[bezel]

owner: Melonbread
name: Bellamy

base: custom
horn: med. goat & crown antler
wings: lg. feathered & med. bat
ears: pointed
tail: curly unicorn

[Vexious]

fable name: discord

music:

about them:

mark ??!!

[boogiebug]

mark!

[Nanorat]

fable name: Tranquill
music: Zanzarah Original Soundtrack 02 - Karina Gretere - Title Theme
about them:

The combination of unique traits on Quill's body might make him appear dangerous, implying the use of chaos magic and a restless, agressive spirit to match his sharp looks and ferocious looking claws, but in reality, this first impression cannot be further from the truth - you will hardly find a more relaxed fable in all of the magic-touched lands put together.

Amiable and in perfect harmony with himself and the surrounding nature, Quill is an embodiment of serenity and benevolence. He's never in a hurry, he's never stressed or angry - why would he need to be, when everything in the world is so good and beautiful?

The greatest enjoyment of his life is simply travelling the woods and meadows at slow, leisurely pace, listening to the enchanting sounds of life around him, admiring its colors and shapes. He never once had to put his claws to use, except maybe to crack nuts - he is, in general, very calm, and would rather try to discuss things than resort to violence, even when cornered, he'd rather flee than fight, despite having a full arsenal of sharp weapons to back himself up. He has no grand goals nor ambitious plans to strive for - he simply lives to enjoy living.

At one time, he stayed in a single oak grove for a few years simply for the childish amusement of finding every kind of acorn there is - and doing so at his own, steady pace, he took his sweet time doing it, and you can underline time twice as he took extra to do everything there was also to do in that little forest while he was at it - to roll in the warm summer moss hidden beneath the trees, to eat the berries on the secluded little meadow between two gigantic oaks, to try the local creek water in ealy winter because squirrels told him it was so good at that time... these things accurately describe the very core of Tranquill.

Whether he is a child of dark magic, as some others might gossip, he does not know... and he does not care. Because he's himself, and it's just fine for him. And the sun will always rise. And there will always be raspberries. And if there will always be raspberries - why ever feel bad?

[Melonbread]

fable name: Bellamy [good and beautiful friend]
music: Observation Post - Breath of the Wild
about them:

Ever beware the silver sand
Ever walk the darkened road
And when night wind calls
And cookfire shines
The friend of travelers comes

By light of moon and light of star
O shadow of the old desert
Antler to guide the worthy
Horn to deceive the wicked
A story for a simple meal

For the hospitable—safe travels
For the cruel—mad desert be thine home
Spirit of the old desert,
Omen for good or for ill,
The friend of travelers comes



A fable that travels a vast, old desert alone, believed by some to be a lucky sign on the winding and perilous road—provided one is kind enough to spare a bit of food. A mysterious but ultimately ordinary individual taking advantage of rumours to secure food and shelter in the wilderness, or a true harbinger of powerful fortune? No one knows for sure, and Bellamy will never say. It is the nature of stories to be ambiguous, and what is a fable if not a story?

—

It is a strange and lonely desert on the way to the sea. Its sweeping dunes shine like glass in the light, its spiraling rock formations speaking to ancient magic in its past. The sand speaks, or so they say, when the eastern wind blows at dusk, whispering across the crests of the dunes and through the fluted stone. The old road is the traveler's boon, keeping them safe in the ghostly barrens, but the road crumbles, and the sand blows, and odd things happen in the night...

A wandering trader settles down for the night in the leeward shelter of a towering sand dune. The sand glitters in the soft light of their campfire.

"Stranger," calls a shadow, standing atop the dune, "may I join you?"

"Who are you?" asks the trader.

The shadow descends the dune, sending rivulets of sand crumbling down the side with every step. "A traveler, same as you." They wear a long, dark cloak that flutters in the wind.

The trader hesitates. "Very well then," they say. It is good to stick together in a place like this.

"Thank you, dear friend," the shadow murmurs.

"You come from off the road."

"Ah yes, stay on the wandering road, light the way at dark, else one is liable to lose their way." It laughs, and its laugh is dry and rustling like the desert wind. "Why, half of me has already wandered off and gotten lost." From under the cloak, the glint of a reddish eye, and the flash of a claw where there ought to be a hoof. "Do not look so perturbed, new friend. I would not intrude upon thy hospitality. Tell you what," they continue, settling down beside the fire. "If you could spare a bit of food, I will tell you a story."

"A story..?"

"Yes, a story. I have traveled these lands for a long time, friend, and it is ever better to have a little tale or two to fill the night instead of spending it in silence..."

—

⸙ Bellamy's Favorite Traveler's Meals ⸙

Heavily spiced lamb and potato curry, served with flatbread

From a silk merchant, traveling alone with only a few wares. She had sold most of her stock long ago, and was now traveling to the coast to sell the last of it before returning home. The spices she had acquired along the way as barter; she hoped Bellamy would like them. He did.
Mint and sweet cheese soup, with two slices of apple

From a small caravan traveling to the coast to visit family. They built two fires for the night, and spent long hours whispering to each other under the crackle of the flame. The children stared at Bellamy when they thought he wasn't looking; he didn't mind. He's used to it.
A cup of black tea, over-steeped and bitter, but sweetened with honey, and served with savory almond biscuits

From an archeologist, here to study the old road. It is from a time of old magic, he'd said, but the stones themselves were ordinary. If there were any enchantments in the desert, they were on the sands. The patterns and wear and tear of the road could reveal much about those who built it, so long ago. Bellamy had never thought of it like that before.
A slice of orange, dried and roasted in the coals

Given by a lone traveler on the way to a wedding. It tasted horrific, but carried no malice. Fruit does not grow in the silver desert; it was a new experience. The peel was pleasantly pungent. The traveler seemed frazzled; he admitted that he does not usually cook.
A single chocolate, wrapped in glossy red waxpaper, melted beyond recognition

Given by a traveler with an unknown destination. Its provider requested a game instead of a story; together they scratched signs and grids into the sand long into the evening.
Soft rolls freshly-made with cornmeal and spread with sweet rose cream and basil jelly, served with roasted fennel and almond flakes

Offered by a large caravan, an entourage fit for a prince. The sight of Bellamy sent whispers up and down the line. “Good fortune,” some murmured. “The stars smile upon us.” They pitched tents of blue fabric, thickly embroidered in brass.
Desert scorpion, par-baked, de-shelled, and fried in butter and garlic

From a fisherman, driven far from home by circumstances beyond their control. It tastes like crab, they explained, but stringier. Intriguing; the only thing rarer than fruit in the desert was seafood. The traveler offered Bellamy a dried fish to chew on, but Bellamy declined—they would need the food on the road ahead, and he hoped that they would make it, wherever they were going.

[LokisTrick]

Marking!!

[BlueEyedKite]

Withdrawing as I am focusing on my Fable short story. Good luck to all participants!

[certified]

fable name: Sebastian
music: a whole playlist! I love classical and this is one of my go-to’s
about them: WIP
Marking omg

[chromatic.]

Mark

[Butter Dragon]

fable name: Nothing
music: For the Damaged Coda.
xxxxxxIt is, admittedly, a shorter song. However I feel the silence that follows it are arguably as much a part of his character as
xxxxxxthe emotion and themes of the song itself.
about them...

The world of The Low Heavens is not a kind one. After it was abandoned by its former gods it fell into disarray, it’s people quickly turning to war to get the resources that were now so desperately lacking. It wasn’t until the advent of the new pantheon, deities said to walk the earth itself, that could never abandon it, only then did the conflict end and an age of peace was able to be ushered in as humanity was rebuilt. Life was not comfortable, it was not kind, but it had purpose. At least, for most.

They say that on the day the Fables were given their domains, one was forgotten. Hidden away in the depths of The Great Wood lies a young god, abandoned. His brethren have scattered across the world, staking claim to their dominions and already beginning to shepherd humanity as it is reborn from the ashes of its own world. Yet here lies a Fable, one no one seemed to miss, made up of leftover pieces, and with no domain to watch over. One lone individual left to pick at the scraps of a world so carefully divided. One who, perhaps in another lifetime could have been a benevolent deity, but one who they know call: Nothing.

~~~~~~~

Nothing has become a very elusive entity. Stories of him abound, though few can seem to agree on any one detail regarding either his existence or his intentions. Abandoned from the start, Nothing holds no place for brotherhood among other Fables, and has taken to considering himself a different entity from his deific brethren entirely. For better or, as most believe, for worse. Nothing's early life is so shrouded in mystery that not even those considered wealths of historic knowledge, nor even the god of such things themselves, could say with any certainty what became of Nothing after he left the boughs of The Great Wood. No one, of course, except for Nothing themself.

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Looking In The Mirror... Nothing's Introspection

xxxxxxNothing considers himself alone in the world, now and for eternity, fighting a battle that can never be achieved. After all, even should he find a way to usher in ultimate nothingness, as is his domain, then he would cease along with it. And eventually, as life is wont to do, things would return. And then who would be there to find comfort in the void, the loneliness, the quiet moments of nothing?

xxxxxxMany, if faced with the flippancy Nothing considers the whole of human existence with, and the little worth he places upon it inherently, they would consider him to be immoral, perhaps even evil. Nothing would disagree. After all, is it not the fight against nothingness that keeps all going in the end? The fear of ultimate stagnation that drives all of humanity to move and take the rest of the world along with it? In his own eyes, Nothing is not a malevolent deity but a catalyst. Perhaps, generously, a necessary evil. But necessary, to be sure.

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Parts of a Whole... The little things

⟡ There are only a select few that can even attest to Nothing's exitance. Outside of simply being an elusive character, he also has the ability to erase pieces of existence all together - something he has used liberally to erase the memories of his interactions with others in order to maintain his secrecy and distance.

⟡ Nothing has always aspired to fly. Although perhaps with a second of either of his kinds of wings he might, cursed with mismatched features he has always found the sky agonizingly far away. Because of this longing, as well as his isolation, Nothing tends to make his home in the caves of mountain tops where he can breathe the thin, cold air and imagine he were deep, deep in space where everything is quiet. Still.

⟡ Timor, deity of Fear, is similarly ostracized by both other fables and humanity. With Timor frequenting old ruins and secluded areas because of this, Timor is one of the few who recalls his interactions with Nothing. While at first Nothing wiped their brief run ins from Timor’s memory, eventually he began to feel a reluctant comradery with the fellow Fable and started to allow Timor to maintain recollection of their encounters.