The SCAA - Officially Closed!

[Wesley]

Tag, I've sent you your critique. c:
Bubbles, I'll begin writing up your critique shortly. ^^ I feel so wrong giving critique to two people applying for the same character. xD But eh, best of luck to you both I must say! ^^ I'll get right on that critique... once I find a darned banner

[Mozzy.]

Thank you <3, anything you say would help me with my form. I seem to be stuck on her history and a few other things.

Coding on an iPod is death, never do it! ;u;

[Supernuk]

Oh, thanks you guys so much for allowing me to adopt Abhaya! I'm going to try to work on some revamps for the pets that haven't been gone for. I was also wondering what "Position Pending" means on the staff page.

[Wesley]

Bubbles, I sent your critique over. ^^

Supernuk, You're quite welcome. You deserve her; I thinkthat your form was probably the favored of the round. I believe it was the only one that all four of the judges said yes to. c: As for the positioning question, it means that we currently don't have anyone in that job position spot yet. c:

Edit - Anyone feel like doing some revamps? 25, 28, and 158 could use some love and help getting adopted. <3

[kiowa.]

Darn, I didn't get 112... /must try again!/ lol
Congrats to those who won this round! I read your forms and they were awesome!

[Mozzy.]

By me, Mozerella.

Name
Avalon Periwinkle

av•a•lon/ˈavəˌlän/

The place to which Arthur was conveyed after death

per•i•win•kle/ˈperiˌwiNGkəl/

An Old World plant with flat, five-petaled flowers and glossy leaves. Some kinds are grown as ornamentals, and some contain alkaloids used in medicine

Age
1 dog year -> 17 human years
Birthday
21st September 1995
Gender
Female
♀♀
Breed
Czechoslovakian Wolfdog

The Czechoslovakian Wolfdog (or Vlčák/Vlčiak) is a relatively new breed of dog that traces its original lineage to an experiment conducted in 1955 in Czechoslovakia. After initially breeding 48 working line German Shepherds with 4 Carpathian wolves, a plan was worked out to create a breed that would have the temperament, pack mentality, and trainability of the German Shepherd and the strength, physical build, and stamina of the Carpathian wolf. The breed was engineered to assist with border patrol in Czechoslovakia but were later also used in search and rescue, schutzhund, tracking, herding, agility, obedience, and drafting. It was officially recognized as a national breed in Czechoslovakia in 1982.
The color of the hair is from yellow-grey to silver-grey, with a light mask. The hair is straight, close and very thick. The Czechoslovakian Vlčák is a typical tenacious canterer; its movement is light and harmonious, its steps are long.
Source; Wikipedia.

Weight
15.8 kg
5kg underweight for the average female Wolfdog, but Avalon is still growing.
Height
54cm and growing.

Human version by Tyasi
+ unshaded version

Personality

In A Nutshell
Kind
Loving
Intelligent
Creative
Joker
Pleaser
Obsessive

By Flyteck

Overall
Avalon isn't your typical 'good girl'. She may be kind, sweet and very loving towards everyone she meets. However, she isn't stupid or gullible, Avalon is a rather intelligent girl, and she is always providing an answer to everyone's questions. It's like all the information she has ever come across has just been sucked into her head and is permanently there for her to access. No, she does not have a photographic memory but something close to it. As well as being n.e.r.d (never ending radical dude), Avalon is a very creative character. She imagine little world and scenarios for herself, and is extremely good in the arts, both visual and other forms of art (dancing, acting ect). She enjoys acting with her friends and pranking people. Oh yes, pranks. Even though Avalon is a good girl, she still loves to have some fun. She isn't joke-funny, she's practical-funny. The people who know Avalon best don't know her for her brain; they know her for her pranks. But not everyone likes her pranks, though she tries very hard to please them. You see, Avalon thinks that everyone must like her, and then she will know she's a good person. Avalon tries very hard to make sure to please everyone. But there would always be that one single life form that doesn't like what she's up to. Avalon has a few 'problems' to make her that not so typical good girl. First, and the most noticeable, is that Avalon has a swearing problem. If something bad happens, she becomes frustrated, or just in normal conversations, there would always be a cuss. Sometimes subtle, other times it would be in the middle of class during an awkward silent period. Teachers are used to her little problem, and usually just wave it off. Another thing to set Avalon out of the crowd is that she is OCD with some things. She always walks to your left, sits behind the driver of the vehicle (minus planes) and is set on correcting everyone’s grammar. One of her friends thinks it is a serious problem, and thinks Avalon would never get a boyfriend is she keeps the OCD up.

By Stephajo on their Sugar Glider lineart

Likes
- Acting
- Friends
- School
- Calligraphy
- Ink
- Daisies
- Her pet Guinea Pig, Nalah
- Rain
- Summer
- Vintage

Fake pet by FluttershyandPanda

Dislikes
- Red
- Bullies
- Bananas
- Broken pencils
- Hoggers
- Fire
- Chemistry
- Snails
- Italian food
- Popular girls, you know, the snobbish-stuck-up ones who always get their way
- 'Monotone', her Chemistry teacher

By Animerider

Astrological Sign
Virgo

Your personal ruling planets are Mercury and Jupiter.

Abundance is the key word for the energy that Jupiter endows you with. As your ruler your abundance of energy , drive, enthusiasm and an optimism that always looks for the best in any given situation, even when others would give up long before. How can you fail with tenacity like that?
You are generous to a fault but may also reveal your demanding side in times of stress. You don't like to be proven wrong and don't easily admit defeat as you possess much intellectual pride. You have a tremendous ability to express concepts and unusual ideas in a palatable way that others can assimilate. You would do well to pursue professions that allow these creative talents to be used to the fullest.
Source; astrology.com

By Todd.

Lucky...
Number; 3 & 21
Colour; Shades of yellow
Days; Thursday & Sunday
Gemstone; Golden Topaz
Objects; 'friend' necklace and a braided band she made with her friends.

Favorite...
Book; Wow, there are too many to list..
Drink; Raspberry Ice Tea
Food; Vegetarian Pasty, Tim Tams, Vanilla Slice
TV show; Doctor Who
Movie; Back To The Future, Ghostbusters, Zombiland
Outfit; Grey 'Beatles meets Doctor Who' jumper, skinny jeans and red converse
Colour; Orange



A day in the life of Avalon Periwinkle
-crunch crunch crunch-
Avalon walked down the path in the frosty winter air. She could see that most things around her was still dusted with frost. Avalon's bright red converse shoes crunched on the path and she blew out puffs of air. It was a fair walk to the chemistry room from her locker bay; the hike was from one side of the school to the other.

Avalon's books became heavy as the walk soon ended. She'd never understood what the need was to have two textbooks in her over-sized folder, plus all her lined paper and extra lined books. Up the stairs and a short distance down the hall, her fellow peers were awaiting their teacher.

The second bell rang, a loud, annoying sound that meant that if you were late, you'd be sorry. The middle-aged teacher walked to the classroom with his arms piled high with paper. "All right chaps, today we're doing the next assignment." Most of the students grumbled as they walked in and took their usual seats. Avalon sat in the last row, so she could observe the class and they couldn't see her. She'd always hated sitting in front of people, they're eyes always burned into the back of head, judging you one everything you do or appear to be. Not one single strand of hair on your head was safe. As Avalon watched the world around her, she became tired.

Her sleep the night before wasn't great, it had been really cold and she'd allowed her Guinea Pig Nalah to sleep in her room. But Nalah was determined to keep Avalon awake all night to play, and was squeaking every 2-3 hours. As you could imagine, the squeaking was rather loud.

Avalon drifted further and further into a dangerous sleep and leaned more heavily on her hands, the pencil she was holding onto snapped. Her chin smashed into the table below, and created a loud bang. The teacher stopped talking and looked straight at her, as did all of her classmates. Avalon muttered a soft 'sorry' and gestured to the teacher to continue talking about the assignment. Her peers slowly started to turn back to the monotone voice, but the few girls in the row in front of her continued to stare. "What the hell is your problem, freak!?" was the noise that came from one of the girls' mouth. The girl's minions followed the lead by chorusing "Yeah, freak!" Avalon was now immune to the popular girls' pathetic insults. So to shut them up she progressed to swear at them and turn her attention to her broken pencil. It lay in two neat pieces in front of her. The pencil itself was a shade of lavender, and had little butterflies on it. All in all, it was her favourite pencil, one given to her on her birthday the previous year by her best friend. Sure, it came in a set of five, but Avalon likes the lavender one best.

The remaining 40 minutes of the lesson finally came to an end, and Avalon made a mad dash to her study area. She was so glad she had a free period second on a Monday. There, in the entrance to the building, stood the three best people in the world to Avalon, her best friends.

Amaryllis, Frederina and Bubbles were holding large amounts of books in their arms, waiting outside the door for Avalon. "Hey looser!" Avalon called out to Bubbles, who scalded her when she walked past. Bubbles was Avalon's best friend, and in being so was the owner of the 'best' butterfly necklace. The girls walked in silence into the large open building, the only noises they heard were coming from the Year 12's room on the far side of the building and some noises from the teachers' offices. "Damn, someone's in trouble." Fred kindly noted when the girls made their way to their study room. Technically, it wasn't theirs, but they seemed to be the only ones who wanted to use it. Both Bubbles and Avalon hated sitting out in the open space, they didn't like the fact that everyone could see what they were doing and they could act in their usual ways. But Bliss and Fred never seemed to get any work done while they were in the room, Avalon always found a way to distract them all.

They all set their books down and took their usual seats. As she always did, Bliss produced her Psychology textbook and notes, and was already frantically writing stuff down. Fred had her Health books, and she too was writing things down. Avalon and Bubbles were more laid back than Bliss and Fred with their study. Avalon brought out her Drama book and started to write more on her solo production. Bubbles was doing more work on her Biology tasks.

The room they were in was a small square shape. It had two desks pushed up against each other in the middle, and four chairs neatly pushed in under the table. There is a heater on the wall opposite the doorway, and a large roof the floor window on the adjacent wall to the door. It was dull and plain, but it served it’s job of keeping the girls’ study time private and the noise they made in there could not be heard by anyone else.


By ~Erratic~

General Background
Full name; Avalon Rose Periwinkle
Date of Birth; September 21st 1995
Place of birth; Bellona Public Hospital, Bellona, Australia
Current age; 16
Gender; Female
Mother; Hollianna Leigh Periwinkle
Father; George Henry Periwinkle
Siblings; Nevada Lilly Periwinkle
Current occupation; Waitress at 'Queen's Cafe' and member of staff at a local dog training facility
Education; Doing year 11 at Bellona Secondary College
Hobbies; Photography, designing clothing, acting, dancing, arts, cooking and gardening
Dream job; Working as a professional photographer, working as a volunteer in a 3rd wold country to help aid children, a career in teaching
Where you will be in 5 years; In university studying bachelor of art and teaching (double degree) with a major in performing arts and sociology

General Background on her friends

Name: Amaryllis
Nickname: Bliss
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Breed: Saluki

Name: Frederina
Nickname: Fred
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Breed: Border Collie

Name: Bubbles
Nickname: Moz
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Breed: Domestic Cat

By .Blue.

I've PM'd FieryFilly & ChiCha about the adoption and she's fine with it.

Username
Mozerella.

Kennel Number
Number 1

How & Why?
♥
I've been eyeing her for a while now, but haven't really had any muse to apply. Now I do, with a new way of writing and I'm coming after Avalon. She is a beauty; her natural colours are something that I'm craving right now. And the yellow + white flecks are just wonderful. I feel she would be great in the story I'm hoping to write as the main character, in human form though. But as well as starring in the story, Avalon would be a loved character here who would receive nothing but the finest care from me. I promise to look after her and use her.

The human side of Avalon
Avalon is a 17-year-old girl of average height. She has golden-brown curly hair and she has silver eyes. Avalon's skin is a tanned brown, giving off a wonderful glow on sunny days. Her tan is permanent, but does fade slightly in the colder months. She has 3 piercings, 1 in each ear and a nose-stud. Her usual outfit is skinny jeans, a light coloured hoodie and converse. She is always wearing jewellery and has a necklace that she never takes off. It's a silver necklace with half a butterfly on it and has 'friend' engraved in it.

Art
Original artwork;
{x}

Art I've ordered;
By Mᴏʀɴɪɴɢ Gʟᴏʀʏ
By redk17
By Perididdle on their Summer Lineart
By Mozerella.
By Mozerella.
By amour.

Both by Kaede
Anthro by K1da
Also by K1da
By savannah.
By .:sea~foam:.

By Betzabel
Also by Betzabel

By .:Myth Lady:.
Also by .:Myth Lady:.

By ω ι ℓ ∂ ♥

wip.

Cherry Coke

[Supernuk]

Username: Supernuk48
Kennel Number: #28
Revamp:
Lines Artist Credits or Link: Mavric's Wolf editable
Plantains

I really hope someone tries for her this round. She's a charrie with a lot of potential.

[Wesley]

Oh my goodness; you made her look ever so darling. :0 I do have a nice idea for a story; I may have to try out for her myself. <33 :'D

[Daniel]

Username:
Tag

Kennel Number:
1

Name:
Dust

I was told that dust was a bad thing.
That dust should be cleaned, surfaces made shiny again.
I feel dust has a certain quality of beauty to it when it is shuffled and moved around.
It glitters in the sunlight and can be found far and wide. No where is safe from its settling.

Gender:
Male

Species:
Wolf :: Human



These are by Sára and รєค glass, respectively.

Written and Verbal Personalities:

The Human

Dust keeps to himself, often apt to sheltering within coffee houses and bus shelters even when it is sunny out.
He is a rather plain young man of no particular descent or attractiveness and wears a gold hoodie with many stars.
He also wears grubby strips of cloth on his wrists, which he ties and unties when he is agitated or frustrated by something.
He has no problems with going out on the town, at which point he will don glitter and eye make up.
Adaptable :: Spontaneous :: Observant

Look, I understand. I'm just another scruff that you can toss aside. You don't have to stick around, honestly. It isn't worth your time. I mean, look at these clothes, I'm practically still a teenager. Grown men don't wear hoodies and hang around in bus shelters. What's that? Oh, sure, you can have one too. It's not like they're doing me any good.
I used to hang out in this coffee shop you see, but the women there were old enough to be my parents. They treated me like their child and I didn't like how they were always fussing over me. The coffee though, with whipped cream and sprinkles. Made me feel wanted, at least. They were only making up for their own sons and daughters though, passed away, at school or living alone. I didn't want to know about their lives and didn't pay much attention.
My job? Oh, I'm a photographer. I photograph the stars. Or as close as we can get to them living in this dank place. I hate the smell, the slate grey of pavement and buildings. The closest I can come to them is in the clubs, where the lights flash and everything smells like perfume. Cheap perfume, at that. I watch them, they come back each night, each week, going through the same pattern of behaviors. That's where I come in with the clicking and the compliments. They lap it up, of course. That's how I make my money. I barely stay on top. I get the rest where I can. Odd jobs, this and that.
Look, I have to go. Places to be. It was good meeting you. Maybe we'll see each other again.
We won't.

The Hero

Dust is a straggler, disliking staying around in one place and making the best out of the situations he finds himself in.
He gives advice, scouts for trouble and decides on the way forwards or how to attack.
He is considered of great importance, due to this and has helped some others out of various circumstances.
Loyal :: Industrious :: Attentive

I did what they wanted, of course and while I would go out of my way to get attention, it was a lingering feeling that crept up on me. I wasn't as good as they said, I never was. I had fooled these people into believing I was something I was not. They congratulated me and looked up to me for advice, knowledge. I bluffed my way through every second of it. This was why I wasn't worthy of the rewards anymore. I got others to do my work for me and scraped by most of the time. If my parents could see me they would be proud of my deceitful ways, my scrounging and grasp over others. They would though, disprove of the weakness I suffered, the inability to take that one last step to seal the deal. They wouldn't be impressed. That is why I allow people to see me as a hero. Someone I am not.

The Beast

Dust is very misunderstood, but you shouldn't feel too sorry for him.
You see, other wolves think of him as well traveled and a figure to be respected.
With such a brash scattering of gold to his fur he has accustomed himself to compliments and has become quite vain as a result.
While he is tolerant to others and happy to play along he is untrustworthy although he often hides it well.
He is usually very dependable on his planning and decisions but that is his way of being tactful and advancing.
Discreet :: Assertive :: Self-Confident

The other wolves watch me with dead eyes. They have no grasp over their lives. They are driven by instinct, urges beyond their own control. This leaves me with the upper hand, my talent to manipulate and divide them. They aren't worth killing. I stand among them, keeping my faults to myself. Blind to it, they were, I doubt they would have noticed anyway. The packs welcome me to them, a fresh face to slot into place.
The only pack I feel I have ever considered really part of was my original pack, the half-starved wolves that jumped every time they heard something new. Vile, I take after them. The calmness settles upon me most of the time but I am prone to snapping and turning violent to the younger members. I cannot bear them. A swift lunge to the neck would be all it would take. The elders, I use to my advantage, playing them, pulling them to my side.
I have sometimes gone from one pack to a next without notice, no warning uttered. I have given away secrets, details, driven them upon each other. These lesser creatures are mine for the bidding.

History/Background:

~~ As a wolf

I was born nameless, just another wolf to fill a missing slot in the pack. My parents were ragged individuals, amber and cream, each as dim witted as the next. I watched the others from within the confines of the den, how they moved and acted. They were sluggish creatures but quick to turn to violence. Their only thoughts were where the next meal came from and protecting their territory from outsiders.
The first few weeks outside of the den were joyless, torn from the playfulness and put through countless initiations and tests. They behaved abnormally, or that was how I felt. Perhaps it was me that was different. Was I not the same as them? My other siblings teased me for my lack of aptitude and the whole pack grew to ignore me. I tried my best to fit in with them, to do their wishes, but it was difficult and I found myself struggling and failing time and time again.
Their disappointment in me was particularly painful, a certain type of resentment that was never uttered. They were loyal, that much could be said for them. They did not strive to push me out of the pack, they did not force me to leave. My parents would have been content with me forever following them as an omega.
One night I simply rose from where I had settled and scattered into the night breeze. They would not miss me, they would accept it and then go on with their lives. They would find a way to replace me, like they had done with so many before.
It was at this point that I found myself alone. I had been wiped clean from my prior life. I was still young and I'm sure this worked to my advantage when I finally picked up the scents of new wolves and began to follow them. They watched, silent as the others had been and studied me. I was persistent and was accepted readily within the pack. They kept their gaze on me, curious. Not too long later, I grew to notice their admiration was in my fur. It was a peculiar color, that I was aware, their own dull grey and silver pelts blending in with the surroundings.
They saw in me what my own family had not been able to see, for I had looked no different standing among them. It was this that was my one hope of ever being able to survive. I basked in their admiration and let them glorify me as a valued member of their pack. I don't honestly think it was that I was particularly good at anything. I did what they told me and perhaps made others do more than their fair share of the work. I reaped the rewards, though. I didn't have to sit idly by anymore, shunned by my peers.
It wasn't enough though. Never was, as it turned out. I grew tired of their incessant behaviors and the utter silence. The howling and barking was loud enough though, a never ceasing hurl of jumbled meanings. None of it made any real sense. I could not communicate with these creatures. I had to find those that could fully understand me.
And so I left. Just as I always did thereafter. A lingering habit, perhaps. Some residue of instinct left behind in the dust.

~~ As a human

I was born on a council estate and it wasn't the most joyous of areas. It was divided between the working class and those who did nothing with their lives. Each took to their own and there was little congregation between these separate groups. My mother and father were both remarkably average in their own ways. My mother, she stayed at home, looking after my other siblings and cleaning the apartment. She did not like it to be untidy although it often was, in the state we left it. My father was a construction worker, helping to build the much-needed structures in the center of the town. He was not particularly distant by nature, he just wasn't at home the majority of the time. I grew into a certain state of resentment towards them both, for they were always busy and never had time for me.
My siblings, now they were different. They were very loudmouthed and were always running around, thinking they knew exactly what was going on with the world and how to take advantage of it. My older brothers had long since left, living alone or with their girlfriends in equally decrepit estates. I had others though, younger sisters. My sisters were the most loved of the family, for the long streak of boys had left my mother weary. As I was the last of the brothers left behind, I was left out of most occasions and found myself often alone.
I went to a rather well respected school, that should be pointed out. My father pulled in enough money to grant me that certain privilege. The only thing he hoped was for me to do well with my studies and get a good job- and move out as soon as possible. I felt hate at this, for my older brothers had done little with their lives and my sisters looked to go in a similar direction. I did my best but my math was lacking and I had no interest in science. My most preferred classes were creative classes, such as music and art. I did well at sports but disliked the trivial competitions and constant complaining that issued from the more lethargic of pupils.
Needless to say, my father was not impressed. I had failed with the more seemingly intelligent studies and my disinterest of sports left him to wonder what I was actually good at. I knew he wouldn't like my art and we were never the family that had time to sit around listening to music, so I did not partake in sharing these with him.
It was with college that I discovered my true interest in photography. It was a hobby that I loved, taking pictures of the neighborhood, the people and the animals that strayed in my direction. Needless to say, no one liked having a camera snapping away in their faces, although my sisters did often jostle to stay in frame. I have stayed in touch with them and them only, sometimes stopping in at their new houses. It was not their fault that they were the reason I had been placed in the corner.
As most were at that age, I was quite a fan of the partying and nightlife that the town offered. I went out alone most nights and found myself more often in the limelight than not. I gathered friends, acquaintances and followers. Some were from college, others people I met by chance and some that sought me out. It was this way that I was recruited as a photographer, for the manager of one bar had noticed me with my crowd of friends and my camera and had seen a prospect in me, an advantage for their self and their establishment.
I took the job and enjoyed it at first, until it became a chore. I didn't appreciate having to stay sober, it in turn led me to see people in their stupor. They were silly creatures, driven by emotions and liquor. It was me alone that could see them this way. The staff laughed at them, they poked fun whilst still managing to keep their grins under control and to suck up to the customers. It was a sad fact that no one ever caught onto this, they all thought that everyone enjoyed their company. Or maybe it was just me, distrustful and opposed to what I had got myself into.
I spent my commissions on new clothes and squandered the rest away on my perceived friends, to once more fit in, to become the person that everyone wanted to be around. It wasn't the same though, I had grown out of it. I had seen how they all acted to each other and knew that it was probably no different when it came to me.
My parents were not happy about my job and lifestyle and I was no longer welcome in the apartment most of the time. This is when I took to hanging out during the day, tired and lusterless, the night having taken the life out of me. I had tried my best and there seemed to be no turned back at that point. I asked my father for money and he was happy to accept, on the condition I used it to move out. He had had quite enough with having another mouth to feed, another room set aside for a failure of a son.
I took the money and left. Of course, he had given me no special amount, just enough for a smaller place closer to town. My wage barely provided me with enough to pay the rent and the nights were taking their toll. I had, since taking the first job, been pushed on, shuffled around. Different managements took me on and the same managements laid me off. Apparently there was no need for me outside of the more popular times of the year and it became more difficult to find people willing to hire me on. I became a scavenger myself, staying at other peoples' houses, posing as their friends, doing as needed to survive.
They were nice, they all were, but I couldn't stay. I knew to some I was just another stray, to others a disappointment soon to occur. I flitted around, leaving people behind, often going home with those that I barely knew. It wasn't something I disliked and for the most part they were decent people, willing to lend a hand and give me a meal and a place to rest.
And this is where my story begins.

His markings were what initially drew me in, in particular the scattering of dust on his back.
Each time I have received a piece of artwork, I have loved the results.
I have enjoyed developing on his personality and background and he would be a well used character if I adopted him.
I would include him in writing as a character and also in art by himself and with my characters.
He would have the forms of wolf and also that of a human.

[Permission from FieryFilly & ChiCha]

This is by KatieisaPanda.

Birthday:
June 6th

Star Sign:
Taurus
"...a negative or passive (introvert) sign.
This gives the characteristics of being reflective, receptive to the ideas of others: typically, a 'thinker' rather than a 'doer.'"

"Taurus is considered by astrologers to be a highly practical sign...
happiest when involved in some kind of creative process"

"Generally considered easy-going and placid, as a fixed sign Taureans are likened to the bull in being slow to show anger, but capable of raging if pushed too far."

Wolf

Age :
Three

Rank:
Varies from Beta - Omega, depending on packs.
As he has been young up until now,
he has found it easy to integrate among other packs.
Now, as he is growing older and truth be told, loosing some charm,
he will find that more difficult.
He will have to find himself a secure pack and a secure position
before he becomes a permanent straggler.

Likes:
Night.
Shiny, sweet or colorful objects.
Experience.
Obedience.

Dislikes:
Loud or high pitched noises.
Animals smaller than himself.
Warm weather.
Disrespect.



Mate:
There are currently no plans to breed or give Dust a mate.
Why no mate?
I don't see one fitting into his personality and behaviors.
He is more likely to have close but casual friends,
and be acquainted with valuable allies.

Human

Age:
Twenty One

Job: Nightclub Photographer - commission only.

Favorites:
Drink: Strong Coffee.
Food: Sweet Treats, Eggs over easy, Sausages, Bacon.
Color: Gold, Green.
Place: Riding the subway.
Females: Pretty, makeup and accessories.
Males: Tall, insightful, higher rank.
Hobby: Photography, Art, Failing at Crosswords.
Song: Calvin Harris ft. Example - We'll Be Coming Back
Time of year: Summer.

Written Description:
Dust isn't a particularly tall man,
standing chin high to most other males his age.
His frame is slender to none.
His clothing would probably be best suited to someone a little younger,
taking to wearing scruffy jeans and t-shirts.
The one thing that makes him identifiable is the hoodie he wears,
which has faded gold stars scattered over it.
At this stage,
there is nothing that makes him stand out against a crowd.

For his job and general pleasure,
he enjoys dressing up for going out at night.
He can sometimes come off particularly flamboyant at times,
scattering glitter and carefully drawing in makeup around his eyes.
Adaptable, however, he tends to act on the behavior of others,
Rarely does he find trouble getting the attention of others.

My character and fursona Caliber and Tag, with Dust
Art by Spotlover



Other Written Work

In the end, I decided to add these back to show some of the work I did.
They have a male x male focus.

The club was alive, bouncing bodies crowded together, making their way to the dance floor and staggering up to the bar to purchase another drink. To my left a couple were brawling over a dispute involving a rather attractive young girl who had made a pass at the husband. The girl in question went to my college, she wasn’t worth fighting over. He hadn’t even responded to her advances. Too much alcohol. I looked at my own glass. It wasn’t the most pleasant of drinks but it was one of the cheapest available. Certainly, on my merger budget I would not be able to afford anything else. I shook the glass and took a swig. It was acidic, with a bitter edge. It was getting hot, the clamminess settling in once again. I didn’t like it here, my friends always abandoned me once we reached our destination, even now they were having the time of their lives. Of course, in the morning, they would be all smiles and jokes, thanking me for coming with them and gleefully recalling events that had never happened. Truth told, I think they were just bored of me, I wasn’t like them in the way that they were outgoing and high on life. I watched them nervously, hoping that they would come back, to invite me to join them. They didn’t of course. Far too busy for the likes of me.
I would be much too gone to care soon anyway and it would be a wonder to wake up not knowing where I was, like so many nights before. I took another gulp of the mixture. Boy, it was hot. My red tank top clung to me, sweat tracing the stitching. I couldn’t remember how many I had drunk already. I was low on funds, I could at least remember that much. I ran my fingers through my hair and felt dampness. A bellow of smoke from the fog machine leapt out at me and I coughed, regretting leaving my inhaler behind. What use would it have been though, honestly? All it would have done would be to show me up more than I was already achieving.
My heart thudded in my chest and I could feel the music pulsing through my veins. A dizziness swept over me suddenly and I stood in surprise, hanging onto the chair. Nausea and paranoia hit me like a bull and I could feel eyes on me, people jeering and sniggering behind my backs. A man began to walk towards me, a leer on his face. I would sense his intentions. This wasn’t the best of places to be hanging out in. I had gone home with many people without my so called friends even noticing. It was the highlight of my nights out, a sickening thought by itself. I was younger than most people in the club and my appearance did not help with that. The top stuck against my dark figure made me look more vulnerable than it should.
He reached me and held out a hand. I took it and he helped me to stand. I could feel his own friends mocking me even as he began to introduce himself. I was known around here and it was unlikely this was a random person who had just now seen me. That didn’t matter though. He leaned in close and offered me another drink, spirits and hints lingering on his tongue. This man was older than me by years and he looked attractive enough, not that I was picky when it came to attention.
The world twirled around me, spinning. I almost fell again and the man stifled a laugh. Younger even than I was now; I wouldn’t have noticed their true attitudes and thoughts about me. It made me feel desperate that I was still here even though I knew.
A bright flash of light struck me, then again. The man stood back, somewhat shocked. Another male, a little younger, stood beside me. He had a bright smile plastered on his face and a camera held up. His fingers twitched and indicated to the badge on his chest. He worked for the club, evidentially. I hadn’t seen him before now. The first man made to pull me away but the photographer didn’t look like he was at all fazed by the arrogance displayed.
“Give the boy a break,” he said, his voice calm, loud enough to hear as the music faded to be replaced by another song. “This one’s had too much to drink, you know that.”
The first man made for another grab at me, a gruff reply drowned out by the thudding of the base as the music started up again. The photographer wasn’t having any of it, a charming smile still tugging at his lips. He dropped the camera, which was hanging from a strip around his neck and reached out, his hand grasping mine. Fingers entwined and his other arm curled around my shoulders, ushering me away from the man. I went with him, fingers tight around his. What he must be thinking of me, sticky and intoxicated, about to go head off with a complete stranger. One that he seemed to know well, at that.
We made our way through the throng to the doors of the club. He let go of me and opened them for me. In a haze, I stepped out and wrapped my arms around myself, the sudden cold of the chilled night breeze hitting me. It was a welcome relief from the hot club but the drastic change of atmosphere left me feeling sicker than I had before. Where was I to go? Back home? I had been physically removed from the club, I wasn’t welcome there. Once again, my friends hadn’t even noticed me leaving. Or maybe they had and they were talking about me right now. I was alone again.
The doors swung shut behind me and a car rolled by on the street, gatherings of youths standing around drinking and laughing. Would it be pointless to go back into the club now, to try to persuade a friend to help me get home? Of course it would.
“Never did like cars,” that same voice said from behind me. I looked round to see the photographer leant on the wall, a lit cigarette in his hand. “Never getting one, prefer public transport. Not worth the risk.”
I tried to hold back my emotions. He hadn’t gone back in and abandoned me on the doorsteps of the town ahead. He grinned at my failed attempts and then glanced away, taking a draw. I could tell he was glad it hadn’t been in vain. I thought of something to say, to express my gratitude but the words wouldn’t make it past my lips. A small stammer and that was all.
“You’re going to have to speak up,” he said, stubbing out the end and flicking it towards a nearby bin. It bounced off of it.
Disheartened that he might give up and leave, I managed to pull my wits together.
“You know that man?”
He pushed off from the wall and came towards me, laying a hand on my shoulder, “I know him more than I should. Let’s leave it at that. What’s your name then, don’t leave me hanging.”
“My friends call me Cally.”
“Well, Cally. Where are they now? No, don’t answer that. I think we both already know. You can call me Dust, everyone does.”
The name did trigger something in my memories and I remembered him. He was never someone I had actually spoken to but I could recall him within the club on occasions before. He was the club’s photographer and I had often seen him in passing, taking photos of the prettier party goers. He had looked my way on occasion and I was sure now that he had seen my usual habits before. A faint blush heated my cheeks. He seemed not to notice.
His hand was warm on my skin, eyes staring towards a couple of girls whom were giggling and playfully pushing each other around. I was losing him again. There was no way someone as average as me could keep his attention. He was barely taller than me and I had always been short but he looked rather attractive. His blonde hair was ruffled and his eyes gleamed in the streetlight, carefully daubed gold eyeliner around one eye. Glitter covered his bare skin, perhaps rubbed off from some girl dancing.
Dust sighed and I noticed he was looking at me again, watching me staring. His fingers dug in a little on my shoulder then he let his arm drop, trailing the length of mine and then resting at his side. He had bandages on his arms, more for accessory’s sake than anything I guessed; there was no way someone like him would fall into my own ways.
“You’re too young for me, anyway,” he said. “I like them older.”
I took this as an offense, “I’m old enough. It’s not like I’m some kid you can just push aside. I’m quite capable.”
“Sure you are,” he said, with an edge of sarcasm. “I need more to drink for this. Don’t you have somewhere to be going?”
I looked away and thought. It was very late, my parents would be in bed and they did not allow me a key, even though I should’ve rightfully been given one by now. If I went back, I would have to wake them and then they would lecture me on staying out. No, I didn’t want to go home. My expression clearly said it all.
“You can come back to my place. It’s not the best.”
I looked up at him to see him studying me, taking into account my appearance for the first time. Things looked hopeful, he didn’t seem displeased. Anything had to be better than the arguments that lay at home.
“I’d like that, where is it?”
“A walk, not that far away. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
Dust set off along the pavement, his pace brisk. I followed along quietly, shuffling around the people to follow him. I had got used to the breeze now and welcomed it as I tried to keep up. He looked over his shoulder and saw me hurrying to catch up, and then paused to wait for me. When I reached him he took me by the arm and pressed me against the wall. He leaned in, cheek against mine, his lips by my ear. He had a subtle amount of stubble on his chin and it scratched me as he took a deep breath.
“You know you can go home. I’m sure there are people waiting for you there.”
I laid my palms on his chest as he pressed against me, shaking my head as best I could with the room available. His presence was overpowering, an indistinguishable scent on him. He was sober; there was no hint of alcohol to him. The camera dug into me, a reminder that he was being serious. His hand was strong, still holding my arm, thumbing one of the grooves that snaked across it.
“I’m going back to yours.”
He pulled away still holding my hand. It slid down to hold my hand and once more we set off. He didn’t walk as fast now, letting me maintain my pace. His fingers played with mine, the trailing end of a bandage soft against my skin. He didn’t talk now though, keeping an eye ahead of us. I wasn’t sure what to say, or even if that was what I should do, so I kept quiet. Cars whistled by and the odd reveller pushed past us but he did not react. The whole time, he stayed silent and never looked at me.
We reached his place and he entered a code on a security pad. It wasn’t a house, rather several smaller places divided up from one. He began to climb the stairs and I hesitantly waited at the bottom.
“Are you coming, Cally?”
I followed him up. Someone was playing loud music in the room next to his. He groaned and rolled his eyes as he opened his door and stepped aside to allow me to pass. The nausea that I had originally felt at the club suddenly sweltered back but I took the step forwards and walked in. He followed behind me, shutting the door. He touched my back briefly and passed by, sitting at a table by the window.
It was a smallish room, with a bed, a non-descript television, table, chairs and two more doors leading off into what I appeared to be a bathroom and a cupboard. Cautiously, I sat at the table with him and looked out at the street. It was very quiet out there now but the music still pounded away through the walls. He had been right about it not being the best of places but I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting. It wasn’t messy but he clearly didn’t value it as much as he should. At least he had a place to himself.
The tail tale sound of the camera whirred and I looked around just in time for it to flash in my face.
“You’re great photographing material,” he confessed, gearing the camera up for another go. “Surprised you’ve never come up for a picture. Never smile though; we can’t be having that now, can we? No stars got on the front of a magazine with a glum look on their face.”
It flashed and the light glared into my eyes.
“You know what, Cally. We should see each other more often, maybe again in the club. How’s your head?”
“Still banging, that music isn’t helping.”
“I’m sure it’s not. I’ve tried to get him to turn it down but he just won’t listen to me. I’ll have to do something about that. No matter for now, though. More important things to be doing.”
He was sprawled in the chair, leaning away from me. A strip of blonde hair had flopped over his eye and he was agitatedly picking at the threads in the bandages. His level gaze was on me though, waiting for me to make a move.
“Dust?”
“Yes, Cally?”
“Photograph me again.”

He looked happier than I had first met him, a smile breaking through the insecurity he had previously shown. He was small in stature, thin and frail looking. He had been easily taken advantage of, although I had fallen for his charm. It wasn’t something I was particularly pleased about. Never was, I had fallen for people countless times and each time left them behind. This would be different, he knew where I lived and worked. There was no doubt he would be back for me.
“You need to be going,” I said, moving his hand away from me. There was nothing more I could say, without risking things being taken further.
Cally frowned, bewilderment creeping across his face. I looked away; I didn’t want to see that. I would be swayed and then he would never leave. He didn’t want to go, it was obvious. I knew though, I was just an escape, someone he could use to avoid his family. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Standing, I crossed to the door and held it open. He left, quietly and calmly, walking out and down the stairs. He didn’t look back; he knew what the response would be.
I turned, shutting the door. The room looked particularly plain without him. Leaning by the window, I watched him appear in the yard. His skin shone with the glitter that had rubbed off onto him. He stopped at the gate and turned back, as if he was going to buzz himself back up. I wished him to leave, for I would have gladly let him back in at that point. He didn’t though, much to my sudden regret. He left, disappearing down the street and back to his own life. I wouldn’t be seeing him again.
I hunted down my bottle of spirits and plonked it on the table in front of me. I hadn’t offered him any; he’d had more than enough. Grabbing a mislaid glass from the windowsill, I poured myself a shot. It was sweet, with a tangy aftertaste. Alcohol had been something I sometimes turned to, for my mother had been particularly adept at sneaking bottles around the house without us noticing. With age, though, we had taken to stealing it ourselves and she’d never bring it up, not wanting to give away her secret. Perhaps she had thought that it had just magically vanished away in the night.
At least the music had stopped. The tenant would be asleep for the next few hours and then it would start back up as it always had done. I hadn’t slept well, sitting awake at the table the majority of the night while my guest snoozed his night away, delirious to my agony. I plucked the bandages around my arms and winced faintly. The bandages were makeshift arm supports, to accommodate my joint pain, the tingling and numbness that reached my fingers. It was worse when I drank, my fingers losing their will and ending up haphazardly all over the place.
When I had been much younger, my mother had slipped and fallen on the concrete nearby our block. It hadn’t been through fault of her own as the ground had been slippery, if I remember my story right. She grew unconscious and I was left crying beside her. A neighbour saw us out of a window and came down to help us. We both went to the hospital and I needed a scan for my injuries. I had fractured bones in my arms and the resulting infliction left me with nerve damage running the lengths of them. They fixed me up as best they could but my arms were never quite the same again. The bandages helped a little with that.
My fingers twitched in recollection as the drink started to settle in. I had another. This day was going to be the same boring day it had always been. I would wander the streets, looking for things to do, people to meet. I rarely made contact with them, for many were bustling this way and that, no time for me. No time for anyone but themselves.
I picked up my hoodie from where it had been slung and drew it over myself. It was a little too big for me even now, hanging around my arms and waist. It was comforting though and I liked to wear it when I wasn’t working. I headed out into the street, stopping only to light another cigarette. I had been putting off stopping smoking and while I had managed to cut down, they had stayed part of my life. Picked that one up from my brothers.
I was hungry; I hadn’t eaten since the morning before. It wasn't the highest of my priorities. I had earned something though, by saving that boy.
I walked the way Cally had gone, back into the centre of town. Those who were not yet at work were suited and dressed up, on their way to engagements and meetings. Mothers and their children were huddled around the shops, laughing with each other and discussing past events and arranging for more to come. Everyone had such full lives; it left me feeling emptier than I had before.
A woman, whom I had seen many times before, was busking in front of one of the more popular supermarkets. She was a well-built lady but with a haggard look to her. I dropped some change into her upturned guitar case and she smiled at me as I continued on my way.
I don’t know why I offered her money. Still, she was a friendly woman. Decent, I hoped. It didn’t matter anyway; it wouldn’t change things for either of us.
I stopped in front of the window to a café and stared absentmindedly at the folk enjoying their brunches and English breakfasts. I didn’t have time for that, nor the cash. Maybe when I collected my pay check I would be able to treat myself. Other things were called for, for instance, where I would be living once I was finally kicked out of my rental. They didn’t allow smokers, nor appreciated me bringing strangers back to it. It didn’t help that I put off paying my rent often, for I always wanted to spend it on other things. It didn’t seem fair to me that the other tenant could play his music as loud as he wanted and get away with it. It was just me. They didn’t like me.
I spent the rest of the morning sitting in a bus shelter, watching people commute around, fulfilling tasks and doing business. They were ignorant to my watching but did feel the need to give me distasteful looks when I lit up my smokes. Good, glad they noticed me at last.
“How about busses? Do you like them?”
I didn’t need to look around; I knew who it was, standing to my left, nervous and flighty.
“You’ve been watching me for half an hour now,” I replied. “Is that really all you could come up with?”
He came closer and sat on the bench beside me, scuffing his shoes back and forth on the pavement. He was looking at me intently, not only could I see him in the corner of my eye but could feel it set upon me. I had known he’d been lurking on the other side of the street for a while now, thinking of something to say. I gave him credit for approaching. I would have usually just left something like that behind.
“I was thinking,” he said, softly. “We should see each other again, like you said.”
“You could’ve just waited until later. I do have work to go to, you know. It’s not all smoking, drinking and sitting at bus shelters.”
“I wanted to see the pictures.”
I rolled my eyes towards him and saw his concerned face, his hands twisting together, waiting for my approval at his appearance. He seemed genuine; he wasn’t going to leave if I ignored him. I heaved a sigh and sat back against the plastic sheeting. His hand was resting on my arm, I hadn’t even noticed. His nails dug into the hoodie, a pleading look on his face.
“Well, that’s different. Left the camera at home though, couldn’t you tell?”
“It’s okay; we don’t have to go back.”
I managed to hold back a stifled laugh as he called me out on that. He was too good looking by far, it was no use. It wasn’t like I was going to be doing anything else for the rest of the day. Well, there was sleep but I didn’t think there was much chance of that happening.
Standing, I turned back to him and held out a hand to pull him up. He stood, once again that charming smile lighting up his face. He looked better when he smiled. I wished I could do the same but my energy had been left drained. The lethargy was kicking in again. A familiar tinge of pins and needles flickered into my fingertips. I involuntary clenched my hand around his, a hint of pain managing to reach my face.
"Dust?"
"I'm fine, don't worry. I just need a drink."
He didn't look convinced and neither did I.

Stamp by doubleArrows

Dust had grown weary of it all, the constant striving for perfection seemed too far out of his grasp. He had settled on the fact that he would forever be confined to snapping pictures of an endless stream of mismatched couples. There was no doubt he enjoyed this activity, but it had become more of a chore and he didn't want to spend any more time on it.
Instead, he rose up and became one with the crowd, the heaving mass of colors on the dance floor. They circled and beckoned him closer for an offer of a drink, to take their photo, anything to please them and them only. He ignored them, crouching down amidst them and pulling the straps of the camera over his head. If he could catch a moment of these people without them posing or waving, desperate for attention, he could perhaps capture the true nature of them.
Perhaps, just for then, they would be perfection, the stars of all that around them.

------

The wolf hung back from the others, his fur caked in dirt and other unsavory things. His front legs were scraped and the usual brightness of his pelt was duller in places than it had been before. They stayed low, circling ahead, a snarl or pounce thrown at him when he drew too close. He stayed steady, for they would certainly attack if he showed a sign of weakness.
If he had been a little younger, it may have been easier to integrate himself into their pack like it had been with those before. Now, they saw him as a true rival. Their eyes glowed amber against the night, jaws hung loose, heavy paws snapping bracken underneath. They actually expected him to leave, to be scared away by their showy attempts at dominance.
The challenge had been set and the wolves that he had left behind now lay in wait.

Other art:

Symphony Art (Original) - [X]

General Notes:
I have ordered art for two reasons:
1. I love his design and wanted to get him art so I could see more of it.
I chose the image at the top of my form to use as the main reference.
2. I wanted to make aware that if I adopted him, I would be willing to order art.
I got a little carried away
Some did not make it in time for the code drop.

A night scene by Lirrie

A snowy scene by Lirrie

On The Roof by Lirrie

Northern Lights by Lirrie


This is by Kaede

Sunset scene by arcticwolf

Desktop Background by WinterWings

This is by Peace&Colby, on their LW05 line art

This is by Wolf Warrior Larka on their line art


This is by Enzo

This is by Raverwolf101

This is also by Raverwolf101 + transparent version

This is yet again by Raverwolf101, on their Huggable Petz line art.

This is by tennisbutt

This is by Liru Kaulitz


This is also by Liru Kaulitz

This is an anthro by K1da + Sketch

This is by jack frost.

This is also by jack frost.

This is a neko headshot by skittles.

This is a bump sign by skittles.


This is an avatar by skittles.

Human (Daytime) by skittles.

Human (Nighttime) by skittles.

This is by Arachnid on CS

This is by W O L F Y.

This is by Abissh


This is by sweetypie978.

This is also by sweetypie978.

This is by doubleArrows.

This is a reference sheet by horselover0726

This is by .:Myth Lady:. on CS, on their Squid Jugglers line art

This is by ~☻lancey☻~


This is by corgie, on their Starries lineart

This is by Kadbury on their wolf lineart

This is by Ikarin

This is by amour.

This is by Silverscratch on their MLP line art.
- One off, guys, couldn't resist it xD

This is by รєค glass.

This is by corgie.


Fake pets by Wolf Blood Song

This is by bear

This is by gailagj + doglover

Cherry Coke

[byyrde]

Username: Festus(CH)
Kennel Number: #4
Revamp:

Lines Artist Credits or Link:
By Me
Plantains

Kennel Number: #8
Revamp:

Lines Artist Credits or Link:
By Me
Plantains

Kennel Number: #19
Revamp:

Lines Artist Credits or Link:
By Me
Plantains

Kennel Number: #61
Revamp:

Lines Artist Credits or Link:
By Me
Plantains