, experiencing a messy break up; all memories that someone would remember well.

I'm no exception to this rule, but in my case the situation is slightly different.

I can remember almost anything.

I can remember news articles from years ago word for word. What strangers on the bus were wearing. People's faces after seeing them once. Songs sung to me as a baby. Exactly how many steps it took from my old classroom to the library. How old the lemon tree is in years, months, and days.

I remember every detail of the day we moved out of my childhood house. I was four.

It was mid- morning. The sky was pale blue. Clouds big and puffy. A light breeze kept swirling brown leaves on the cracked concrete footpath. Weeds had grown through now, with a large yellow dandelion three steps from the white wooden gate on the left side.

I went back inside and looked around in the empty rooms. Faded stripey wallpaper in the guest room. My room with the chipped paint windowsill. A slight stain on the carpet where I spilt orange juice. Wood panel walls. My parents room, soft gray walls, doorknob that got stuck if you turned it wrong. Bathroom, marbled lino, polka dot shower curtain.

Darker hallway, opening up to the dining room. Wooden table, mismatched chairs but same pillows on each. Lace doilies, gone. Wilting flowers in the cracked blue vase, gone.

To my right, the kitchen. Mint green walls in need of a clean. White cabinetry. On the bench, a thin ring of tea spilt from the morning brew, presumably gone unnoticed. Old stove. The back left one was dodgy. Floral tea towels, dinnerware, cutlery, patterned mugs, kettle; packed.

Left into the living room. Pencil lines on the door frame to measure my height. The countryside painting gone, family photos gone, just bare walls staring back. TV packed. Electrical sockets empty. Cardboard boxes piled up. The big brown couch, picked up secondhand with a stain on the right arm, was still to be moved. On the back was a hand knitted throw made with glittery wool in blue, pink, yellow and white. I reached out to touch it; I would remember the feeling on my fingertips for the rest of my life.

Someone eased it away from me. Gave me a pat on the back, and then it was folded. Packed. Gone.

I dodged people taking out the washing machine as I peeked into the laundry. More lino. Dust where appliances used to be. Back to the lounge, out through the sliding door into the backyard.

The grass was ankle height. Wildflowers by the fence. Boggy patch in the opposite corner. Daisy and clover everywhere else. I walked over to the old lemon tree that I still think about. Just taller than me. Spindly branches. Sparse leaves. One small knobbly yellow-green fruit growing. A good tree, a hardy tree.

Time passes. Everything else is loaded into the removal van. House cleaned.

A hand on my shoulder, steering my reluctant feet back inside. The atmosphere is different. Sad. Empty. Like the house doesn't understand why someone is emptying it. Why they're leaving. I hope it felt better when the new family moved in.

Back down the hall, out through the front door, down the path. My eyes tear up when I see the dandelion. It takes an effort to step onto the footpath, feel the grainy concrete underneath. The gate is closed. I see the letterbox, rusty, and the spot where I painted a misshapen sun. I touch it in farewell.

In the car, I twist around in the back seat and watch as we drive away, the house getting smaller until we turn a corner and it's gone. It's only then do I cry, because that's when it sinks in that we're not going back. It's someone else's home now.

I'll remember that day forever. Mainly because I don't want to forget those details, but also because I don't have a choice.

I can't forget.

(698/700)

extra (1 art piece or moodboard):
I'm not able to put together a moodboard on my laptop at the moment, but I hope this will work as one! <3

x x x
x x x
x x x

[stan.]

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username: IlluminatiConfirmed
name: Bercilak
form:
[click the image to go to form]

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[annie15970]

Mark