[Petscop]

#200 Staff Litter

You can hear bells in the distance,
something makes you feel lightheaded.

UNique cloud-plume taloned-winged lambicorn

This is the element of air, a fierce force to be reckoned with
but makes for a pretty cute lambicorn !
To win this lambicorn, tell me what makes them happy!
You can interpret this prompt however you like !

You have no maximum and a minimum of 200 words
2 extra art pieces are allowed, prettying up is allowed

⇣⇣⇣ Contest! ⇣⇣⇣
✨ Ends 11/21st on that day's rollover / 7pm CDT✨

Code: Select all

Username:
Lambicorn name:
Pronouns:
Prompt:


[BlueberryOtter]

Username: BlueberryOtter
Lambicorn name: Windybell
Pronouns: She/her they/them
Prompt:
(might do art)

You can hear bells in the distance,
something makes you feel lightheaded.
Some people say they are lightheaded around them.
They say its most likely the mix of her being part cloud, and her wind chime always seeming to ring.

Its not just her wind chime that rings, its her voice. Is there perhaps a small wind chime in her voice box? No, they were born with this special. . . ability, or curse some say. They cannot speak, her words come out as a sound of a little bell. One sentence would come out as a wind chime's tune. Enough of hearing her speak you'd either love it, or get a headache.

They are chatty, so is her wind chime, that sings along with her words. Though she doesn't sing, it sounds like she always does with their sweet face and gentle personality. Though of course, she isn't always sweet, everyone has an angry side. She can get mad for some of the littlest things, even for being so tranquil and happy all the time. When she gets too wet, being called names, or even if someone interrupts them. When they are very angry, there face turns red, and all her white colors turn silver and gray.

No one understands her. Not really anyway. She would either scratch out her words, or carry around a notepad, a quill and ink in her cloud-plume mane. She may also use her magic to make words, especially if its too dark. Maybe she'll get a translator someday, but not right now. No one is having major issues, since she is a swift writer. The only problem with her writing is she writes in this very cutesy cursive that some lambies struggle to read.

She is soft, they are light, they soar through the sky effortlessly. They are light as a feather, light as a cloud. Picking her up is very easy, even though they are very large. Their mane also can act as a pillow when she lays down. Her wings are soft and silky, like a doves feather. Its quite the mystery how she flys so easily without being swept away by a gust of wind. They dont even know how either. Though, I guess its clear, since shes based off the sky.

They love to collect feathers and shiny objects. From dove feathers, her favorite, to blue jays, another favorite. Heck, she loves all of them. They love to store dove feathers in their mane, mainly to use as quills, but she likes the soft touch of them. With shiny items, it can range from a new coin, to a gemstone. Anything that can catch a sparkle from a source of light. They'd even store shiny gears and knickknacks in a small jar.

The other uniques and rare stylishes of all the other elements work together in harmony to keep all of the lambies safe. Windybell takes care of the air and sky. While others take care of thier own elements. The fire lambies take care of their part, and the water takes care of theirs.

To wrap up whatever this small story may be, she is light a swift. Tranquil yet short-tempered. Cannot speak, but sings only in chimes. Is quiet yet chatty. And of course, they are light as a cloud. Or just a feather.

(word count: 555)

[RenSleep]

Username: blood-moon
Lambicorn name: puff
Pronouns: she/her
Prompt: wIp

[Deercan]

Username: Deercan
Lambicorn name: Alina
Pronouns: they/them, ze/zer
Prompt: (1038 words)

The early evening sky was a beautiful mix of pink and blue, the colours that reminded you of cotton candy. You had been flying around for hours just enjoying the clear weather, but now you needed a rest. Spotting a rather large, fluffy cloud that was also similar to the sweet carnival candy treat, you decided it would be the perfect spot to relax your wings and gather some energy before heading back down to your home.

You had just closed your eyes when you heard the sound of a wind chime and a slight breeze. You look over and to your surprise, there sat a lambicorn that was at least four times taller than you, almost blending in with the cloud you were on. You were intimidated by their greatness, and the powerful, fierce aura they had at first, but their soft and understanding smile soothed your worries. They spoke, their voice strong but playful with a carefree tone. You stared up at zer in awe.

"Hello there, young one. What do you seek?"
You thought about this for a minute. You hadn't been looking for anything, you were just out enjoying the lovely day. You shrugged and told them you didn't seek anything besides a friendly conversation, and asked them who they were and what made them happy. They were a bit surprised, as if they hadn't gotten asked about themselves much before.

"I am Alina, the Elder of the Air. I don't believe anyone has asked me that before, but I will try my best to answer. " They closed their eyes for a moment, thinking. When they opened them again, they were smiling.

"Well, many things make me happy. Do you know the city down there?"
You looked down at where Alina was pointing, at the city. That was Sky Council, the city on the clouds, where you and many other lambies lived! You nod, and Alina grins.

"That's what I'm most proud of, what makes me the happiest. I was the one who made that safe place for lambies of the sky. The one who spent nights gathering the clouds, and whose magic kept those clouds together so that no small lambabies would fall through," they lifted their head proudly, "that was all my wonderful work. Along with controlling the wind and keeping terrible storms away, of course."

Ze stretched zer wings, looking at the city with a thoughtful, but longing gaze.
"It's been quite a while since I've been back down to that place. Say, isn't tomorrow the start of the Windsong Festival?"

You pause, unsure of how to explain what happened with the festival. "Well.. not exactly. Everyone in the city is too 'busy' with their boring jobs to help in the Festival. Only a few lambies have set up decorations, and there's no music or partying anymore. It's honestly really sad.." You sigh, greatly upset by this. Alina got to their paws and gave you a reassuring smile.

"No Windsong Festival? Well that just won't do! Don't worry, I've got a plan. You hurry home now and tell your friends and family to all get ready, I've got a big surprise in store for everyone."
With that Alina summoned a great gust of wind, and flew down towards the city.

x

x

Alina scanned the city for a safe landing spot as ze flew closer, as to not land on any lambicorns or smaller buildings. Ze found a clearing in the center of the main part of the city and gracefully landed, tucking zer wings against zer body. They glanced around, taking in everything. It seemed as if the other lambicorn they had been talking to was right, the city did seem pretty sad and gray like this. It hurt, to see their once beautiful city turned to this glum grayscale place. They shook their head slightly to clear those sad thoughts. They came here to return the city to its cheerful colourful self, after all! Now.. where to start? There were already a few decorations and festival stands set up, it was something but not quite enough.

It seems as if they had forgotten that they had been sitting in the middle of the city, as they were too busy thinking about plans to save the festival to notice the rather large crowd that had gathered before them. Alina glanced back down to see what looked like the whole city gathered before zer in awe.

"Who are you? If you've come to the Windsong Festival then I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's not going to happen this year." One of the lambicorns told them. Alina took another look at the large crowd, a plan to save the festival forming in their head. They smiled.

"My name is Alina, the creator of this city. Now everyone gather around, I have a plan to save the festival. But I'll be needing everyones help."

x X x

It was the following day, and the city with full of beautiful coloured posters and lights! Lambicorns flew around and danced in the sky, just having a fun care free time. It was the first time in years that the city had been this alive and cheerful. It was beautiful.
In the middle of the square perched on the fountain was Alina. Ze were grinning, tears in see zer sky blue eyes. But not tears of sadness, no. They were tears of joy. A lambicorn approached them and sat next to them.
"This festival is beautiful! But how did you do it, how did you get the city to look this nice in one night?"
Alina just shook their head as they spoke.

"Oh no, I didn't do it all by myself." They gestured with their tail to the marvelous city and the lambicorns around them. "Everyone here helped each other to make this festival happen today. I merely just asked everyone to think of what makes them most happy and then to combine all those things to make something wonderful!"

The other lambicorn nodded. "I think it turned out amazing! I'm, well, really happy!"
Alina closed their eyes, a peaceful smile on their face as a breeze came by the city and made the windchimes ring softly.

"I am too."

[modern]

mark^^

[Asternaut]

marking

[Foxghost]

Username: Rosemoon
Lambicorn name: Altaria
Pronouns: She/Her
Prompt: wip

[mal du pays]

Username: Takura.
Lambicorn name: Amfiel
Pronouns: He/they
Prompt:
Resolute.
A penchant for finding the endings of things, one could say. The drive to find out how everything ends was something most didn’t exactly find enjoyable.
Seated gingerly upon a silver-coated throne laid Amfiel, a pen held neatly in their clawed hand. Thumbing over the sheets of paper in front of them, they sighed as they mulled over what they’d written. It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Fussily, they scratched out the connecting line from the page before they tossed the old sheet to the side, unfortunately discarded in a slow-growing pile next to the throne. Despite the talents Amfiel had with his craft, this particular script was a difficult one. He struggled to thumb out an ending for it.
“Alright, pause. Maybe we should work on something else..” Gently, he shifted the freshly-written on sheet to the side, tucking it away to be completed later on. Maybe he could figure out an ending for that one later; perhaps it would strike him at the most inconvenient time (although he’d developed personal countermeasures to keep these good ideas mostly intact). He would just have to see, he supposed.
For now, he picked up his pen, and he began to pen a new script. A new journey, a new tale to figure out the ending of.
Most folks didn’t enjoy finding the end of the line. Amfiel was not most folks.
And so he wrote.



To Amfiel, writing was something fickle. It needed to be perfect, something one couldn't simply falter with. If something did not read well to them, it made them upset - especially if the ending did not meet the expectations that they were presented with during the course of their reading.
These expectations, of course, were also placed on them - they were not so foolish as to hold themself to lower standards than those of their peers. They considered it the opposite - they needed to present themself better than their peers, due to the social status they held - not just as an author, but a relatively powerful figure within the realm itself. It was a title they tried to hold with grace and dignity, but were unsure if they hit the mark.
Their age reflected clearly in their work, improvements hitting each first draft as they formulated more and more concepts, stories, ideas. All of it was moot if they couldn't figure out the ending, and if they were unable to build to that resolution cleanly, it was a waste of time & paper to keep trying to force it out. An unfinished manuscript was much better than a subpar one, much to their distaste of leaving the drafts without an ending - it taking all of the strength they had not to go back to their old work to finish them, even if the ending would be mediocre.

[rem sleep]

a mark!

[lilpupin]

Username: lilpupin
Lambicorn name: Jasmin
Pronouns: he/him
Prompt:

ring ring ring
a bell sounds silently in the night
ring
ring
ring
It is the tenth day of winter and the sky is filled with regrets.
Two nights ago a plague of nightmares had shown it's wrath to the small village of Roanthsber. Everyone suffered the same as each other. Adults writhed in their sleep in terror of a shadowy maze, every corner a dead end, no escape. The children saw blackness when they slept, blinding white eyes puncturing the dark here and there. Upon waking the dreamers felt deep guilt and sorrow, the feeling hanging so harshly within their souls for many days after the incident. A prophet spoke of a return, that those wakeful nights would once again bring fear to their land, and soon. Perhaps there would be a way to stop it, perhaps there would be a way to bring peace.
night
came
again
It was the eleventh night of winter and all was not well.
The words of the prophet laid heavy in the mind of our hero and he did not allow sleep to find him. He sat up all night, a blanket draped over him, a great dream catcher clutched in his claws. His clock struck midnight and along with the chime he heard a noise beneath the louder sound. It went ring ring ring the great swinging arm of his grandfather clock stopped on the third ring, raised in preparation for a fourth swing, and all went silent. His own breath was deafening and his eyes darted about the room- what was there, he was not alone. A great roar sounded in his ear, why do you not sleep, young fool? The hero trembled in response, lowering his head, his dreamcatcher raised high. The voice laughed a dreadful awful laugh and the world fell silent again. The clock was released and as the fourth chime rang through the air our hero fell asleep.
without
choice
sleep
It was the twelfth day of winter and the town was uneasy.
Our hero left his house to the calls of neighbors. The dreams had returned. Our hero had also suffered the same fate, but his dream was different. The harsh call of the bell followed him into his slumber. Others had reported hearing that dreaded bell, it was believed to be a source of power for the beast that hexed them with such nightmares. The prophet spoke again. Things would only get worse, there needed to be a solution.
the nights came and went
the nightmares became more frequent
Our hero had more encounters
It was the twentieth night of winter and the night became a routine.
The sound of the bell began to be a higher fear than that of the dreams, but our hero could hardly sleep if he wanted. A new dream plagued him, different from the rest of the village. He was alone in the forest, and the trees would watch him. Without eyes he knew they stared at his every move, so he didn't move. He stayed quiet within that dreaded forest, the one that taunted him with its own existence. And still that sound, that horrible bell. He had no choice. Sleep found him each night after the laughter of the beast, after the stopping of the clock. He became a game to time itself. He had to do something.
It
was
time
It was the twenty second day of winter and the village was restless.
The prophet spoke to our hero, he had seen what was to come. Flashes of green in his vision, flashes of white, flashes of black. Our hero couldn't fight the creature in our own world, it was invincible, impenetrable, immortal. Our hero had to fight in the beast's own realm. There was no more time for cowardice, trembling on the floor with a dreamcatcher clutched to his chest. No, it was time for so much more. They depended on him.
ring
ring
ring
It was the twenty third night of winter and our hero had gained courage.
Within his own right he decided that the beast had no business bothering him. Change was a must. When the clock stopped mid-swing and the fourth chime brought up its call, our hero felt a tremor in his heart. Fear was something he would have to ignore, but his heart still quaked in response. When his eyes opened once more in the forest he rose from his crouched position. The trees watched him and he stared back, anger alight in his eyes. It is time for change, he roared and the trees trembled before him. The grass wilted at his voice and he felt something stirring within the edges of the world. The beast heard him as well. A great zip cried through the air and a black figure appeared before our hero, eyes shining with the fury of the universe. Fool! It yelled with its might, A fool to challenge me here! Our hero remembered his fear and his heart beat loudly within his own chest.
thump
thump
thump
It was the first hour in the shadow realm and our hero remembered himself.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

They say the fight lasted a year in that realm
that neither side ever seemed to win
possession of the bell was our hero's goal
sometimes neither of it held it's control
sometimes our hero
sometimes the beast
They say that if you blinked you would miss the fight
that their war lasted on a different time frame
time became our hero's friend
it held him through the long hours and fought along side him
the beast began to face a new destiny
the beast began to fear
They say that the shadow realm never looked the same afterwards
that power had been granted to our hero within that world
the land was forever scarred afterwards
proof of the turmoil
the fight for power over the bell
but our hero won in the end
.
.
.

It was the twenty fourth day of winter and our hero woke in peace.
He held the bell in his claws and felt an understanding deep within him. His world would never be the same. He no longer belonged to that of his village. He could see them, but them not he. Roanthsber felt an understanding within it. Our hero had saved them from their turmoil. The twenty fourth day of winter was held in his honor. And our hero had a new calling in life.
ring
ring
ring
His bell brought kind dreams to the village. Children delighted at the sound of the bell. It brought him joy to see the smiles of the sleeping. He gave the sweetest of dreams to the young and old, unpleasant ones to the evil and wicked. He governed the dreams of that village for many years to come. Time gave him a gift. On the twenty fourth day of winter he could materialize with the villagers during the festival. Not as himself, but as a different appearance each time. He watched parents give their children their own bells to play with as the night ebbed on. Joy flooded his heart to see the peace he brought others, the fun they had in his remembrance. And so he would walk the festival grounds, a single bell tied at his neck.
ring
ring
ring