Welcome to Gaia! ::

• The booth will remain open until Jan 4th 10pm EST
  
• The booth will reset for daily tokens at 11:59pm EST (Midnight)
  
• Users can gain 1 token daily by doing the prompt
  
• Bonuses will be rolled after the shop has been closed, at the end of the event.
  
• You're welcome to RP/interact with DBC if you so wish.
  
• If you forget to roll, just post again with a roll! No worries!
  
• If you have any other questions, feel free to quote me in the main thread or the event thread or even this thread OR even PM me. Or I mean, do all of the above. Your call!
  
• Yes you can haz legendary req!!

In order to gain 1 token, you need to roll 3d20 (3 twenty-sided dice). Each dice corresponds with a word/phrase on the lists below (1st dice to 1st list, etc). Words that are singular/plural or have multiple forms (past tense, future tense, -ly -ous endings, etc etc) can be manipulated at will. example: delicious (Deliciously) Run (ran, running, runs) Damp (Damper, Dampest, Dampened, etc).

Collect your words, and then see what the Genre Death Brings Change is seeking this time. It will change, so keep an eye out!

With your three words and genre, craft a simple story. A minimum of two sentences is required, but it can be more if you feel like it!

Stories that truly please DBC (and myself!) will get entered into a raffle at the end for some gaian gold (and potentially a doodle). So get those creative juices flowing!

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TODAY'S GENRE
Your Choice!

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Please include this in your posts!

"I'm not much of a storyteller," Soothe had to admit. "Unless it's about cranes. But...I'll certainly give it a try!" She listened politely for her assigned topic, and then immediately wrinkled her nose. W-what? A leech and a foxbun? And it had to be romantic?

Well, Soothe thought - the romance didn't have to be between the leech and the foxbun. That'd just be silly. But, well, leeches weren't the only thing that came to mind, when that word was brought up. And the cold could certainly be a factor...pushing kin to cuddle? Perhaps...hm. She cleared her throat, and began.

Let me tell you a story: leech, foxbun, cold

The little red foxbun shivered as it stumbled through the swamp: winter had come, and it'd pushed its way out of a temporary burrow to feed on some nuts it'd scavenged nearby. Unfortunately, in the time that'd taken, their little burrow had been buried with snow, and the whistling wind made it even more difficult to find sufficient shelter.

"Pssst," came a voice, and it turned. A pink nose was twitching - and the nose was attached to a white foxbun with particularly long fur. The foxbun had almost missed it, in its panic! "Come, quick!" this new companion said.

"But - " the red foxbun began, eyes wide. "I have nothing to offer you."

"Well, come before the warmth is leeched from my home by this blasted wind, won't you?" said the white foxbun, rolling its eyes.

"Ah - " said the red foxbun, but he followed regardless. "Hello. Thank you."

"Two bodies are better than one, are they not?" the white foxbun asked, with a demure shake of her head. "Come, curl up with me, and let's share our warmth."

Thus they spent the night together.

"How was that?" Soothe asked, eager to hear the verdict.

Let me tell you a story: Stars, Crane, Bitter

As she approaches the clearing, Trouble spots one group that seems a little more laid back as various kin tell their stories -- all of them varied, and different. A few of them clearly made up.

After awhile, however, her own interest is piqued and she recalls a story that she once heard, herself. A somewhat sad story, perhaps, but touching, nonetheless. Usually, Trouble isn't the sort for romance and touchy-feelie stuff, but she figures maybe it's the cooling air in the swamp, or something to do with the festivities around her. Besides, this story isn't exactly what she'd consider a fairy-tale.

"I have a story, if you care to listen. A somewhat sad story, but guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings all the same."

She waits until all eyes are on her, and smiles faintly as she glances around at their expectant, curious, faces.

"Once, long ago, the world was black and dark and no sun or stars or moon shone upon it to light the way of the creatures that stumbled about, blind, in the darkness. They had no concept of time, or distance. The future and past, unable to be marked so clearly by such concepts as days, or nights, were vague and murky ideas to them. They laughed, and loved, and fought, struggled, and wept, and triumphed all in darkness -- never even knowing the faces of their fellow kin.

Yet, they were not saddened by this. After all, it's all they ever knew -- all they could have ever known.

Until, one day, a kin, discontent with her lot in life, perhaps, decided that she was tired and bored, and in need of something new. Something exciting. So, she decided to wander until she had found something to ease the ache of want in her heart.

She came across many new things, and met many new kin, yet she was still discontent. After all, in the darkness, she had little to remember them by save their voices and, after awhile, even those began to fade together until she could no longer recall them clearly.

Eventually, however, she began to feel as if something were.... different. Yet, unable to place her hoof on what it was, she continued on until she realized what it was. Someone was following her! Why, the nerve of it was so unsettling that her temper was raised at once and she turned about, her ears cocked to try and locate the other.

"Come out, then, and don't simply stand there!" She shouted. "Why are you following me?"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The moment stretched, and just as the doe was beginning to think she had imagined it, and was about to feel quite foolish, a voice sounded in the dark.

"I'm here -- and I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sorry." The voice seemed sincere enough, but different. She'd never quite heard a voice like it before. Intrigued, now, her anger began to fade as it was replaced by curiosity.

“Who are you? What do you want?” She asked, and she heard the sound of movement, and a warm breath of wind caressed her cheek. A moment later, the voice sounded again from the same direction -- much closer, this time.

“I was drawn to you. To your willpower. You have traveled very far, and for quite some time. Yet, you never once settled down and still, here you are.” More soft noise follows, as of someone settling down, and the doe decides that she might as well sit for a moment, too while she listens. “I am the one who watches from afar -- and I have watched you for some time.”

Confused, the doe tilted her head to the side, as if to puzzle over this strange answer. She didn’t understand. “Watched me? I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“Your world is dark, and so you cannot see, but I have followed you. Your progress. You are a spark in the dark world. You search for something and yet you do not know what that is. Still, you have not found it. Do you know what it is you look for?”

The doe did not, and yet, as she listened, she felt a calmness in her heart. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer, after all.

“It becomes lonely to watch all the time and have no one to speak with. I decided that I would join you, here, only…”

“Only what?” The doe felt a strange sort of thrill speaking to this other one. Just who were they?

“Only now I don’t want to leave.”

For, you see, the other realized as soon as he seen the doe that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The doe could not see him, being blind as she was, for she had no use of sight in a world that was of pitch darkness. She could not see how the being before her glowed with an otherworldly light. He was, quite plainly, struck instantly with love for her. But his love came with a kind of bitterness. After all, he could not take her with him up above into the sky. But maybe there was another solution.

“Let me travel with you for awhile. Perhaps I can help you find what you seek.”

The doe agreed, and for a time, the two traveled together. His company soothed her during her long travels and she soon found herself laughing with him, a contentment warring with her need for that thing she had no name for. Finally, an idea had formed in the mind of her companion and one day he proposed it to her, admitting his feelings at the same time.

“I love you,” he said. “I would have you by my side but it is impossible -- for you cannot fly, and I must return to my home in the skies. But… if I could grant you sight, perhaps, then, I would be comforted if only you might look up at me and see me, as I look down at you.”

“I do not wish for you to leave,” the doe exclaimed and realized, then, that what she’d sought she’d already found. A tear fell down her cheek and the other, his heart breaking, wiped it away with the soft edge of his feathered wing.

They spent all of that day together, comforting one another for what must come next. He could impart into her some of his life force, to grant her the ability of sight, and it would tie them together forever -- despite the distance between them. Though better than nothing, she, too, felt the bitterness of their love, not wanting to part with him.

After some time, the ritual was complete, and for the first time the doe was able to see -- and as she laid her eyes upon his shining form, the elegantly long curve of his neck, the softness of his glistening feathers, the whole of him so elegant and pure, she felt herself weeping again. He was magnificent, after all -- and she was to be away from him after this great gift.

Soon, he left, but his shining form could still be made out in the distant darkness of the sky, his light shining down from above, forever lighting her way. A brilliant star. And the crane, well, he never tired of seeing her, either and, as before, he would find a way to come down and visit her, and his form would make a brilliant streak across the sky as he fell down to the earth.

And thus, they say, that is how the kin first gained their sight, and why, even now, when we look up at the night sky it is full of so many twinkling stars -- the brilliant, shining, offspring of that first, bitter, love."

Trouble looked over the crowd as she finished, and their zikwa host, before she quietly made her way from the front to sit, once more, along the back row.

Let me tell you a story: Stars, Crane, Bitter

Corn cleared his throat and began. "Once there was a doe who believed that her true love was written in the stars. She had so many dreams about finding him, the buck that fate had foretold. She spent her childhood dreaming of him, and when she got older, she decided she'd go on a trip to find him. She slept by day and every night craned her neck to look up at the stars, wondering where that buck would be. Would she find him tomorrow? Would it take years? One night, the wind was bitter and cold, and she shivered as she walked. "This is the worst," she said. "Why am I doing this? If my love is truly written in the stars, then no matter what I do it'll come to me eventually. If it's not truly written in the stars, then I'm wasting a lot of time looking for it." Feeling foolish, the doe wandered towards home, where she met up with a wandering tribe who followed the stars but did so together. "Aha!" she said. "This is the home for me." She was a lovely doe, and it didn't take her long to catch the eye of the tribe leader's brother, who she took as a mate and had many children with. The two of them lived happily ever after and are probably still wandering the swamp to this day."

Let me tell you a story: Thunder Swan Bitter

Breaks Bones had very little experience entertaining, much less in story telling outside of elaborating and embellishing how he'd slain any particular creature for it's pelt.

"Hrm. I know a legend." He began. "That when a swan's call is as deep as thunder and just and loud, that on the horizon, there will be a poor harvest. Misleading berries that shall be bitter and sour. Flavorless herbs and spice. A legend is often biased in fact so.. it begs the question as to what the original story is, does it now?"

Let me tell you a story: Stars, Kimeti Doe, Fever.

"This is a romance– a romance between two does, each as different as day and night– as Frost and as Fire, as there names happened to be. Fire was a doe who lived entirely for the warmth and light of the day, and Frost was rather more of a wilting flower– one who was born frail and best-suited to living in the coolest, darkest parts of the swamp during the times that Fire revelled in the heat and fervor of summertime.

"They met one evening, and Fire found herself wildly enchanted with the pale, sparkling young doe. She coaxed her along, promising to show her the wonders of her world, and freed the little doe from her isolation and what she was sure must be a boring, sedentary lifestyle.

"Frost admired Fire's wit, her sharp tongue, and her passion, and couldn't help but be swayed to follow. She watched her revel, let the sunny doe light her evenings with long talk and make the harsh light of day bearable.

"But eventually, the toll on the sickly doe was too much– she caught ill in the spring, and Fire found herself tending the doe, bringing to her icicles and bits of snow that had survived the winter unmarred to try and help with her terrible fever, bringing her food to keep her strong. Still, the sun continued taking its inevitable toll, and eventually the doe returned without snow nor icicles, to find her mate had passed on."

She paused. "Still now, the doe looks up at the night sky, to see a pale reflection of her mate's glistening hide."

Let me tell you a story: Berry, Foxbun, Swim; or Beware the High Berries.




Dappled cleared his throat softly. Stories were right up his path, he was sure he could entertain the buck. "Be forewarned..not all romances end well." Dappled's small cruel smile preceding the tale.

Once there was a tree, a mangrove tree. It's branches long and limbs wispy; it's roots ran deep beneath the swamp. This tree, more than any other tree, had the best berries. Always ripe and bright, all year round, no matter the season. The berries were rumored by the cranes to be the sweetest, by the owlcats to be the juiciest. Even the Giant Wasps buzzed of the berries greatness!

There was a catch though. The tree, the old strong tree, with the greatest of berries, grew alone in the middle of a deep lake. Too deep for any creature that could not swim or fly to cross. The only point of purchase between the shore of the lake, and the tree, was the occasional winding root that grew closer to the waters surface than the others.

The other catch..was the Caiman. The lake was filled with them, the clever creatures knowing that many a kin would dare to brave the waters for a taste of the berries. That even the smallest of creatures, once they tasted of the berries, would occasionally be fool enough to risk themselves for a second taste.

So it was, that when the berries would fall from the tree into the lake, the Caiman would float them towards the shore, and then wait. Watching to see what would next take the bait, and dare to cross their lake.

The occasional Swan or mongoose, a Foxbun or three. A foolish foal.

One day, a Foxbun approached the shore. Her pelt the color of Diamonds and roses, her eyes like Sapphires. Her presence caught the attention of a young Caiman. This Caiman however, was not entranced by the prospect of a meal, but by the sight of such a beautiful Foxbun! Never before had he seen such colors. Dainty little feet and fluff. Nothing so cute or delicate lived in the lake. All was dull as death..

The Caiman wanted to speak with her, but knew that if he approached she would certainly flee. So he gathered a few berries in his mouth, and floated them towards the edge.

This Foxbun though, was no fool. She had seen others come and go to the lure of the berries taste. The rare few survived the journey into those waters. The only safe thing to do, was to collect the berries from the shore and leave..

But the taste of the berries always left one wanting more! Foxbun had had that taste once, and she never wanted to go without it again. She had a plan.She would collect as many berries as she could, and store them away for herself.

The first few berries that touched the shore, Foxbun ignored, much to Caimans confusion. Caiman fetched more, and more..

The Foxbun waited, idly ignoring the increase in berries, until there were enough to fill her arms with. She quickly scooped them up and darted off. Only once she was back safely in her den, did she gorge on them.

This continued for half a moon cycle. The Caiman would send out the bait, and the Foxbun would ignore it. The Caiman moving ever closer to the shore. Until one morning the Caiman lay on the shore, mouth agape, and berries laying in a small pile inside.

"What..is this?" The Foxbun eyed the very obvious Caiman, trying to figure out his game. "If this is how you catch your breakfast, you are likely to starve Caiman."

"No no!" The Caiman spat the berries forth in offering. "These are for you! It is I who has been sending you berries to the shore all this time." The Caiman snapped "You are so lovely..I had hoped to offer you a gift. Why is it you never eat them?" All creatures loved the berries, yet he'd never seen her eat a single one, simply gather them up and take them away.

The Foxbun tittered a smitten Caiman? She'd never heard of such a thing! However..if he was willing to give her berries on the daily, surely she could be fat and happy forever. "I do not eat these berries. None of them are good enough from me. They are all over-ripe and water logged. I give them out to the poor other starving creatures instead." Foxbun lied.

"Over-ripe...water logged? But these berries have fallen straight from the great tree, they are the most delicious in all the swamp!" The Caiman boasted, grinning his sharp grin.

"You have been lied to Caiman..or maybe it is because you do not eat the berries yourself that you do not know. The higher up the berries are on the tree, the better the taste. That is why the birds only eat from the top of the tree! Don't you see?" Foxbun fluffed herself up, giving the Caiman her sparkling gaze to admire.

The Caiman was flustered, how was he to reach the higher berries? True there were some low hanging branches...but..."How am I to get you these? I cannot fly or climb."

"If you are not willing to find a way, then you do not truly admire me. You simply want me for your meal." Foxbun huffed and quickly scampered off.

Another moon passed as Caiman found ways to collect berries from higher up in the great tree. Stripping all of the low hanging branches, until they were barren. Creating a large mound of berries that he fiercely defended, waiting for the foxbun to return and eat the fruits of his labor.

"See foxbun! See what I have done for your beauty, all of the low hanging fruit is now yours to eat!"

The foxbun returned, sniffed the fruit, and took the tiniest nibble of one of the berries. The taste was near delicious enough to blind her! Instead she feigned disgust. "These berries are still not good enough! You simply want to fatten me up so I will drown trying to get the good berries." Foxbun sighed. "Still..I suppose for your trouble, I should at least take all of these with me."

"Will you not eat them here? Will you not share a meal with me dear foxbun?" The Caiman pleaded, distraught that she thought his gift insincere, merely another trap.

"When you can bring me the best of berries. Then I will eat with you Caiman, only then will I know you truly love me as you claim." Foxbun had no such notions, but she would never turn down a chance at a feast. The idea of all of the berries being hers and hers alone! She was greedy for them.

"If that is what it will take.." Another moon passed, and the Caiman found still more ways. The other creatures, kin and Caiman alike mocked his efforts. A fool in love with his dinner, and sure to starve.

The pile of berries got higher on the shore, more branches stripped bare. Foxbun returned and the story started over again. Foxbun grew fat on Caimans berries, and Caiman grew starved waiting for Foxbun to return his love, and share a meal with him.

On and on until the only berries left were in the highest branches of the tree. Foxbun was addicted by this point..and on the day that the pile dwindled, and the gifts of love ceased, did she confront Caiman.

"Where are my berries, where is the proof of your love!" Foxbun demanded, squeaking and skittering about in her chubby way.

"I am sorry Foxbun..I am too weak and short now to reach the berries..I can climb no higher..I have no more tricks or ways to reach them for you. There is no more meal left for us to share!" Caiman pleaded.

"Lies! There are berries at the very top of the tree!" Foxbun was enraged, she demanded Caiman take her out onto the lake.

"But Foxbun, you cannot swim..look how plump you are! Even if I carry you to the tree itself..even if you climb it?" Caiman was sure she would fall to her death..or drown, but Foxbun did not care, she only cared for the berries.

And so, for her love of the fruit of the great tree, she let Caiman carry her out onto the lake, and she climbed high-high up into it's branches. To the very top, where only the most ripe fruit grew..and only the most delicate branches...

Foxbun broke her neck on the way down, face still fat and stuffed with the berries she greedily coveted. Her love of them was her demise...

As for the Caiman..He wept over her beautiful bloated body. He wasted no time in swallowing up her lifeless form. Thinking to keep her safe from all the other predators. "Oh Foxbun. I warned you...Now though, now we will be together forever. You can live inside of me, and we will always share our meals." The Caiman finally got to share a meal with his Foxbun.

The Caimen had truly loved the Foxbun, but the Foxbun, oh she only had eyes for those berries.