A Foxerfly is a fox-like creature that is rather small. They are about the size of the average house cat. Their very unique feature is the pair of wings on their back that allows them to fly unlike any other four-legged being. There are five different types of wings of a Foxerfly that resemble wings of insects.
Butterfly
Dragonfly
Bee
Wasp and
Moth
Occasionally their wings will be different to others, but it is rare in the average Foxerfly. Their diet consists of everything a normal fox would eat; berries, eggs, small rodents, fruit, and they may chew on various crops. They are shy and extremely secretive among creatures of different kinds, so they are not seen often.
Be nice to your Foxerfly; they will only choose the one right for them.
madrilenial wrote:[center]
[size=85]click above for my form ^
(photo is not mine)
key wrote:theme song wrote:Ever since I could remember,
Everything inside of me,
Just wanted to fit in
I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in
If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me
Name: Dwyer
Meaning: dark wise one
Gender: Male
Age: 13 years old
Birthday: February 14th
Condition: Melanism
Future Charm/Talent: a blue pen/writing poetry
All his life, he's been the odd man out. The queer child. The one who would "accidentally" be left at home. His differences didn't use to bug him, until he got old enough to start noticing things. Things like how all his other family members were intricate, light colored, and beautiful. The perfect, enviable rich family. But he was plain black with weird, purposeless tufts of fur on his legs. He felt dull and useless, like a mistake.
When he was seen with his family in public, he could hear people wondering what was wrong with him. Whispering and pointing, like he was theirs to judge, to put in a box. Their comments went from curious to downright rude. Sometimes, if he was close enough, he could hear pieces of what they said. "Is he adopted?" "Did they hire a new manservant?" "Did he dye all his fur that horrendous color? He must be going through a rebellious stage." "Oh it's him, you know, the one who's dad up and ran. I read about it in a gossip magazine, so it has to be true." "Sweetie, you see that dark Foxer over there? No, don't point at him! Well anyway, you mustn't go near him. He's bad news."
It's kind of sad, but his mom was probably the nicest one in his family to him, even though she would end up snapping at him anytime he talked to her or accidentally got in her way. She tried to pretend that his strange looks and unnaturally grown-up behavior didn't bug her, but he could tell it did in the way she flinched anytime his hairy paws brushed hers. His dad barely even pretended to care. He had always wondered if Dywer was really his and never called him "son" once.
His siblings weren't much better, but at least they spoke to him. Even if they did pretend that his name was Blackie for five years. He tried to get along, but no one gave him a chance. Not at school, and definitely not at home. No one would respond to him when he spoke. He was shunned completely. Teachers barely even knew he was in their classes. His peers copied his siblings' behavior toward him. If anyone did talk to him, it was either to command him to fetch something or to tell him how his existence was a burden. "You're a mistake, Freak."
"Fine," he thought, "If everyone wants me gone so badly, I'll disappear." He stopped talking and pretending to smile. He didn't look anyone in the eye. He stopped trying to tag along with his family when they went places. He became their idea of a perfect pet. He withdrew to his room, where he could write, listen to his own music, and try to rebuild his self-worth in peace. He tried to figure out how early he could enter college, so that he could have a fresh start away from the influence of his family.
Only one teacher noticed the change in his behavior when she tried to congratulate him on his grades suddenly increasing to all A's. She complimented him, but he didn't even look up. Concerned, she watched him for a few months, and then told the counselor that she thought he was depressed. The counselor then told his parents and recommended that they send him to a therapist. After a few more months, they agreed, hoping that a professional would be able to "fix" their strange offspring, if only so that they wouldn't have to fix him themselves. Of course, he wasn't depressed, but it's not like anyone knew him well enough to know that. They had it all wrong. He wasn't sad, he was angry; raging mad.
The therapist, "You can call me Doc, Dywer", soon discovered that his patient wasn't going to break his silence for someone he'd just met. He wasted two sessions trying to make him talk by not saying anything himself. Finally, he gave up that approach and decided to let him write down everything instead. Slowly, Dywer picked up the pen and began to write. It was only a few words at first, but then the wrote more and more as he realized that Doc wasn't reporting his every word to his parents. Eventually the whole story was out in the open. Doc was truly sympathetic to him. He never once suggested that he was being childish or spoiled. Together, they confronted his parents. Gradually, things got better, and on a bright day in the early spring, Dywer finally spoke for the first time in over a year. Coronet font 40 size tracking is like 6
Day 1- Dywer refused to speak to me, so I didn't speak either for the rest of the session.
Day 2- Still no progress. I think he resents me.
Day 3- I gave up the silent treatment, and got him to write instead of speaking. Now we're getting somewhere. He obviously bears resentment toward a lot of people. I've got to find out who "they" is.
wip
Dywer is polite, reserved, and the slightest bit edgy. He has a dry sense of humor and thinks sarcasm is the bee's knees. He's very logical and just naturally acts like someone who's much older than he is. He's been like that since he was very small, and it tends to make people uneasy around him. His quietness also isn't the most helpful thing when everyone's convinced that he's a bit strange in the head. Most strangers just don't understand that he's learned to prefer to listen. It's just a habit that he picked up when he stopped talking.
Meeting new people is both a blessing and a curse for him. The problem is, he has too much empathy for people. He has to distance himself a bit from others all the time, so that he doesn't get all sappy and start hugging people. Most of the time, when he can successfully distance himself, he functions just like a normal kid. He likes surprising people who think he's all stiff and formal by pulling little pranks on them, because he's found that by acting like other kids his age, people are more willing to accept him. However, he still finds it hard to make friends who really care. It's one of his biggest insecurities; that no one will ever truly love him the way he loves everyone else.
Despite his harsh childhood, or perhaps because of it, he would never even think about seriously hurting someone else. Even if he is screaming at you in his head, he won't voice his frustrations until he has calmed down. This's because he remembers how much the words of others can hurt. If he hurts someone accidentally, he spends days afterward apologizing and regretting what he did. That's not to say he's not he doesn't get mad, he just tries to control himself. He will try to talk to whoever he hurt, or whoever hurt him. He won't lie and pretend that he's not angry, but he refuses to stay angry. The last time he kept it all inside, his hate nearly consumed him.
When he was going through his toughest times and had no one to share his pain with, he turned to his writing and books to forget about everything for a while. He'd trudge up the stairs, trying to ignore the glare of his father, go into his room, lock the door, and let out a sigh of relief as he gazed the familiar surrounding. Then he'd turn on his music (quiet enough that anyone outside would have no reason to complain), and crack open a new book from the library while finishing up a poem he'd been writing earlier. Writing is the one thing that's sure calm him down, even if nothing else can. It proves that he exists. More so, it proves that he can do something right.Dislikes:
- needles
- irony
- wool
- really hot weather
- summer
- false sympathy
- bullies
- football (the hype)
- revealing secrets
- chalkboardsLikes:
- poetry
- music
- books
- autumn
- writing
- soccer
- sincerity
- psychology
- acceptance
- cloudy daysspace holder
space holderThanks for reading my form! I really liked making it.
I wasn't expecting to write so much, though. Whew!
I hope to develop his character more as he grows,
and hopefully he can meet the albino Foxer and become
best friends. I'm just saying, they probably have a lot in common.
The art at the top, the poems, and coding were done by me.
All other images belong to their respective owners.
Doc and Dywer's family are not real Foxers. Don't sue me please.
The lyrics at the top are from the song Monster by Imagine Dragons.
Have a wonderful day!
Albino and Melanistic babies!
A possible joint contest! Team up with a buddy to win them both (one per person, obviously), or apply for one individually. It's up to you!
These contests are an impress me that will end on February 22nd c': Please be sure to tell me which one you're applying for!
Unfortunately, due to oekaki issues, I've lost the oekaki versions of these babes. Good thing they're going to be aged to adults right? cx So yeah! Ask for an extension if you need more time <33
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