[sprig]

Prompt:
What is his biggest past regret? (500 word max)

Extra:
250 words (cannot be added to prompt) Examples;

- Personality
- Likes / Dislikes
- Short story
- Relationships

or

1 art piece

- By you or someone else
- Still art only (no animations)
- Decoration images do not count as art

Coding is encouraged!
End date: May 8th

Edits: Tailless (R)

Code: Select all

[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b] Bull

[b]Prompt:[/b]
[b]Extra:[/b]

[skip]

Username: ➷.River.➷
Name: Milo
Gender: Bull

Prompt:
"Mom!! You don't understand! I hate you! Just stop you don't understand! Just shut up okay?"
Why? Why did I say that to her? All she wanted was to encourage me, to support me. But I told her to shut up, I acted as if I didn't love her. That morning I left the farm in a hurry, I just wanted to get away from her. But I just wish I had told her I loved her.. that I cared about her. That morning I didn't answer her calls, reply to her plea's for me to come home. I just.. ignored her. And now it's all my fault. The accident was all my fault. That morning my mom had just tried to tell me that I shouldn't care what others say about me and especially my non-existent tail, I should know that I can't change what I look like, I can only embrace it. Just stuff mom's say to their children. But no, I couldn't listen to her. I told her to stop and that what she said couldn't help. All she wanted to do was help. Moms are like that, they love you no matter what cause you can be everything to them, or nothing. I was so lucky to have a mother who cared for me like that. Yet I took her for granted. I didn't appreciate and love her like she deserved. She did everything for me, I didn't realize till now all her sacrifices just so I could grow up a lucky and fortunate bull. Every morning I gave the occasional "Thanks mom!" Or "Love ya mom!" But I never truly meant it. That morning I should of apologized, I should of said I love you and I'm sorry. But no, I stormed out and ignored her. If I had just gone back to the farm or responded to her, then it never would of happened. She never would have gotten in the trailer with the farmer to look for me. They never would of drove down the Ricket River Road. They never would of collided with that semi. Then, the farmer would be home to his kids and wife, and my mother wouldn't be gone. I would be able to apologize and see her the next morning, to tell her I love her. But I had been to selfish. I had only thought of myself and my anger. If I had chosen to not be such a brat it would be okay. If I had chosen to not be so selfish, my mother and the farmer would be at the farm living their lives. But I was to inconsiderate. I should have never gotten mad at her and she wouldn't have died thinking I had hated her and didn't love her. Why did I do it? Why? I should of been at home with her and it wouldn't have happened. The pain wouldn't be here. If only I hadn't been selfish.. if only.. (499)
Extra:

Milo grew up knowing his and his mother's troubles. Some days things were tough, others were delightful experiences. He remembers his mother's teachings and hopes to make her proud even if she isn't around with him. He knows to always be honorable, be considerate and kind, always be courteous, never forget your manners. He knows that even when times are tough, have faith, know that if you try and work hard, things will get better. Milo is always sure to follow those aspects, and although he tries to be tough, he really is a kind compassionate bull. But he wasn't always like this, before he lost his mother who was like a best friend, he wasn't so kind and considerate. He didn't have many manners. He was rude and gave attitude. But since his loss, it has hardened him, but he knows now to honor his mother's wishes and teachings. He knows that even if she isn't here, she's watching. He has made it a priority to be the best bull he can be at all times. (177)

[♔Voltaire♔]

••••Loading Prompt, Please wait••••


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"Azai, dear, won't you come help me with my garden? There is an extra controller waiting here just for you!"

"Mommmm, that game is for girls."

"Oh, no it isn't! It's rated: "E for everyone". Like it says on the case."

"Mom that game is dumb! I will never help you make your stupid garden!"


Azai held the small handheld game device, trembling as he did so. His throat began to knot up, just as it always did when he spotted the small gadget set perched on top of the highest shelf, collecting dust. He hadn't touched it- not even once, until today. The small piece of technology was in good condition- she always took care of her things, made sure everything was clean and cared for properly. Part of him wanted to put it back, but he owed it to her to finally see what she had accomplished - what they could have accomplished together if only he had taken the controller.

With a gentle press of the power button, the screen lit up, the small menu popping up with many unfinished demos and "recently played" s. Azai slowly moved the joystick over to "Koi Garden" and clicked it, a small bubbling noise and airy piano accompaniment playing as small koi swam across the title screen. Pressing the "A" button directed him to a screen, a message appearing across the white background.

"Welcome back, ADA! It seems like forever since your last play session. We are so glad you came back! Well, are you ready to get started?"

Clicking the "Continue" button sent the screen to black, only later to be replaced with the small avatar his mother had created and the garden she put all of her heart into. Azai felt the hot tears stream down his face as he moved the small character around the map, taking in the intricately placed bamboo plants and the small koi pond in the center of the garden. He watched the pixel fish flick through the water, small splashing sounds coming from the speakers. After watching them for a while, Azai directed the small avatar to a house, which he could only assume was the playable character's. Inside was a small bed, and an interactive bookshelf, which housed an FAQ, a "How to Play" manual, as well as the "Garden Stats". Azai clicked on the stats, and immediately his breath caught in his throat.

"Garden Name: Azai's Wonderland"

He wished he had taken that controller. He wished he would have sat down and played with her for as long as she wanted to. He wished that he told her to "rest and let the medicine work" the very last time she asked him to join her. He wished he could hold her one last time, and tell her he was sorry... So, so sorry.

He turned the power off, tears dropping on to the smudged screen. Returning the device back to its shelf, he took a deep breath and choked,

"Game Over."

Username:♔Voltaire♔
Name: Azai
Gender: Bull

Extra: His favorite Video game soundtrack. Feel free to have a listen.
To the Moon

[SaltyBirb]

mark

[Andromeda]

A bull omg marking

[Kassypen]

Username: Kassypen
Name: Arlo
Gender: Bull

Prompt: As he stared down at the blank page pressed between two cardboard covers, Arlo tapped his foot against the bus stop bench. The cheap doors barely blocked the pelting water from spilling inside and soaking the soles of his shoes. He pressed his back into the plastic, imagining the feeling of the water that streamed down outside. If he closed his eyes, he could envision himself standing on the other side of the plastic wall decorated with advertisements from cheap lawyers and taco stands. The rain would then reach him, dousing his loose, salmon colored sweatshirt. He would be able to feel it fill his shoes like a bathtub waiting to be used and enjoyed.

But no, he was inside the plastic bubble, his bubble, alone. He called it his because he never saw anyone else there. It was just him, his notebook, a pencil covered in his own nervous bitemarks, and the ads. He had memorized each face pasted to the wall, and had often reglued them so they could continue to man their post. He felt he owed it to the real face that owned the company, not the version printed at a discount printing shop.

Sometimes he imagined what it would be like to call the posted number, or tear a tab. He’d be able to hear the voice of the face he knew. He could only then sketch them down in his notebook.

You see, Arlo only believed in sketching someone if he knew their voice. Only then could he truly know them, and he only drew people he knew. But no assistant wanted to give any time to a seventeen year old kid asking to hear the voice of Blake Perkins. So instead he drew people he did know. Except once.

~~~

The bus stop clear box wasn’t empty that day, as it usually was, but instead a boy sat inside. His emerald eyes glowed in the sunlight. They were almond shaped, and had small flecks of gold pooling in the center. Or so Arlo imagined. His skin tone held a light olive tint. His honey curls messily sat atop his head. His fingers never stopped moving, an old habit Arlo assumed. Arlo assumed a lot about this boy.

He assumed that those green eyes held more personality than many got to see, than many chose to see, or spent time to see. He wanted to, but couldn’t possibly. His heart never gathered the strength to open those plastic doors. They’d feel sealed shut if he tried, he was sure.

Oh, how he wanted to look into the boy’s emerald orbs, and sit next to him on the plastic bench as they waited for the bus together. He didn’t want to be alone in his bubble anymore. But he hadn’t had the courage to say hello. His biggest regret.

~~~

As the plastic wall pressed into his back, Arlo sketched those eyes, the only eyes he’d sketched without a voice. {494/500}

Extra: Arlo’s knuckles quickly turned into an inflamed red as he rubbed them nervously. Behind him sat his first piece of published art, Vos. “Vos” stands for “You” in latin. He had named it after the boy with the emerald eyes. Inside a golden frame sat the finished product of his sketch from the bus stop. He had felt a surge of inspiration that day and went home to paint. What started as an idea and simple pencil lines quickly blossomed into his best work. Though he knew he would improve in years to come, the art warmed him when he looked at it.

His foot started to tap and he adjusted his collar as an art critic stepped towards him, a glass of sparkling champagne in hand. The man adjusted his glasses, peering at the artwork down his pencil thin nose. Arlo could feel his eyebrow start to twitch and his fingers curl in anticipation for the critic’s words. If Vos was bought tonight it would be the final thing he needed in his application for the Beaulieu School of Art in France.

“The work..” Arlo looked at his nametag, Mr. Gerard, paused as he sipped from his glass and continued with a slightly slurred and nasally tone, probably from the alcohol, “Stands for itself. You may be young, boy, but Vos is, how do you say, magnifique.” He wrote down an offer on the posted sheet before walking away. Arlo’s heart was filled with joy as he hugged himself. {250/250}

[lumilys]

reee mark

[Streak]

𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 | 𝙋𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙤 | 𝘽𝙪𝙡𝙡

”Ponyo, come party with us!”

“Your whole family is here!”

“You don’t know when you’ll get to see them again!”

You don’t know when you’ll get to see them again.

Truer words had never been spoken, and Ponyo knew it. Those words rang through his head every night, and the sound got so sickening that he chose to remain restless, just to avoid it.

After stumbling down to the stream, he stared down at his reflection. There wasn’t much moonlight that night to sparkle on the water. Staring back at him was only his reflection, surrounded by darkness. Wearily, he continued to stare, as his tears smacked against the surface and stirred the image. It was all he had left, his only friend, an illusion of light. From many restless night, the bull finally collapsed with exhaustion, and the memory of that night crawled back into his vision.

It was a family reunion, the first in many, many years due to health problems and busy schedules, but no one had known that it would also be the last.

Everyone in Ponyo's extensive family had come. His eleven aunts and uncles, thirty-six cousins, and his grandparents were all there at his family's barn that night. It was a huge party, with food, refreshments, and music. Tired and trying to avoid blasé conversation with older relatives, he only spoke to a few of his favorite cousins, threw together a small plate of snacks, and went back to his stall to rest. He stretched out in the stall and munched on his sweet snacks, though the young bull couldn't ever hear himself chewing over the music, which was still deafening.
Sheesh, someone could get killed in there and no one would hear it happen, Ponyo thought to himself. Despite the cacophony, he soon dozed off.

About an hour later, he woke up and immediately noticed how quiet things had gotten. He heaved himself up with a grunt, and realized that it was beyond quiet; it was silent. Well that's odd... the bull told himself as he walked toward the main barn door, almost holding his breath. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw as he pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Everyone was gone. Not gone gone, they were all still there, but they were gone. As he spotted the tracks of a pack of coyotes leading out of the other door, which stood wide open, Ponyo fell to the ground and sobbed, vision blurred with wet rage and despair.

"If only I'd been there..." he cried out to no one in particular. He didn't know what he would've done, but he knew he could've done so much more than he did. All because he'd been so selfish, everyone he knew and loved was no longer with him. Looking at the mess of the world around him, tears began to sting Ponyo's eyes again.

"If only I'd been there..."

[chanhee.]

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Teddy grew up in a poor family. His parents were stressed, their house
was run down and pretty much falling apart, and they didn't have a
good source of income. His father's heath was quickly deteriorating,
so his mother was forced to stay home to take care of him. Through
all of that, though, they were family. Teddy's mother and father both
made sure he was able to make it to school and he had clothing and
at the very least a small dinner every day, though it took money away
from utilities and medicine.

As he grew older, Teddy came to see himself as more of a burden than an
asset, even though he cleaned the house and cared for his father while his
mother was away. He tried to ignore the thoughts that plagued his thoughts
and dreams, manifesting themselves in the voice in the back of his head telling him they'd be better off without him, until it became too much and he left with a backpack full of essentials and not a single word uttered to his parents- he didn't wish to make them feel guilty about his decision.

At fourteen Ted found himself wandering the streets three states away, begging
and doing odd jobs for money to just eat. He'd given up trying to sleep, as cops would come by and tell him to scram, so he found himself more and more stressed the longer he was alone and just fighting to survive. The idea of going back home crossed his mind many times, but then he'd remember the money wasted on him and not put towards his parents living, and the idea would disappear as quickly as it came, leaving Teddy feeling a bit more hollow than he had before.

At seventeen, he'd gone back to his home state, still a few cities away from his hometown, but close enough he could take a bus and roam the streets he knew like the back of his hand. After encountering a few people he'd gone to school with in his prior years, he'd learned his mother still lived here, now alone, and his father had succumbed to his illness not a year after Teddy'd left.

The news crushed him, and he immediately turned and made his way to his old house, where he saw no lights on but a car in the driveway. Holding his breath, he argued with himself about knocking on the door and apologizing for leaving, but in the end his fear won and instead he left a letter with his apology and all the money on him besides his bus fare.

Memories still haunt him, and he still wishes he'd manned up and talked to his mother, but he'd heard through a friend that she'd called around and asked if anyone knew where he was, which was answered with denial, but they could tell she'd been given hope once more that she would see him.

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A hand on Teddy's back startled him, but the laugh following his jolt was enough to calm him down.
"I've been waiting to see you again!" Halley's laugh was soft, and she sat down gently, careful not to make too much noise. "How have things been?"
"You know... same old same old," Teddy replied with a sigh, leaning his head on his neighbour's shoulder, "Sorry for not being around- been a few cities away and didn't have bus fare."
"Teddy... you know I can take you out there. I don't mind driving you," her voice was nearly pitying- enough so that Teddy pulled off her shoulder and bristled up a bit.
"But I mind, and you know I can't just let you chauffeur me around for free," his response was sharper than he'd intended, and he apologized quietly when Halley winced at his tone.
"I just want you to be happy, you know... If you miss your hometown, I want to help lessen that pain, Teddy."
"I don't want your pity, Halley, we've been over this."
"It's not pity! I don't want you to lose your damn mind because you won't let yourself heal, you thick-skulled idiot!"
There was a pause before Teddy sighed, nodding a bit. "Next time I want to go, I'll come to talk to you. Maybe you can finally talk me into talking to my mom again, huh?"
"I'd like that. I'd love to meet my best friend's mom."
"Next weekend, then?"
"Deal."

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[LivingLethal]

Username: LivingLethal
Name:
Gender: Bull

Prompt:
Extra: