[capone.]

Username:
Name:
Gender: (Genderless; male pronouns)
History:
Personality:

res

[. : cry : .]

End date added!
Ends on April 25th!

[. : cry : .]

le bump

[Roadhog]

up...

[. : cry : .]

Username: marco bodt

A leather-bound journal lays half buried in the rubble of the building. It looks relatively old, as if it hadn't been touched in a few years.
With curiosity pawing at your gut, you decide to open it, waving away at the cloud of dust that had propelled into the air around you.

On the first page is an intro that reads the following:


"Since you have this in your hands, opened to the first page, that means that I'm not here to swat you away from it. (Note: I never said that I died, you little sneak.) Nevertheless, you might as well continue reading. Intriguing, is it not?
Now I'll tell you what this is; This is the story of a deersert.
He's fantastic, incredibly different, but fantastic nonetheless."

You sigh before flipping to the next page. An small ivory whistle and a single sentence wait on the page.
Picking up the whistle and rolling it inbetween your fingers, you let your eyes scan over the sentence.


"His name is Bertholdt."

For whatever reason, the last sentence causes a bit of a reaction with you, causing a pang of emotion to hit you.
Nostalgia? Sadness? You're not sure.
But you replace the whistle and tuck the journal under your jacket, stepping out of the rubble of the old cottage.

Once you're out of the cottage, and have taken refuge in the branches of a nearby tree, you skim over the notes on the next page with a renewed interest.


╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
xxI. Responds to Bertholdt, occasionally Bert. Nothing else.

xxII. Seems to be a genderless being; Prefers male pronouns.

xxIII. A bit clumsy- watch out for that.

xxIIII. Overheats very easily. Try to keep a few gallons of water around him at all times.
xx(There is a bucket in the shed. Try not to pull your muscles carrying it.)
╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

Alright- now you were sucked into it.
You felt connected to this "Bertholdt," wherever he may be. Hell, he might even be long gone by now. Who knows.
You flip over to the next written page, passing over countless sketches and diagrams. The drawings were incredible, and the sheer size of the deersert..
No way. That wasn't possible. You refused to believe it. 60 meters?!
And his horns and tail- steam? No. But that would go along with the overheating part..
You push all that to the side and focus on the parts that were believable.
The legs were shorter than usual- stocky, and the body patterns were similar to that of the muscular system. But hey, you've seen stranger patterns.

Once you get to the next written page, you notice that the cursive scrawl looked a little bit more frantic, ink smeared off the loops and curves. For whatever reason, these few pages felt a lot more serious, grim maybe? Oh well.
When you began to read, however, you realized why it was so heavy.


╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
xx While at most times, Bertholdt is a gentle being, there
xx is an incredible risk to being around him.
xx I don't know where it came from, or if he was born/created with it, or what, but under
xx certain circumstances, he becomes extremely volatile. Be careful.
xx It's rare, however. During my time of knowing him, it's only happened once. But, of course,
xx it was horrific. He went on a rampage, crushing everything in his path, obliterating trees,
xx buildings, you name it. Many living things, humans and deerserts alike, were destroyed
xx underneath his feet.

xx Like I mentioned before, I don't know what causes this, but my best theory is that he acts out

xx of fear and stress, like any animal would. Keep him in a calm environment, don't yell at him.
xx Be calm, kind and patient with him. But if he does end up going red, get all the local
xx townspeople in a safe area. Do it as fast as you can.

xx He doesn't mean it. Please don't hold it against him.
╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

You shuddered, frightened. Maybe you should leave it all be, throw the journal back into the rubble and get the heck out of there. You weren't even supposed to be there in the first place.
Curiosity keeps the pages turning. There's an ominous feeling to all of this, but you can't stop.
You refuse to.
Fiddling with the whistle, you read over more of the pages, giving a little bit of backstory to the
deersert.

In a quick recap, you think over a quick summary of what you learned about Bertholdt.
Author went out into the woods to collect herbs, came across a a giant (injured) deersert, befriended him,
so on and so forth.

As you approached the end of the journal, you begin to wonder what exactly had happened to the author. Had they been killed? Are they just out doing errands or something?
But the cottage is destroyed..

The lasting pages broke your heart.


"If you're still reading this, you're either incredibly sneaky or a thief.
But if you have the whistle, that means I'm long gone. Six feet under. Pushing up daisies.
You know how it goes.

Well, maybe not. But you understand what I'm saying."

You chuckled involuntarily, tracing the spine of the book with your forefinger.


"Since I won't be there to take care of little Bert, it's in your hands now.
If you blow that whistle, wherever he is, he'll come to you.
I'll warn you, though. Once you do, there's no going back on it. He'll depend on you. So if you won't be able to commit, go toss this journal back where you found it and get out of here.

Please, take care of him. He doesn't deserve to be neglected."


Taking the whistle, you place it between your lips and blow as hard as you can. Almost immediately, the ground begins to shake beneath you, nearly causing you to topple out of the tree. A huge deersert, looking exactly as it was depicted in the drawings, came toward you, moving sluggishly toward you. A bout of adrenaline streamed into your veins and you were frozen in fear.
Once he came close enough to you, he lowered his head, staring at you intently with inquisitive yellow eyes.
Hesitantly, you rested a palm on his head, but quickly removed it due to the heat.

A small grin rested on your face and you loosened up, expression softer.
"Hi, Bertholdt. You have nothing to worry about, you're safe here."

Ahhhh sorry I'm a bit late on judging this ;-;

Congrats marco bodt, he's yours! <3 I absolutely loved the format of your form, and managed to include the basics in your story. Very well done <3 Enjoy your new Colossal Titan Deerssert!

[Roadhog]

congrats ; - ; my dream deerssert

[mulder]

aaaa ;D;

thank you soso much ! i'm so happy right now you don't even know //squeaks
i promise i'll take care of Bertholdt, thankyouthankyou !

//dies

[wajas]

Sorry for the late response! But congrats, Marco!

[min genius]

Aww yeah buddy Attack on Titan for the win!