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 Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 2:04 pm
Username: Candle Wick Ghost
Foal's name: Keres
Foal's temper: Fortuitous
Which prompt? 1
Prompt response:
Keres thought nothing of the differences his appearance possessed compared to others, in fact, he prided himself on gaining the most defining aspects of his parents. Unfortunately, if it wasn't just that which had the others cautious, even turning to run for the hills, then what followed in his paw prints certainly did.
Keres sucked in his breath, cheeks inflating as he kept it prisoner. Many freakish eyes set on something moving within the shadows of the forest. It was night and if he had learned anything, it was the perfect time to hunt the unsuspecting. If it wasn't for the fact others played on this advantage as well. This was a challenge, a test of faith and he was about to either pass with flying colours or fail miserably.
He lowered his canine stature, letting the breath free from it's embrace, and pushed from his hind legs as the wind fiercely gripped the forest around him. He collided with the shadow, watching it stumble and fall, letting out a shriek of protest. He grinned to himself and waited till the moonlight peeled back the canopy and shed light on his victim.
A filly. A shining white filly with four, torn wings. He growled and retreated back a couple of steps, keeping his gaze pinned upon his complete opposite. Her eyes, a piercing blue shook violently though from what he could gather it was from shock rather than the image within them.
She wasn't moving. Weren't they supposed to run? He lifted a brow and twisted his head to one side. "You're supposed to run." He gave a warning growl, his way of teasing one could say.
"I'm lost!" The other cried out. "I can't run, I don't know where to run to!" The cry pained his ears and he slipped them back at the abrupt raise in her voice. Snorting. "You're not supposed to reveal that you're alone." He rolled all his eyes. "There's meant to be an army of angels racing through the skies and forests, searching frantically for their baby and if found, injured or worse, then, well you get the drift."
He rolled his shoulders casually. The filly didn't say anything she just stared.
Awkward.
He sighed. "You're too pathetic to eat." He turned his back on the filly and started walking away when the other climbed to their feet. Unaware that his eyes were still on her, just not the ones in his head. She watched him, clueless, truly a lost lamb. Simply standing there.
The wind struck again, this time more ferociously than the last, he had to dig his paws in deep from fear that it would tear him away. In the roar of the wind, he heard the crack and creak of something sinister and when he turned, all that was left was a shower of glittering feathers and a tree lay beaten on the ground.
This time... It was his eyes that shook.
Comments/Other: Thank you for the opportunity! <3
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 4:26 pm
Username: XBlind-DarknessX
Foal's name: Ergaleío -- Greek word meaning 'tool'
Foal's temper: Jaded
Which prompt?
Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
Prompt response:
Barely any light shone through the swell of dark clouds as they mercilessly choked out the sun and the foal’s thoughts instantly turned to his severe mother. Like those clouds threatening to unleash a violent storm she would accept no less than darkness and gloom, and like those clouds she would not hesitate to choke out any beam of light she observed. Like a raging gust of wind she was always at his back, pushing him forward in the direction of her choice and buffeting his body with her power. She drove his siblings and himself to succeed, to become the best of what they were and she would not tolerate any deviation. A noise toward the back of the den had him slowly turning his head as his mother, as though summoned by his thoughts, cast her multitude of rubicund eyes upon him, each one twisted into a glare of disapproval. He should have been attempting to emulate those clouds instead of observing them, and he would pay for not thinking of that earlier.
The thin claw marks appeared red upon his black hide as he crept slowly from the den, his tale still held tucked between his legs in a pose of submission as he entered the gray world around him. He felt numb, even to the sting of the deep wounds his mother had inflicted upon him both mentally and physically. He had once sought some measure of affection from her, reminiscent of the days he would nuzzle up to her and drink of her mother’s milk, but he had eventually come to the realization that her behavior then was out of necessity and not warmth. He knew now that the only way to gain something even close to her affection was to gain her recognition by allowing her to mold and form him into whatever she desired. To refrain from disappointing her and to become a tool she would use to craft her ideal world. He would relinquish his agency in order to please her, and he would remain numb so he could do so without hesitation or thought.
His cogitations were interrupted as the scent of urine tinged the air, causing him to look up with his mother’s eyes. Before him stood a colt not much younger in years than himself, eyes wide and limbs splayed stiffly out from his body in a posture comprised of both shock and terror. He padded a fraction closer until he could see his image reproduced in the colt’s vivacious green eyes. He could see the dim outline of an individual with a warped, fanged smile and glowing red eyes staring back at him and he instantly felt a separation of self. Could he ever truly be the creature that now peered back at him through the eyes of a terrified innocent? With his mother’s rigorous instruction it was more than a passing possibility. Eyelids concealed his mirror self and he took a step back, ruffling his wings as the colt fought to swallow.
He felt neither pleased nor displeased by this reaction as it was only natural for a colt that was presumably loved by both parents, nurtured, and protected to fear something as sinister as himself. Eyeing his trembling counterpart he saw the otherworldly possibilities he could have been presented with, and at the sight of the yellow liquid dripping down the colt’s legs he felt disgusted. This pitiful creature had never known fear, had never felt the abuse of rejection or the pain of disapproval. Lifting his paw he extended one lethal claw toward the colt, pressing it into the tender flesh of its shoulder and dragging it down along its leg, leaving a budding red ravine in his wake. Now it had a very small taste of a life devoid of innocence and warmth. With a pained gasp the colt was freed from its apparent paralysis and it loped away as quickly as its spindly legs would carry it.
He was fashioned in the image of the nightmares that invaded the dreams of the innocent, of the shadows that crept silently along awaiting the perfect moment to strike, and of the darkness to be found in the blackest of hearts. It may not have been what he had wanted for his life, but it was time for him to accept the truth. Perhaps, by doing so, his illusive father would even find a purpose for his existence.
“I am a tool,” he hissed beneath his breath, “and I shall be fashioned to the will and purpose of my crafter.”
Comments/Other: Thank you for the opportunity to try for such a magnificent basket from such an interesting pair!
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 7:42 pm
Username: xKOVAKtheWOLFx
Foal's name: Skotelogo [skoteinó álogo = dark horse in Greek]
Foal's temper: confined
Which prompt? one
Prompt response:
[Loddigesia is one of my babies.<33]
Skotelogo's eyes flashed as the bird-like foal blabbed on and on about himself. What's so great about having wings and stuff anyways? he thought clearly annoyed. As the green foal continued speaking about himself in complete vain, Skotelogo just had to snap. His tongue was sharp and bitter, striking forth, victimizing Loddigesia. "Shut up!" he cried."Just stop talking!" The cursed foal could not take it anymore and ran into the brambles around.
After a couple of moments isolated from the rest of the world, Sko heard the familiar sound of Lodd. What does he want now? He rolled his eyes and then looked at his "companion." "What now?"
"You look ugly." Lodd said, taking a quick sniff of the air, chin high in the air. "Maybe you should ask your parents to make you look better."
That was it. Someone just had to tell him. "Is it not obvious that I know how I look?" Sko snapped. "You are ugly too. Who even wants feathers on them? I could tear them off for you if you want." With his last words, a smile came to his face, delighted of the idea.
Lodd took a step back and snorted. "You will never learn, will you? Wings help me leave this hell hole whenever I want. But you? You will just be stuck here unless you want to walk your way out." The foal flapped his wings, ready to take flight.
Now Sko could not take it. He lunged himself towards Lodd, not caring about much in the world. For now, he just wanted to kill this foal. Nothing really mattered now.
Comments/Other: pretty family. good luck everyone.<33
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 11:09 pm
Username: Xx-fuzzy-gumdrop-xX
Foal's name: Erebus
Foal's temper: Evasive
Which prompt? Two
Prompt response:
I was one banana in a bushel. One banana with a crazy dream, to some day escape the tree in which i hung. The air was humid, the sun warm and the tree provided shade with wide, large leaves of vibrant green. Life on the tree wasn't hard but it limited my view of the world when there was so much more to see! I saw strange creatures walk, crawl, fly – strange creatures who had the ability to move about the Earth freely. Lucky creatures.
Golden rays were barely splitting the darkness when the tree shook violently. The strange creatures – humans - who walked on two legs amongst us were making quite a bit of noise for this early in the day. They were getting closer, reaching out with their hands toward us. The appendages closed firmly around each of my kin, pulling away 3-4 at a time. It was soon my own turn. I was terrified but yet excited. Ripped from the tree I had always called home, I was moving! Moving to see the world!
...
Strange. This was not how I envisioned travel. I always pictured the world as bright, colourful and warm, like from the small part of it I had seen in the tree. It was not so. Instead it was dark and cramped. We tightly packed inside a wooden crate, a thing of myth in the banana community or so we thought. The only source of light trickled in between the slates and I was thankful to be next to one of these rare light sources.
I did not enjoy travelling, it was nothing like in my thoughts. I do not know quite how long we had been moving, only that it has been many days. The heat was worse then on the tree, where at least a breeze broke the stifle. The way was rough, constantly being bumped and tossed. My brethren were taking a beating. The crate smelled of rot, those on the bottom had become squished from the weight and had perished. Others, the survivors, were loosing their beautiful green peel only to gain the black and bruised peel of an elder banana. Perhaps it was my positive feelings that prevented me from turning. Perhaps it was the small beam of light I received each day, that my peel managed to maintain its green colour. I will never know.
The crate seemed to have come to a final resting spot. The strange creatures argued over something. The smell inside was unbearable and I regretted my awful dreams of travel. My never-ceasing wishes had come true and I had brought this terrible fate on my kin. I was the last banana to still have their green peel. All others had long since grown weak, feeble – replacing young smooth peels with bumps and blackness. Not to say I was perfect. My own green was fading, I could feel my life slipping away with each appearance of a black mark. The mark of death.
Light! Light finally appeared, as the top of the crate was lifted. As a light breeze blew over me,the feeling of renewed hope returned. Perhaps there was still hope, still time to save a few of us. I was pulled from the box, but with that my hope was crushed once more. I was waved angrily in the face of another strange creature. The one who held me was very upset and I already knew why. No one wants the old bananas. They are mush, garbage. They fall off the tree on their own accord and become the ground. I was the last banana in my bushel to have green on my peel, but that would not save me. I was tossed again into the crate, which was promptly picked up and moved over a large metal box. I felt the world tilt and my entire bushel was forced to vacate our wooden travel compartment.
We landed rather softly but that was due to the death surrounding us. The stench of death and rot was way worse here then even in the crate. Rotten fruit and vegetables surrounded us, my dream had become a nightmare. It would be but a matter of a hours until I too succumbed to death and become but a festering pool of rot.
With a loud clash above, any light I had was shut out. This is where my adventure ended. Inside a metal casket filled with the mush of hundreds of other fruit with nothing left to say or do. There would be no more feeble beams of light to save my green peel now. Just the darkness and the black spots of death.
Comments/Other: Awesome family! I look forward to seeing them all, good luck everyone!
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 2:25 am
Username:Bardess Ookami
Foal's name: Set'tirin
Foal's temper: Introspectively Creepy
Which prompt? 1
Prompt response:
Strange? Strange am I? Why ever am I strange? Is it strange to look as I look and to be who I am? Well then, is he not strange himself? To look as he looks and be who he is? Whatever is it that makes me strange? Does that same make him strange as well. I dare say it does. So he is strange, and I am strange. What then of mother? Of my siblings? of his parents? His siblings? All strange as well. Yes, yes I do think we all are strange. What two Soquili are alike, for him to call me strange as though it were a pejorative? What drove him to such an odd comment? Perhaps had I asked him, I would have had that answer. Would mother be mad at me for failing to ask, or perhaps not mad just disappointed. That would be worse, would it not? Would she use her claws, or would her feelings simply ooze from each eye, dripping and sliding towards me until it seeped into my very bones and the earth upon which I stand, like so much blood. I wonder if it is too late to ask him. No.. no it is clear he is gone, the other foal has fled. Leaving nothing behind but this empty shell.
The foal sighed and took another bite of his meal, chewing slowly and carefully as he thought. There must be some way to appease his mother, to keep her claws from his flesh. But how? He took another mouthful, pensive.
Perhaps a gift, I could bring her. A token to sooth her savage side, or at least to turn it to a target that would be, frankly, not me. Yes. A focal point other than myself might be precisely what is needed. Or, perhaps a meal.
He took another mouthful and considered the food he was eating. Would his mother like this? Would it satisfy her, that if he failed to ask why the other thought that he was strange, at least he had a meal to share with her instead? He reached for another bite, then stopped himself. With a nod, he stepped back, his hoof settling into the grass once more. Yes, he would stop eating now, as delicious as it was, and would share the ample remains with his mother.
Strange. Strange indeed. But aren't we all, at heart, strange? Still, there are those that could take that word as hurtful. It is for the best that I have ensured that the foal shall never call anyone such a thing again.
He sank his teeth into the leg of the meal he had been consuming, and dragged the carcass to his mother. The other foal had long since fled his body, leaving only this shell to prove he ever had been. Well, he and his mother would make short work of it. At least, if the other foal had strange taste, well.. at least he had not tasted strange.
Strange.
Comments/Other: I think I shall have nightmares tonight. I hope you enjoyed.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 9:07 am
Username: iloveyoudie Foal's name: Malefactor Foal's temper: Bullying Which prompt? Quote: Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response) "No I don't want to. He's weird." It was little more than a whisper, a filly to her friend, but Mal could hear it on the wind. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such a thing and it didn't take idle gossip for him to know how different he was. But it was okay because different, to Malefactor, meant better. He was also not above letting them know it. He was scary? He was weird? Sure.The foal walked idly towards them, as if he had no idea they were talking of him in particular. His wings rustled and settled, his multiple eyes set in a lazy sort of relaxation. He could see them looking at him cautiously but upon realizing that he didn't seem a threat, their bodies relaxed and they bent to nibble the grass. Mal passed by close. "Hey.." he was gentle sounding, like a simple misunderstood child. The females looked surprised, pleasantly, "Oh-uh.. h-hi." He could read her expression as she wondered if she'd been wrong, as she felt foolish for judging him on his looks. The main offender swished her tail, a friendly and welcoming gesture. He continued to keep a slow and inoffensive pace until he was close, very close. Catching both fillies off guard Mal jumped suddenly at them and hissed. His lips drew back over his teeth, his wings extended and flared, every eye opened with sinister glowing and his paws dug aggressively into the turf. He looked like a beast ready to tear them to shreds, to maim and devour them. And they reared, neighing shrieks of fear, and darted in the opposite direction. Mal laughed, long and hard and loud. He laughed as they'd leapt in the air in surprise, he laughed at their stupid expressions and he laughed as they turned tail and fled. They wanted different and scary? He could give them that. Comments/Other: Thanks for reading and holding the contest!
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 10:40 am
Username: Zaikt. Foal's name: Baal. One of the seven princes of Hell, and lord of gluttony. Also known as Beelzebub. Foal's temper: Ravenous. He possesses a hunger for everything that's nigh impossible to satisfy, a trait which will undoubtedly run him into problems as he gets older. This desire to have all that he can isn't necessarily greed, as he doesn't strictly want things that are valuable, but instead wishes to have almost all that he sees before him just because he can. If he gathers up any items of use or worth, it's highly unlikely that he'll realize it, and those things will simply rot away in his hoard until somebody manages to sneak in and steal some of it. Baal is undeniably selfish, and believes that he is right just because he is--any claims to the contrary will be met with his best intimidation tactics, and likely more than a few insults as well. He's more than a bit grating, though whether or not that's intentional is a question better left unanswered, as the truth won't make him any better than what he was beforehand. While he may not be too terribly intelligent, instead sitting at the lower end of average, Baal possesses a sort of keen instinct that some would even go so far to say is predatory, which is certainly not far out if the ballpark. Possessive and fierce, he's very secretive and protective of what he considers his, and any trespassers into his territory will be met with force. At present, that's not a very large amount of force to be sure, but he's only a foal. When he grows, however... As he is already a large and stocky colt, it's no secret that this little hellion will grow to be massive, even if he won't be particularly tall. Instead, Baal has all the makings of a heavyset bruiser, and with how much he eats, there is no way he'll turn out anything less than titanic. With his features in mind, imagining him as an adult is maybe a little bit terrifying for everyone that's gotten on his bad side, which is more than a small number of people already. Which prompt? One Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
He thinks I'm a monster, a demon even--he's afraid of me, him and the rest of his friends, and they don't want me around them. They want me far away, hidden under rocks or something and out of view. I don't really know why, and I don't care. They're wrong. They're wrong because they're stupid, and that's it. Especially him. I don't care. He's not special like I am, him and his boring everything and his dumb hooves. They're nice hooves. I want them. Why can't I have them? They should be mine. He should be mine.
I'm different from them, and I already knew that. Why? Because I'm better. I'm not weak like them--I've got teeth sharper than theirs, claws that are better than their hooves, and I can see everything. Everything is mine because I can take it, and they have to wait for their parents to give it to them! That's not how my Mama works. Mama wants us to be strong, and I am strong. I'm different--why don't they think that's cool? I want them, that stupid colt and his stupid friends. I want it all, because I'm strong--doesn't everything go to the strongest? Isn't that how it's supposed to go? I don't know. Maybe I should care, just a little bit.
Maybe I should take them, so that they're mine and nobody else's. Nobody can have what's mine, because I took it, and I own it. They'll think I'm neat then. I won't be a monster if they don't know anybody else. They couldn't ask their parents for help--they'd have to ask me. I'd win. They'd be playing my games and we'd be friends and Mama would be proud because I took what I wanted and-- I'd win, I'd win.
If they won't let me have them, I'll just have to make them mine.Comments/Other:Little Baal will always want more. It doesn't matter if it's food or trinkets, respect or interaction--it won't be enough for him. He won't start out terribly evil, per say; instead, he'll be stuck thinking that he's right, and he won't understand why others don't respond well to his reasoning when it's clearly the best. He'll definitely be frustrated as a foal, confused as to why so many seem to think that he's the worst thing to walk the earth. Eventually, his drive for more will push him to range onward and outward, meeting those that may not understand him, though it will be those that shun him that'll put him on edge. Baal won't get why they won't give him the flattering words he wants, and this will only serve to infuriate him more and more until he actually listens to what is being said about him. 'Beast', 'horror', 'abomination'--each of these will be something he takes to heart, albeit not as any sort of call to change who he is; he'll use them to change who he is becoming. Baal will think of his mother first, remembering her power and ferocity, and will reason that if others won't give him more, he'll just have to take it instead. He'll decide that he can make his mother proud by becoming the beast that he's been thought to be, and will begin down a darker path than what he set off on. He may return to Proserpina at some point to show her what he's grown into, and possibly to see if there is anything else he can learn from her. Baal wants as much as possible, after all, and if his mother has anything else to give to him, he'll snap it up in an instant. This could end with him growing comfortable with his new identity or eventually chafing under it, even though he will never be truly good. Baal, at best, could be described as lawful evil, and even that's pushing it a bit. He will not be 'set on the right road' or made to see the error of his ways, and would firmly believe that he's justified in his actions until his last breath--he'll be strong enough to take what he wants for one, and it'll be his victims' faults for not being able to keep what is theirs. He won't take an ounce of blame or responsibility. Kinda did a bit of plotting, there. ; u; Thanks so much for the opportunity to try, and good luck to all the entrants! This is a lovely family with a lot of plotting potential, and I can't wait to see what'll come out of this contest~.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 3:27 pm
Username: Snow_Leopard_Anthro
Foal's name: Kazran
Foal's temper: Vain
Which prompt? Prompt 1
Prompt response: Kazran picked his way through the rocky wasteland that surrounded him. How he had come to be here he was unsure. 'Well that's not completely true...' He mentally chided. He had wandered away from his siblings out of utter boredom and tried to find some sort of adventure or dangerous thing to stick his unprepared nose in. That was Kazran to the letter. He believed himself invincible and would settle for no less than the most grand adventure every single day. He stretched one of his six wings leisurely, enjoying the feeling immensely. He was so caught up in his stretch that he failed to notice the other foal watching him with a look of almost pure terror. Yet those luminescent blue eyes of hers betrayed a curiosity that often killed the cat. He shifted on his pawed feet, closed his wing, and asked sharply, "Just what is it you are looking at?" He didn't mean to sound so harsh but he didn't like the way she was looking at him. Was he so strange to her? His caramel coat, pawed feet, and six winged self must have been odd to someone so plain he supposed. The young brown painted alicorn started at the sound of his voice but she did not run. That earned her points in Kazran's book, but not enough if she angered him. The claws on his paws were not just for looks after all. "Well..." She started slowly, "You are kinda weird lookin'." Her voice was so cocky it annoyed him. He was the one who was supposed to be cocky in this conversation. He was the more beautiful creature. 'She should be in awe!' He thought bitterly... Then why was she looking at him like he was a freak. He shifted on his paws and spat back, "Well what do you know Princess Plain!" The alicorn snorted and began to laugh in a braying manner almost more fitting of donkey than a soquili. "I am sure I know more than you do. You look like you are fresh from the basket!" Her words were punctuated with that awful braying laughter. He shook his head to clear his ears of the sound. "Just... Just leave me alone..." He said with an odd tinge to his voice. She was laughing at him. Laughing at him... He didn't want to believe it. Maybe he really was a freak. She may be plain but with her painted brown coat, white hair, and vivid green eyes she could be considered lovely to some. He on the other hand... His caramel coat was beautiful, his wings were glorious, his black mane was gleaming, his paws shifted the sand around him. He could feel everything. Small vibrations in the sand that led him to things to explore. He sighed and wandered away from the painted alicorn, back to his family where he did belong.
Comments/Other:
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 5:07 pm
Username: Angelique DelaMort Foal's name: Ludovicus Foal's temper: Imperious Ludovicus is full of righteous pride and knows that he is destined for greatness. He believes in whatever means are required to meet his end and will not hesitate to lie, manipulate, or steal to get what he wants. The only area that he shows reserve in is combat. Ludovicus considers himself a great warrior and refuses to cheapen his victory through trickery, although occasional deception is acceptable and even enjoyable. Which prompt? Quote: You are an unripened banana, the last in your shipment to still be green. Describe your feelings on the matter. The box was dark and the box was endless and the darkness went on forever. At least it felt that way to the little green Musa acuminata. That means banana. And this particular banana was feeling a little down, unwanted, unappreciated, and unloved. All of the other bananas were a beautiful yellow with only a few green tinges left around their stems while Pika, that was Pika of the Chiquita groves, was still entirely green. The other bananas laughed and called her greeny, and said she was "green with envy," and all sorts of unimaginably trite remarks. Meanwhile all Pika could do was lie there and want to wrap up in her own peel. It's not like she hadn't done anything in her power to pull it together and ripenup. She had basked in the sun hoping the yellow rays would transform her green coating into a beautiful golden skin with massive a'peel'! But it was not to be. Now she sat there on the top of the banana pile looking up into the blackness. She knew there was a lid up there somewhere but she couldn't see it. Just like no one else could see the beautiful golden peel she just Knew was inside of her...er, or would soon be outside of her. Deeper within the pile the other bananas were telling stories, trying to pass the time while they waited to be divided up and sent to the local supermarket. Most of them liked to tell scary stories and would try to make everyone around them jump with tales of ravenous locusts and sudden frosts! Pika would have crossed her arms and sulked, if she had any, but then suddenly thought of a scary story of her own. It was something she remembered her grandma 'Nana telling her when she was a little banana in her bunch. The green girl grinned as she poised herself, ready to tell her story as soon as the current one ended. Just as the other fruits were done with their side splitting laughter over the banana that slipped and fell Pika started her story. "Do you know about the two legs?" she began in a quiet, commanding voice. "Of course we know," a banana named Saffron snidely replied, her peel wrinkling disdainfully. "They plucked us from the trees and put us in this crate. They're practically our slaves, taking care of us, driving away the bugs, sending us on this all expenses paid trip!" "Yeah," Pika said trying to regain the others' attention. "But do you know what they Really want? Why they put us in here? And sent us thousands of miles away from our nice, safe homes?" She let the question linger in the air for a few moments. "Have you ever wondered what happens to the single bananas they take from the bunches? The ones that are never seen again?" The crate had grown still and quiet and there seemed to be an oppressive weight in the air. Even Saffron was quiet as she waited to hear what Pika would say next. "Well," Pika continued slowly, dragging out her words and enjoying the undivided attention of her peers. "First they look for the perfect banana, the right curve, the right firmness, and of course the brightest shade of yellow," she paused and let that last part sink in. "Then they take that banana into a special room filled with unimaginable....Horrors! With knives in drawers and on counters and sometimes even on the walls! And enormous devices with metal cages on the bottom that spin and spin and turn anything that touches them into a chunky pulp, or worse....it can make a banana into a banana purée!" Scattered gasps echoed though the crate and Pika heard a few whimpers. "But that's not even the worst part!" Pika said quietly. "Sometimes the two legs get a large tub and fill it with white stuff and card board or with piles of the frost that wilts us on the branch, do you know what they do with the pretty yellow banana then?" There was nothing but silence as the others waited to hear the fate of the lone fruit in the torture chamber. "First they break the banana's steam," Pika continued solemnly, adding as the others gasped, "it makes it easier for them to rip off the peel." "They'll skin her alive?!?" a banana at the bottom of the bunch cried out. "That's not even the worst part!" Pike said taking a deep breath. "After they take off the peel, they'll cut her up into little pieces and put her in the tub with the cardboard or the frost....then..." The other bananas all leaned in close, "Then....the two legger....he EATS HER!" As the entire crate let out a silent scream, they were suddenly flooded with sunlight, blinding them all, as the lid was ripped off. "Just a minute, Joe," a hand was reaching in, stretching towards the pile. "I wanna grab a snack before we finish unloading all of these crates. Woah, look, one's still green! I love the green ones!" Comments/Other: This looks like a fun family with some awesome plots ahead of them! Thanks for giving this opportunity to join in! Also - I learned that bananas that ripened under UV lights turn bright blue!
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 5:26 pm
Username: Divena
Foal's name: Yama Tunoi
Foal's temper: Reflective
Which prompt? 2
Prompt response:
Life began simply. I grew amongst my brothers, never thinking of the future. There was sun, rain, warmth. Life was good. And then we were plucked from our home and packed away in a crate. Maybe I would have seen it coming, if I had just paid attention. But I didn’t.
Time passed. I watched as my brothers lamented their fate. What would become of us? Why did we have to be plucked? What was next? With each question, each worry, they lost their lush green color and darkened to a strange yellow. I worried at what this would mean. Were they dying? But then I noticed a small spot of yellow on my own skin and quickly banished the concerns.
I tried to tell my brothers about what was happening, but they couldn’t see it. They only continued to question and worry, and change. When they had lost their green shine entirely, they grew silent. I didn’t dwell on why. Why’s were what had happened to them in the first place. Before long I was the only one left with my green youth.
Now I sit in silence, surrounded by my yellowed brethren, and I can’t keep the Why’s and What now’s at bay. I tried, desperately, but I have to wonder… What was the point? I wasn’t happy. I was alone. Different. Green when all the others were yellow. Life was taking us away from what we had always known, and I alone faced the future with my youth intact. Were they right while I was wrong? Should I have worried along with them?
I long to ask, but my brothers are silent. Or, if they can speak, they do so in such a way that I can no longer hear them. I could be like them, I know. I could change. All I have to do is give in to the worry. But… I can’t bring myself to do so. Somehow, I know, that I will lose myself if I follow the batch.
No, for now, I would rather be me, be young and happy, than yellow and miserable. Who needs conversation, anyway?
Comments/Other: Not really sure where that all came from sweatdrop But the basket and family are lovely!
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 7:17 pm
Username: one over three
Foal's name: Enoch
Foal's temper: Beguiling
Which prompt? 1
Prompt response:
Enoch had approached the young filly with every intention of forming a fast friendship. While he was learning fast from his mother and doing his very best to mimic her every day his childish sense of play hadn't yet entirely melted away. Never was this more apparent than when he wandered off and was separated from his family.
His soft paws made little sound on the new grass, it was his rough yet still high voice that alerted her to his presence.
"You're pretty! Like snow. I like snow!"
Judging by the smile on her face when she turned she had been expecting another foal like herself, but the from standing before her was that of a monster. Each of his many eyes shone with an unearthly light. If you stared into it long enough, you may have noticed that each and every pupil was shaped like a heart. She wouldn't though. His eyes were flicking about too fast right that moment anyways. This world held far too much wonder than would allow him to focus.
"Ew..." was all the filly could muster.
"Do you want to play? I'll hide first if you want to seek!"
"Why do you have so many eyes?" she took a step back, away from him. "That's so gross."
Every eye on him swivelled forward to stare at her. "How can you stand having only two eyes?" it wasn't his fault, his whole family was like this! "It's like being blind in the back of your head."
"Ew! No! That's not normal! You're a monster!" she looked about ready to burst into tears.
Enoch stepped back. She was scared. He could see it, he could smell it. Something in his head switched and a low growl came rising up out of his throat. She took another step back. The muscles in his legs tensed. It was impossible to fight against his innate prey drive.
He pounced. If she had been a moment slower she would have been dead. The chase continued until an older stallion came into view, at which point Enoch sobered up a bit and changed direction to hide in the woods. He'd watch for a while, if she didn't leave his side again, there was little to do but return to his mother.
Comments/Other: This basket shall reveal the depths of Riri's madness.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 7:51 pm
Username: musicaloner7
Foal's name: Consus { chthonic god protecting grain storage. playing off of mama's name~ }
Foal's temper: Insightful
Which prompt? prompt 1
Prompt response:
A family of obscurity's, Consus was birthed into. There wasn't a single thing that one would consider "normal" in the lineage he was assigned to, nor did he fight against it. Nightmares that would haunt the subconscious minds of sleeping foals from other plain equestrian's were an everyday sight for the young foal. But how could he even find fear in something so common, and simple, so basic and natural in his world of eerie kinsmen. Looking upon the mother who brought him into the world, and Consus could see nothing out of the ordinary... if anything, he could only see a means of comfort and approval that he was bred from an impeccable specimen; Powerful, intelligent, and fearless. And if her looks instilled fear into others, well all the better. He did not even fault her for the means of punishment she exercised, even should they be physically placed upon himself or his siblings. The pain would give conception to strength, and in turn bring out better character. For the time being he accepted it, and took what he could from such acts, well aware he too would be a force to reckon with even more than he already was. This was conditioning to keep him from becoming the pathetic whelp that most Soquili bore unto the kawani lands.
Emotions were rarely expressed upon the features of the young colt, an absence that was quite noticeable straight away, in any varied circumstance. An air of apathy was heavily weighed around the youth like a cloud of thick smog that clung to him as a damp cloak would, wafting and exuding a very powerful message. To the more fair hearted, such a demeanor could drain the very joy and bliss from them with his mere presence, glance, or a passing encounter. One would not be graced with the sight of a smile, or contortion of sorrow, nor severe scrunching of anger. The most minute of twitches, wrinkles, or knitting would be visible on his placid expression to convey in a mild degree his opinion on a matter. Having this trait paired with the clearly unique appearance he possessed from his bloodline, friendship or other means of relations were hardly obtained.
It was often that Consus would wander on his own to explore, stalk, and get a lay of the land, as well as scope out any possible intruders that were venturing too close. He knew it would bother his mother, in which he might be treated to the sight of her putting any unwanted company in their place. Such a wonderful sight to behold, that would be~ Unfortunately given his age, and size, his own physical strength wasn't anything to make others fear. But soon, some day... he'd have them quivering in their hooves just a the sight of him. It was thoughts like these that had the young colt give the most faint and vague of twitches to the corner of his tight lips. However... should he come across one his own size, perhaps he could at least practice. In these escapades on his own, Consus was able to mull and analyze most things his mind would ponder on, further developing his views on the world around him. He could actually hear himself think in these moments of solitude, to which he preferred as opposed to being surrounded by others. So loud others seemed to be... foolish, and immature. Simply staying around idiocy the foal would often feel his mind becoming sluggish and drained of logic and intellect. That gnawing, and grinding of irritating voices... it was enough to make the blood boil in his veins, and a heat grip his gut, {paws/hooves} wanting to tear into the earth below. Ergo, solitary wandering was very much to his liking. Reflecting upon lessons learned, words spoken, and molding his own opinions would lead him to getting rather lost in his own head, but he would never allow himself to become completely aloof and unawares. Mother surely would not approve of that.... and nor would he.
On a particular excursion Consus took into great curiosity a birds nest he found nestled at a moderate leveled branch, on a rather titan sized tree. It's canopy stretched wide and thick, but had stray lower limbs that would protrude from various, sporadic angles and levels. He watched as a mother and father duo would swoop and dive into the nest with food to feed their needy, helpless young. It was enough to make his own lips get a licking from how delicious those defenseless little ones must taste, sharp fangs peeking out from the peeled back lips. But as he began fantasizing of tearing into such succulent flesh, a crack to a twig, and hush of grass drew his attention away swiftly. Ears twitching upright, and eyes surveying the area, the source was found straight away with ease. A few paces off to the left of him was a foreign filly, a tad older than he, tentatively stepping through the lush forest.... rather noisily. Her movements were no where near as fluid or appropriately placed as his mother had taught his own to be.. it was a surprise the young female hadn't been made into a meal with the ruckus she was making. Perhaps she already had a predator stalking her even now...
Consus kept his ground, staring at her intently, eyes unblinking, face blank and emotionless. Instantly he began to pick her apart in his mind, noting her dull appearance, and lacking features in various area's, the flimsy and weak excuses for wings she had dawned upon her back that resembled a butterflies... and the clear lack of confidence and common sense was repulsive. It was enough to cause a faint wrinkling to ladder along the bridge of the colts nose with distaste. It even twitched when she finally took recognition to his presence, her face brightening with a huge smile, and bounding over to him obnoxiously with an over abundance of energy. Revolting...
However, as the unobservant filly got closer to Consus, she slowed her pace, and her expression shifted to one that resembled shock and uncertainty. His own remained constant. Eventually stopping just a few steps from the colt, the stranger eyed him up rather thoroughly, brows drawing and head canting with obvious confusion,
"What...are you?" she asked blatantly. The tone of her voice had the hint of Innocent inquiry, but it was annoying even so.
What kind of a dumb question was that....
Lids faintly lowering just a touch, Consus responded flatly, "Last I checked, I was a foal. Has that changed since?" the sarcasm was thickly laid on, eyes boring into the unwanted guest as he felt his abhorring nature for unintelligent beings starting to crawl into his conscious mind. In doing so, it most likely brought upon a more depressive atmosphere as his demeanor became more intensely unenthusiastic, and uninviting.
Unfortunately, it only made the filly give a nervous giggle, and flip her ears back for a moment, before continuing on with the bubbly tone, and questions that weren't fully thought through.
" Are you sure? I've never seen a foal look like... that. You look so weird! why do you have such a strange body? I don't know anyone who looks like that!" another giggle, and her head made a jerking motion in gesture to Consus' entire body, those delicate, thin wings flitting with the amusement that was radiating from that filly.
It was in this moment that Consus allowed his mind to really absorb the stupidity that inhabited the youth before him. He stayed silent for perhaps an uncomfortably prolonged amount of time, just staring at her, and contemplating, really turning the situation around to see every which way of it before deciding upon how he would execute, and silence this fool.
While Consus aspired to hold the physical prowess his mother possessed, he was also similar in kind to his father, in that he wanted to pick and choose when he'd allow his intelligent mind to do the fighting, and when he'd pick for his muscle to. For this course of action, the use of his eloquent tongue.
"I know for a certain fact, that I am more a foal than you, miss." he began, slowly, maintaining a heavy eye lock with her, "Not only am I stronger, smarter, and of better lineage than you, but I could most certainly bring an end to you. I could dangle your life right before your very eyes, and have you begging for mercy, to which I would not. I am not frail, or weak, as you are, along with a pathetic excuse for wings that are attached to that slope of a back you have. Your lack of knowledge provides that you are still at a much lesser position than I, and judging by your robust size, I'd say you were at least a few weeks older than my siblings and myself. Thus, this makes me wonder... " he began to circle her at a leisurely pace, letting his words drip off his lips like sap, "are you the bottom of the barrel when it comes to our generation to come? or are there more bottom dwellers like you? such a pathetic excuse for a foal leaves me worrying that we may go extinct sooner than later. Thankfully, not to worry, for my mother has at least supplied the world with a few elite offspring that shall keep our kind going. And hopefully, snuff those like you, out."
Making his way back around her, he gave another hard look up and down, eyes narrowed sharply, twinkling with what was flaring in his core, "I possess an advantage with my 'strange looks', and superior genes that will give me an upper hand in every sense of the matter. My mother was smart enough to know that she could create powerful, strong foals, and did so with a suitable partner. While your own parents..." another look, and his cold eyes locked again, "made this unfortunate accident." A bold step forward was taken, Consus clearly refusing to allow someone to insult those who created what he was.
"And so I suggest this to you; try keeping your mouth shut before those better than you, or you may find their faces to be the last you see before your breath stops."
The filly's eyes were wide, body rigid, and wings quivering. She was utterly flabbergasted. Not a word came out of her, just soft little whimpers and airy sounds of attempts to reply, however she snapped out of the spell Consus had put under her, stepped back, and turned tail to run where she'd come.
Feeling rather proud of himself, the colt stayed where he was, calmly watching as she left, and the vegetation in her wake gave their last sways. Glancing back up to the tree, he saw that one of the parent birds had settled onto their young for the evening, in which Consus decided it best for him to return home too. Surely mother would be proud of his feat.
Comments/Other: thank you kindly for the opportunity~
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 8:24 pm
Username: Nyx Queen of Darkness
Foal's name: Ishmael
Foal's temper: Magnetic
Which prompt? 1
Prompt response:
Call me Ishmael.
He looked at the filly who stood before him. she was beautiful. Her hair was wind-blown and longer than the other fillies. Her mouth was cute, pert almost. Her eyes were luminous green orbs.
They almost glow as much as mine. But not the same way, no, not the same way.
That wicked little mouth though. She was asking about all the eyes on his skin, and the wispy shape of his body. "Why do you have so many eyes?
She said it kindly and with curiosity, but she was not the first. She would not be the last either. These creatures with their small minds and visions. They asked their questions which were often insolent or stupid or both. They couldn't see past the end of their noses, but he could.
He should tell her that it was easier to see with all these eyes. That he had plan and she was just a small part of it. She should be grateful for that. Beautiful she was, but simple too as most creatures were. She did not see the plan or any inkling of what could be. She was just too limited.
But she was also useful. He could bend her to his will, he knew that. She was as pliable as clay in his paws. Mold her and shape her how he needed to, then smash her to pieces when he was done.
Until then though...
He ducked his head as though he was bashful, "The better to see how pretty you are." He ducked his head again to hide the absence of a blush on his cheeks.
She gave a soft, girlish giggle. "My name's Andrea. What's yours?"
He smiled at her, she'd accepted the lie just that easily. "Call me Ishmael."
Comments/Other: Outcast in the Bible, famous character from Moby d**k, and father of Arab nation.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 9:23 pm
Username: Nikkichomp
Foal's name: Noire
Foal's temper: Vindictive
Which prompt? Even as a foal, you're aware that you're very different from most soquili. Maybe you have paws, or six wings, or eyes covering your body. Maybe all three! One day, you meet a foal from another family and they make no secret of finding you spooky and strange. Does this offend you? Delight you? What do you do? (Feel free to include the other foal in your response)
Prompt response:
Noire trotted down the path, a grin on his face. He was aware of the many pairs of eyes on him, as well as the uneasy energy coming from the Soquili who watched his travel. A young foal stood closer to the path than anyone else. He lunged toward her and snapped his teeth. Although he had no intention of actually nipping her, he got a perverse sense of pleasure from the terrified expression that crossed the foal's face as it skittered away. He bared as teeth at the foal's nearby mother, who displayed a distinct air of displeasure at his behavior. The frightened and unhappy whispers that traveled around made him feel proud. He'd minded the names others called him when he was very young, but he quickly learned to accept their fear, and even allowed it to make him feel good about himself. He was different; he was fearsome.
As he continued, an older filly popped out onto the road, standing directly in his way. He slowed to a halt and stared at her.
Hello, she said. She looked blatantly into his glowing, red eyes, obviously unafraid. Her eyes traveled along his body, taking in his strange features. Cool, you look *really* weird!! she exclaimed.
Noire just stood there, mouth gaping. Other than his family, he'd never encountered anyone who wasn't afraid of him. His unsettling appearance had become a fact of life, and to have someone be utterly unfazed by his looks took him by surprise. You're in the way, he said, baring his teeth at her. He'd learned very few social skills. Instead, his upbringing had taught him how to be blunt, defensive, and somewhat vicious. With a father who either ignored him or used him for unknown purposes, and a mother who taught using pain, the sort of love he'd known for his entire life was not the sort that would show him a reason to have much courtesy for others.
Noire snorted menacingly toward the filly, but she stood her ground. The name's Aiko, she told him matter-of-factly. When he said nothing in reply, she stamped a hoof. This is the part where you introduce yourself, you know, she told him impatiently.
Introduce...myself? he thought. No one's ever asked for my name before. The colt studied her with a glare before replying. Noire, he said sharply, and tried to move around her. But Aiko turned as he walked by and began to follow him. Where are you going? she asked. Noire bared his teeth again at her question and did not reply. Well, doesn't really matter, you look like you could use some company. I'll just walk with you until I get to the edge of where I'm allowed to go, she said. And as the morning faded into early afternoon, that's exactly what she did. The filly chattered as they walked, filling the silence that he'd grown accustomed to. It made him uncomfortable at first, but somehow, it grew on him, and he didn't notice it as anything unusual before long. So when she announced abruptly partway through the afternoon that she had to go, an entirely unfamiliar emotion hit him. If he had someone to talk to about it, they'd call it loneliness.
Comments/Other:
First, I am totally in love with their mother so thank you very much for the opportunity to join the family!!
Potential future plots:
*family plots (of course)
*Noire and Aiko will cross paths as adults; if all goes well, they will turn out to be best friends.
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 9:56 pm
Username: Miss Cherie Foal's name: Dagon - meaning: The Baker of Hell (because who can’t resist a banana tie in, somehow?) Foal's temper: Calculating - You have no idea how tempted I was to put 'fruity' here. Which prompt? Prompt 2 Prompt response:Quote: You are an unripened banana, the last in your shipment to still be green. Describe your feelings on the matter.
They say that in the beginning, when the great Sun rose first in the sky, her rays touched the earth, and the first tree sprouted up from the ground. They say that when the moon came out, his crescent cast its light, and our people took his shape. Banana. In those first days, we were all children, as green as that first tree, ever yearning for the Sun’s light. And in those days, the moon chased the Sun across the sky, but he never caught her. Father Moon yearned for Mother Sun, but she would not have him, for he had not yet proven himself.
So, Father Moon said to the people, ‘Come, my children, and I will show you her ways, if only you will do one little thing for me.’ And in that time, the people longed to be like the Mother Sun, for they admired her beauty and strength. And so, they sat before the great Father. ‘Father Moon, what must we do, so that you will teach us her ways?’ they asked of him, eager to hear his answer.
And so he told the people of his plight, and asked that they only profess his love to the Sun, for he could only come out at night, and she by day. Then the people went to the great Sun, and they told her, they told her of his love. ‘What did you say?’ she asked them, for the Sun was hard of hearing, and they were very near to the ground. ‘You must come closer, for I cannot hear you.’
Hearing this, the people became afraid. They had never been close to the Sun, but they felt her warmth even now. Surely, if they drew near they would perish! Many of the people refused to fulfill their end of the bargain, and they remained green. But some among the people heeded her call. ‘Mother Sun, Mother Sun, we have come to tell you of Father Moon’s love!’ they cried.
Yet even then the Sun could not hear them. Then came a banana who called out to her with a great voice, and though she could not make out his words, the great Sun reached down her hand to pluck him from the bunch. Within her hand, he began to change. At first, patches of yellow appeared upon his peel, until he had become as golden as her rays.
Seeing this, the people cried out to the Sun, for they wished to share in her glory. But the brave banana had begun to feel a terrible pain. Within her grasp, his peel began to brown and blacken as he burned. Still, he persisted. ‘Mother Sun, Mother Sun, I have come to tell you of Father Moon’s love,’ he told her, his voice wracked by pain.
‘Oh my child, what is this that you have done?’ she cried in dismay, even as he shriveled before her. ‘You could not hear me, great Mother,’ he whispered, for his voice was all but burned out of him. ‘Such is my love, dear Mother Moon, that I would come to you like this, even as a banana, knowing that your touch would be my end.’
And she wept, at long last realizing the identity of the banana that she held in her hand. ‘Oh Father Moon, you would risk yourself for my love?’ Twin tears wound their way down her face as she looked upon the dying banana.
‘Without your love, I am but a banana in the sky,’ he told her. ‘Pale and alone. At least in my last moments, I will have known your touch.’ He was shriveled, in that moment, near completely black with the heat of Mother Sun’s palm. And the people watched, and the people wept, for they had loved Father Moon as their own father, and they knew that he would never chase Mother Sun across the sky again.
She clutched him to her breast for a moment, and then, still weeping, she threw him into the sky. There he hung, taking on his great form once more. ‘You must never again touch me,’ she told him, for fear that he might perish in her arms. ‘But I do love you, and there shall now be a place for you by day as well as night.’ And so the moon came out by day, and by night.
The people never forgot what Father Moon had done, and they forever draw near to the Sun, but never so close as he who loves her so. In his honor, we call out to the Sun, telling her of his love. Each day, one of the people will be called upon to take on the role of the Moon, and he will call up to the Sun in a great voice, and she will draw a little closer to us, but never so near as she did in those early days.
It is not yet my time, and I feel a great yearning to prove my worth to Father Moon and Mother Sun. I am the last of my bunch who is still green as the first tree. I am the youngest, and I am not yet a man. But one day, someday soon, I too shall take up the Moon’s mantle, and I will cry out to Mother Sun. I will be brave. I am not afraid… am I? Mother Sun would not burn me as she burned Father Moon, surely. Surely, I need have nothing to fear. And yet… I am the very last, and none of my brothers have returned from the hand that reached down to take him up.
A hand reaches for me. It is my time.
Comments/Other: BANANA! Man, I don’t even know what to say here. I absolutely love the lines that this foal comes from, and I honestly could not resist taking a whack at this. So, thank you for the opportunity, and I had a blast writing up a banana origin story.
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