username : RosslynRouge
dinoken name : Vivre
favorite flower and why ?? : Her favourite flower is the thistle, for its unusual shape. She adores the purple hue, which looks even more vibrant in the green fields that she lives in. The spikes don't seem to bother her, either; they remind her of her own thorns. What she truly finds beautiful about them, though, is the sight of all of the creatures that land on them; the elegant butterflies contrasting against the purple, the bumblebees soft and golden on the dark flowers.
give her a backstory :
Vivre was a renowned beauty in the land; her delicate colours and intricate markings made her enviable among the other dinoken. Her pale purple was rare among those in the forest, and drew stares from those she passed.
She was not cruel to others, either. She would offer assistance to any in need, being friendly towards all. Her gentle nature betrayed her, however, as she saw no evil in those around her; Vivre could never see the hidden motives of the dinoken she befriended.
-
Vivre was always surrounded by others, except on this day: the weather had grown fierce, and dinoken hid in their nests and caves to avoid the frosted winds. Soon enough she would return home herself, but first she had a task. A friend had asked her to meet among the trees before she left.
The forest groaned and creaked with the air, leaves whipping around above the dinoken's head. Close to the ground, it still stung her cheeks as she walked. Just ahead, Vivre could see the tree where her friend waited; its dark purple-red leaves were in stark contrast to the deep greens of the other foliage.
She called out her friend's name, smiling slightly as she saw the deep blue shape emerging from the brush. What could she wish to meet so urgently for?
As she reached her, however, she noticed her eyes; determined, certainly, but there was something else that she couldn't reach.
Opening her mouth to give voice to her question, she was cut off by a force that gripped her throat. She struggled weakly, feeling the rest of her body being held in place as she remained in the air. A powerful blue light bound her, flashing white whenever she tried to move.
The dinoken before her showed no concern as she inspected the energy, her face contorting into a devious grin as her victim remained frozen.
"You know, I've always wished that I was like you," she stated without haste, "You've always been everyone's favourite. Even strangers seem to admire you."
There was a pause as the dinoken looked her in the eye.
"I... never had that chance. I was always just another one of
your admirers, some pet that followed you here and there in hopes of becoming just like you. But now... well, now
I am the one in charge. I choose what happens here, and
you have to suffer the consequences."
Vivre flailed madly once more, feeling her movements useless against the barrier surrounding her. She needed to escape, but how? She could not even speak, let alone break free.
"Oh, don't worry, it won't be that bad. You'll simply learn to be like me. Ordinary."
With this, the blue dinoken flapped her wings, and Vivre felt the blue energy begin to sand away at her; she watched in disbelief as her violet tinge went dark, staining her like ink as her markings ran down into the force containing her. It only took a minute, and everything had changed. The energy suddenly released her, and she landed with a thud as she watched it pour into the dinoken opposite her.
The transformation began immediately; and now, before her, stood a perfect image of herself. And yet, Vivre could see what made them different; what would have once been her reflection stood proud and arrogant, a vain smirk covering her face as she admired herself. She held herself with an overbearing confidence, seeming to strut with every step. Finally, the dinoken turned to address her; she gave no words, but merely a satisfied snort at the pitiful remnants of what was once her friend.
That was all that Vivre saw before her world turned black.
-
When she regained consciousness, the wind had stilled. She was freezing cold; the night seemed to have brought with it an indifferent chill that crept through every vein.
Vivre slowly stood, beginning her path back to her home. The thought of her friends waiting for her, relief flooding their eyes as she finally found her way home, lifted her spirit somewhat.
The moon was high above her before she at last found herself back at her nest; but she was not alone there. There was light pouring out from inside, and the chattering of voices carried through the branches. The dinoken entered, confused, only to find her friends. They had waited for her!
As they turned to welcome the new arrival, the center of the group was revealed: among them, the focal point, was the dinoken who had turned on her. As she looked at her friends, though, she noticed something far worse; none of them recognised her. She was no more than another local to them.
In desperation, she recounted the tale, waiting for the group to turn on their false friend. But they all simply stared at her in disgust, not one recognising her voice.
Now, she had nothing: she could live without her colour. But her friends would never believe her; they couldn't even tell which dinoken was really her. Was she really nothing more than a painting for them to admire?
Holding back her tears, Vivre found herself moving far from the village she had known. Her wings carried her for some distance, and then her feet for the rest. She did not know her surroundings, and yet she could feel nothing but sorrow. As she felt her muscles begin to scream through her clouded thoughts, the forest floor turned into something else; a wild garden of roses, short against her height, yet carpeting the dark soil.
She stumbled among the crimson flowers, the sharp thorns clawing at her skin. Vivre collapsed, the points beneath making her cry out weakly; the soft petals scattered across her, taunting her. Of course she had found herself here, where not even the flowers were kind. Was her torment not great enough as it was?
As she lay helpless, however, the sun began to rise; slow and steady, it brought with it a fiery red that bled through the darkness. The thorns that held her melted into a warm bed, and she felt the heat running through her veins. Yet, that was not the end; her pain faded as the scratches glowed and warped into something new. The sunrise seemed to flow out of her, its colour becoming a part of her.
She arose from what was now a small clearing among the roses, adorned in red; her wings had grown into points like thorns, and horns now extended proudly from her head. Her tail carried with it the remaining roses, their thorns no longer painful. Yet above, crowning her, a curved formation of thorns. They were a symbol of her pain, and her heartbreak; but also one of defiance. The sun had given her its strength to carry, and she would accept its blessing. She may have nothing; no home, no friends, and no life: but she would survive.
She would not be destroyed by her despair; she would rise above it.
very optional art :
