[Strudel]

Name: Tilo
Gender: Male
Owner: TILL ALL ARE ONE

Alright, since I don't make many main line adopts (or haven't as of recently) and because I had a really intense day at work... here is a pseudo-FCFS for y'all.
If you don't know what a pseudo-fcfs is, it's a first come first serve with stipulations and allows more than one entry.
I am allowing fifteen people to enter (that fill out the form completely without editing)
So basically, to win, you have to fill out the information completely WITHOUT EDITING your form (i.e. not WIP/ect. And leave spelling mistakes alone! Editing at all will get you disqualified) and I'll choose between the qualifying entries ^^;

Code: Select all

[b][u]Username[/u][/b]:
[b][u]Viscet Name[/u][/b]:
[b][u]Viscet Gender[/u][/b]:
[b][u]Short story[/u][/b]:


• The short story must be about the viscet or from the viscet's persective, and it must be at least 300 words.
• I will give leeway with the word count. Like if it's two words shy I'm not going to disqualify you (though being like thirty or fifty words shy will definitely get you disqualified.)
• I am looking for one of two things: Creativity or character development. Not just rushed prose. Props to someone who can pull off both. Keep in mind though, where as longer can be better, you definitely want to make the deadline post so be careful/wary of your time.
• Prettying up is allowed, again though keep in mind this is time sensitive

*Edit* More than likely I will not be awake when the appropriate amount of posts have been hit. So before deciding to post a form make sure that it's not already gone over. If there are more than fifteen posts, but some have been edited or are way below the word limit then yours will still count if it is still within the "fifteen eligible posts" deadline.

[elliott.]

Username: Squeez
Viscet Name: Limon
Viscet Gender: Male
Short story:
The wind was roaring around the plains, the grass whipping at the brown and green-coloured Viscet's ankles. He was running on all four paws, as he preferred running that way. He ran towards the beach, the light ginger sand slightly blown up by the wind, yet the water calmed. Limon grinned, as he was running to his favourite place ever, the place he had spent most of his childhood at. He arrived at his destination, hopping on to the sand, loving the feeling of the sand getting into his paw pads. The wind calmed, the sand now laying flat and the waves slowly, soothingly lapping at the shore. Limon dug around the beach, finding something he had left there a long time ago. Finding a lump in the sand, the Viscet grinned widely, starting to dig with his front legs, making a pile of sand on the side. He came upon a brown lump, so he went around it, revealing a small treasure box. He brought it out, laying it on the sand. He yanked at a chain on his neck that was hidden under his vest, pulling out a key. Limon took the necklace, shoving the key into the lock and opening the box. Putting the necklace aside, he opened the treasure box and glanced inside, revealing a lot of treasures. A piece of red seaglass, the rarest was stuck in there, a long with blue seaglass everywhere. A piece of rock was also in there, but as a child, it had been Limon's favourite possession. He rolled the rock in his paw, smiling. Placing it down, he revealed a piece of paper, reading the small note him and his best friend, Pearl, had written in human language, which they had took forever learning just for that purpose.
"This letter is made to restrain our friendship, saying it will never be broken. We will stick together until death due us part and refuse to separate from each other, no matter what new Viscets or relationships come our way.
Signed, Pearl and Limon."
A tear escaped from Limon's eyes, landing on the page. "I miss you, Pearl." He smiled.
{359 words}
(sorry if this posts AFTER it ends. coppa'd)

[QueenAxolotl]

Username: StarRayGlowButt
Viscet Name: Kiwi
Viscet Gender: Male
Short story: Kiwi was born small and weak, a runt really. Everyday for a long time, Kiwi was bullied really badly, pushing him down, stomping on his glasses, stealing his inhaler, stuffing him in a garbage can and pushing him down a hill with him still inside. At home it wasn't any better, his mom was never around, and his dad was drunk and abusive, always calling him weak and using him like a slave. Everyday it seemed like Kiwi was being tossed around, gaining bruises that never seemed to go away, just like an ugly tattoo.
It wasn't until one day that a group of the usual Bullies tied him to one of their trucks and drove around town, dragging his half limp, body that someone ran right into the road, and stopped them. Kiwi was freed after his tormentors were lectured and their parents were called. Kiwi looked up at the huge viscet who just saved him and took his extended paw. "I see you get bullied and pushed around this town long enough. From now on, I'mean going to teach you how to stand up for yourself and box."
So, everyday, Kiwi would meet his new friend, Pip, the giant, scary-cat, boxing champ, cop viscet who saved him to train and to become stronger, and to be able to defend himself. It wasn't until too long that Pip decided to even put Kiwi in a turniment. Kiwi doubted himself, especially when he found out that some of his class mates were there, mocking him, but somehow, someway, Kiwi won in the end with a sharp left jab, knocking the other viscet down for the count.
Never before did Kiwi felt so alive, so strong, and so accepted in his life as the crowd roared his name, HIS NAME, the undersized, underdog- that is until his father came into the building, yelling slurred insults to Kiwi. 'What is the meaning of this?!' 'I didnt tell you can do this!' 'Get back home so I can show you what it's like to get a real beaten you wimp!' ' No good son!'

Kiwi was once again terrified. He stood there in the middle of the ring after just winning, after just proving to his peers that he's worth something, and after making his mentor, Pip so proud. Kiwi felt the world fall apart around him, and then Pip arrested Kiwis father. Viscling abuse, DUI, public intoxication, threatening a minor, and domestic battery.

If Kiwi thought he lost everything before, now he felt like he even lost the ability to even breathe. Where will he live now? Who will take care of him now? All of these questions were rushing through his battered, sweaty skull till Pip put a giant, gentle paw on Kiwi's shoulder. "Don't worry son, I'll take care of you now." With a twinkle in his eye and a gentle smile, he reassured Kiwi, and Kiwi smiled big, tears streaming down his face and hugged his new dad and mentor. "Thank you so much... Thank you..!"
--------------------------------

Over the years, Kiwi kept up with his boxing and became a world renowned boxing champion, and working with his adopted dad Pip as a sherif.

[Yugi]

Username: Yugi
Viscet Name: Lyle "Lime" Lackey
Viscet Gender: Male

Short story:



If there's one major thing I love in life, it is making limeade. The sweet and sourness of it all is always pleasant to me, and it's just a rush of excitement I will never tired of.

Every year, I make my finest limeade possible for a lovely little local contest in town and I get the golden first place trophy for it. Believe it or not, the town I live in is actually dedicated to growing limes and making delicious food items out of them. We're pretty famous for our lime contest; so famous that Viscets from all over flock to our little town for a week to get a jump on some of our delicious sour foods.

This year, however, was completely different. Every year before, I had easily excelled in the competition; I've always managed to win first place in the limeade making contest with absolute ease. It was my passion, the thing that I loved to do the most, and I never thought anyone could beat me at it. I would always add in the best amount of sugar, still allowing it to keep it's sour flair to the wonderful clear liquid. It was sweet and tart, and so many people loved ordering limeade in gallon barrels from me.

Some how, some way, I had lost my ongoing championship and lead title of best limeade maker this year. I was stunned. I was so shell-shocked that I was at a lost for words. My jaw was opened, the very opposite of having your mouth puckered up after drinking a nice, tall tart glass of limeade. I, for once, had received second place. Second place?! Are you kidding me? After all these years of my limeade placing first continuously, I was now just given a second place medal. My legacy was ruined; my title is tarnished. I felt so embarrassed. I could no longer continue to keep my beloved nickname. Sure, maybe I was over reacting, but I was so dumbfounded; I never expected to lose at something I love so much.

With my head hung low, I left the judging room silently, still holding onto that silver second place medal. I continued to make my way out, that is until someone called my name.

"Lime!" They shouted out loudly, the word echoing throughout the contest hall and my head. I jerk my head back to face them; to my surprise, it was a younger Viscet with a lime green and white colored pelt. Their yellow eyes beamed with absolute happiness as they stared up at me. It was the first place winner of the limeade contest; I could tell due to the fact that they were holding onto the much larger golden trophy.

"I was inspired by you, Lime!" The little Viscet continued, still hugging onto the trophy closely. "I hope you don't mind, but I kind of based my limeade off of yours... I only added a little bit of extra sugar since I didn't like mines as tart as you do."

The Viscet began to fidget nervously. "Uhm... And because of that, I don't feel as if I deserve to own the trophy. I want you to have it Lime; I didn't expect to win first place at all. Please, take it!"

I was absolutely shocked; I shook my head no before speaking. I told the little Viscet to keep the trophy. He was the one who won it in the first place after all, fair and square, even if he did base his recipe off of mine. He asked me to sign the trophy at least, and I happily did. I don't think I would have ever expected someone to be inspired by me at all. I followed him to his limeade stand to taste his limeade, and golly! His limeade was amazing!

If there's one thing that I love in life, it's making limeade. The sweet tartness always makes me happy, as well as the joyful memories that one can easily make through the creation of the refreshing drink. Happiness on the faces of others always gives me a rush of excitement I will never tire of.

While I don't participate in the competitions anymore, since there's so many other amazing contestants that deserve to place first equally, I continue to share my limeade with others in hopes it will make them smile... Or, at least, pucker them up!

[steamplonk]

Username: Steamplonk
Viscet Name: Alexandre
Viscet Gender: Trans Male
Short story:
wake up.
i see something.
wake up, please.
i think it's...
alex, don't leave me here alone.
it's a beach.
alex?!
oh, geez.
alex!!
my head hurts. i can't seem to remember a thing.
no, no no no...
i think i can get up... ow.
oh god, this is all my fault.
well, i can walk. this is an interesting place. the samd here is almost sheet white.
what have i done?
yow! was that... sea glass? what the heck?
oh god, oh god...
holy crud, this beach is filled with sea glass! i better go explore, without getting freaking stabbed.
i don't think i can live with myself...
oh, wow! i think there's a village over there! i should head over.
oh, hello.
what's this? why is it... empty?
how... how're you doing?
this town is abandoned. might as well loot this place.
alexandre is dead.
i'm not dead yet, i think. so i guess i have to find... what was it i have to find again?
don't give me your stupid pity.
ugh, i can't remember a thing. what was it, what was it...
he left on a sailing trip months ago.
oh yeah! i need to find a boat to get back home!
they found wreckage of his ship.
i've got the feeling that i'll need to... someone back home needs me.
they're sending out search teams, but...
i'll make a makeshift boat. yeah.
he's good as dead.
first i'll need some planks... ah, here we go.
what do you mean, he might be alive?
and some rope- hm, can't find any rope. guess we'll have to just use some banana leaves.
can't hurt to check.
can't hurt to try.
i'm going to go on an adventure, to find home.
i'm going to go on an adventure, to find home.


let's do this.

[Pumpkin Cupcake]

Username: Pumpkin Cupcake
Viscet Name: Finnegan
Viscet Gender: Male
Short Story:

"Remember that you can't stay in a town for more than a day or two." The large male slapped the scrolls down on the wooden table, his glare staring into Finnegan’s with a deathly warning behind them. “This is not a job that you can slack off, and is highly privileged. It’s not handed out like the postal service or some ridiculous job like that.” He huffed, his cape shifting to drape gracefully by his sides.

Finnegan swallowed nervously, taking the scrolls in his paw and placing them in the satchel that hung off his left shoulder and onto the right of his waist. He was careful not to bend them, and made sure they were all snug enough that they wouldn’t fall out. They were precious items. “Yes sir,” he finally replied. He bowed his head, and headed for the door, when he was paused by a knife that landed in the wall next to him.

“A herald’s job is never easy. Take care, young Fin. I don’t want your replacement to show his face here because of your failure to protect yourself.” The chair groaned as the viscet stood, and Finnegan could almost feel the man’s cold breath seeping onto his neck fur even though he was halfway across the room. “Go far, but always return home.”

Finnegan nodded, taking the dagger from the wall and gazing at it. He was tempted to set it down, but it could be used. “Thank you, sir.” He adjusted his jacket decorated with the kingdom’s coat of arms, and stepped outside. The morning light was just seeping into the town at the horizon, and he was nervous about his journey. It would certainly take a long time. But, he would do whatever it took to inform people of the knowledge he wanted to share.

He stepped down off the porch, and began to walk near the houses as he walked through the town, avoiding the early merchant set-ups as he made his way West, where he would see the sun setting and would know when he needed to retire for the evening. He kept the cloak he wore tightly around him, to avoid the morning chills and to look like any other citizen. He just needed to get out of the castle gates.

As a child, he knew he would serve the King. He was raised in a family of servants, who did nothing but praise his deeds and glorify his ruling. They wanted their son to follow in their footsteps. But, he was not fit to be a servant. He was too clever, and was therefore sent to the Head Advisor of the Royal Council. He had deemed Finnegan worthy of being a herald, and had trained him for years until, as an adult, he was ready to take on the world. Finnegan was rewarded with the herald’s jacket, a dark adornment that held the coat of arms across the chest and back. He took pride as soon as he received it at his ceremony, and now he had the ability to take his next step in life to carry the King’s word further beyond any borders he would even think of coming across in his years.

Finnegan shivered as a chill ran down his spine, and he shook his head. His excitement couldn’t get the best of him. But as soon as he saw the castle gates, his speed picked up. His eyes sparkled in the dawn light, and his jacket rippled in the wind that passed him. He was headed towards his new life, the faithful servant of the King. No matter how far or wide, he would bring people to the kingdom, spreading his own knowledge and educating himself more as he went. And he would be the proud son of servants, the one that the kingdom would proclaim to be the best that there ever was.

[Piefan]

Username: Piefan
Viscet Name: Xeno
Viscet Gender: Male
Short story: Time goes on.

It pauses for nothing. A king, for all his power, cannot halt its progress; a fallen faerie can do naught but watch it slip through her fingers. His many regrets cannot be undone, for they have come and gone. He would - he has - given up all for even the smallest of chances to turn back the time, but he has failed. Always.

This will be changed, soon.

The alchemist stands hunched over the wooden pot, ignoring the fumes that stream unheeded from it. He is tired, he is scared, he is distraught. But above all, he is determined. He will succeed this time - he knows he will. His notes have pointed to this exact formula, and he has followed it to the letter. Never again will he have to hunt with claws and teeth. He will be able to undo his mistake.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

He does not own a clock - all he has are the many trinkets explorers have left in the wood. A watch, alas, was not among them. A metronome, thankfully, was. He has never bothered to wonder about the context in which someone thought to bring it. Boil for exactly five minutes. He waits, and he waits, and he waits.

At last, the proper moment strikes.

He grabs the pail of water and splashes it onto the flames (how ironic - fire is what will bring his life back to what it once was), manually snuffing out the few embers that remain. Quickly searching the floor of his wooden hut, he finds a glass vial, which he uses to scoop up the still-hot liquid in the pot.

By the skies, please work.

He will finally be able to end his self-imposed exile, he thinks. No - he will never have made it in the first place. He will go back, and he will stop the disaster before it happened. Heart filled with hope-

he drinks the mixture, and tastes disappointment.

((... I feel like I may have made the angst slightly too heavy... Still, I have like five hours of sleep under my belt, so... could be worse?))

[Ravenshadow17]

Username: Ravenshadow17
Viscet Name: Iven
Viscet Gender: Male
Short story: below

It was a cold day in winter. A blizzard has struck the town. The winds howled and the trees shook. Iven looked fearfully out the window. The storm has stuck suddenly, without warning. He worried about those that potentially could have been stuck when it hit. He looked at the thermostat; -15 degrees farenheight. And that was without the wind-chill. He shivered at the thought of being outside in that. He shook his head and returned to his study. He was currently researching the progression of nano technology through history and trying to discover if they could be used in medicine or agricultural means to aid the public.

Suddenly a banging on the door startled Iven out of his work. He fell out of his chair in shock. Iven jumped up and ran towards the door. He paused before opening it. What if it was someone who wished to do him harm? He shook his head and opened the door to reveal a frostbitten viscet. He gasped and quickly pulled them inside. "Sit on the couch, I'll get you a blanket!" He called as he raced to the closet. He grabbed a thick blanket and started a pot of homemade hot chocolate. He returned to the stranger. "Why were you out there in this weather?" He asked. The viscet was young, younger then Iven. She looked up sheepishly. "I was birdwatching but then the storm hit." Iven tilted his head in confusion. "Birdwatching? I thought the birds had all flown south?" He asked. "No way! Some stay all year!" The female viscet responded laughing.
Iven smiled as she laughed. "I had no idea. So what kind of birds stay?" "Oh the most creative ones! There is this purple on that builds a nest in a tree and when the winter hits they take the fur that falls off of animals and lines their nests with it!"

[illumié]

-nvm-

[redhorizon]

Username: CaesarHorse
Viscet Name: Torrent
Viscet Gender: Male
Short story: Lifting my head, I blink my eyes sleepily. I look around the small cave I made camp in yesterday and the memories rush back. The humans, chasing me out of my home. The death of... Of my sister, Lichen. And now here I am, all alone, in a cave. The bullet wound in my leg throbs and my head aches with hopelessness. I stand on three shaky legs, holding my back left leg inches off the ground. I limp to the mouth of the cave and take a deep breath of fresh morning air. I step out of the cave and into the cool breeze. I lower my nose to the ground and catch the scent of man. Fear spikes through my body and I jolt into a straight position. I look around me and then collapse. There's no hope. Come and get me, I'm right here, I wish I could be saying. Take me away, like you did Lichen. I hear men walking and voices that I don't understand. I hear a flutter of wings and turn to see an eagle watching me.

"You better run, viscet." He says. I shake my head hopelessly. "Your family will be looking for you." He tries again.

"No! They're gone... The men killed them." I shake my head.

"They aren't gone. Lichen, your sister, right?" I nod. "Yes, she's still alive. And looking for you." I jolt upright, looking around me, filled with renewed hope.

"I-I have to go." I stutter, racing into the woods. "Lichen!" I cry out. "Lichen, where are you!" I cry out for hours, my throat raw. "Lichen!" I draw out her name. I can't lose hope, she has to be out there. "Please..." I whisper. "Lichen, please..." I call out once more.

"Torrent..." A weak voice calls. Lichen's voice.