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Juliette06

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 25, 2025 9:07 pm


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Lycaena loved pretty things. Her little bag of gems was, so far, the prettiest thing she owned, and she guarded it jealously against any perceived threat, real or imagined. It was the one area that she allowed herself to be petty and small about; they were all she really had in the world, so she felt that it was fair to protect them.

Granted, nobody had ever tried to take them from her - not yet, anyway. This was good, because she was not an especially strong fighter. She knew that about herself, so she had to play defense entirely. Lycaena couldn't actually imagine ever harming someone, especially not over something as impersonal as jewels.

Even if they were gorgeous and very nearly flawless.

But still. As long as nobody tried to take them from her, she would never have to find out which side of her would win out - the calm, serene, friendly side, or the side that would (maybe) defend what was hers. Truthfully, she would be happiest if she never had to answer that particular question; fighting people all the time, approaching the world with that level of distrust? It sounded exhausting, and Lycaena was just as happy to go through life as pleasantly as possible.

...She really, really hoped nobody ever tried to take her gems. Stealing was wrong, and mean, and then she would face all kinds of moral questions, and that also sounded extremely tiring.

As long as nothing ever threatened her bag of pretty rocks, though, she would be just fine. Maybe she'd even make a friend or two!

...As long as they didn't try to take her pretty gems.


((WC: 276))
PostPosted: Wed Feb 26, 2025 12:23 pm


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Lenox was happiest when everything was in its place. He liked order, he liked uncontested simplicity. He liked peace and quiet, which he didn't think was so unreasonable. He liked not having to think particularly hard about any particularly daunting problems. His life was...

His life was privileged. He knew that, on some level. He knew other Soquili had problems - struggles. Issues that demanded their full attention. Challenges that were, in some cases, literally life or death.

Lenox shuddered. Could you imagine? The horror.

He'd never had to fight or struggle for anything, and he knew that. His parents, and their parents before them, and their parents before them - as far as he knew, none of them had ever had to fight or struggle. Perhaps at some point, some of them had fought for their place in the world, but if so, it had been lost to time. As far as he knew, the Bluebreezes were simply....just like this. Like the sky or the sea or the earth, his family's position in the world was a given.

Lenox Bluebreeze drifted to thoughts of his intended, and his mood darkened slightly. He very much hoped that nothing, and no one, would interrupt the status quo of his family history. Perhaps she was just - young, and impetuous. Perhaps her family hadn't raised her right, to appreciate and nurture the value of an unexamined life. Perhaps, with time, he could convince her of his way of thinking - that it was easier, and better for everyone, if everyone just did exactly what they were supposed to do.

...Somehow, he doubted it.


((WC: 267))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 28, 2025 8:31 am


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Rudolph, red nose and all, was having a good day. He had those more and more often now - being an adult was awesome. Being a child, a teenager? Awful. You couldn't pay him enough to revisit those days. Not for anything in the world would he return to those days. The training, the bullying...

Rudolph shuddered, and pulled himself from his memories. Dwelling on the bad did no good, especially when the present was nothing but good. He had Clarice, he had a job, he had stability and purpose and self-confidence.

In so many ways, he was extraordinarily lucky. Plenty of little reindeer would've hung up their horns if they'd gone through what he had, but thanks to Clarice and his other friends, not only had he survived, but he'd thrived, and become a strong, confident leader to boot. Take that.

Yes, Rudolph took himself and his life very seriously - he was so grateful for it. But... he refused to be like the adults that had raised him. They had been too serious, too strict in their ideas of what was good and what was bad and what was allowable. There needed to be room for variety, for differences. Different could be good - different could be great, actually.

...Or at least that was what Clarice tried to make him believe, on the days when 'different' felt like just another word for 'failure'. He knew, intellectually, that that was not the case, or at least it didn't have to be. In his heart, though, it was sometimes a harder hill to climb, undoing what had been done to him as a child. So he focused outward, and made sure that anyone who seemed different that happened to cross his path knew that they were special, and that different could just be another word for 'success'.


((WC: 304))
PostPosted: Sat Mar 01, 2025 1:02 pm


--- End Feb/Start March ---

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 01, 2025 2:06 pm


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Cirro Strata could finally rest. It snuck up on her - faster than she would've liked, but taking much longer than it had seemed, too. Her children, her beloved children, were finally grown and more or less on their own. More or less because - well, they were her babies. They'd never really be on their own; she wouldn't let them. She was always just a quick flight away from them, if they ever really needed her. Or better yet, if they just wanted her - it was nice to be able to speak with her children like adults now, even if to her they would always be the little filly and colt that had run her ragged from the moment they emerged from their baskets.

But they were adults, and on their own, as much as they would ever be. That meant Cirro Strata herself suddenly found herself with free time. So much free time. What had she done with all her free time before the children were born? She honestly couldn't even remember. Maybe that was another thing being pregnant took away from you - your memories of the BC Time: before children.

So what to do with all this time of hers? Their home was clean enough, food was stocked...

...

Maybe she kind of missed the exhausting chaos of having children around. Maybe, now that the first two were out on their own...

...Would that be completely crazy? Probably, but Cirro couldn't shake the thought. Their nest just seemed so...

Empty. It seemed so empty. And Cirro didn't feel old enough to be doddering around in a garden or something. She was still young, healthy and in her prime - there was plenty to do...and maybe there was plenty of time for another basket or two along the way, if she planned it out right and if Sol was on board.

He would be on board. He had to be. Right?


((WC: 319))
PostPosted: Sat Mar 01, 2025 3:35 pm


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Prompt: Stars.


Most of the time, Fritz preferred the daylight. He was a creature of the sun, of light, of all things bright and beautiful, colorful and shimmering. He danced in flowers and chased butterflies; he laughed at rabbits and sang back to the songbirds.

Most of the time, Fritz preferred these things - the light, the sun, the daytime. No secrets or shadows.

Most of the time.

But every so often, the whisper of nighttime reached out to him, curled its cool tendrils around his neck and shuddered down his spine. Sometimes, the stars called to him, and who was he to ignore the mystery of space?

That was what found him resting alone on the edge of a cliff near his and Eabha's home, studying the stars above. They didn't twinkle, they just glowed and shifted across the sky as the hours ticked by. There were stories there, if one could only be quiet enough to hear it.

Usually, Fritz was not. He was not quiet, as a rule - he was jovial and jocular, entertaining, talkative. Rarely did those things go along with being silent, as he was now. It was nice to be alone with his thoughts, with the sounds of nature. It was nice to hear the story in the silence. Not all the time (it would make him crazy, he knew, if he tried to do this every night), but just often enough to keep his hooves on the ground.

But for now, it was nice. He would listen to the stories in the stars, his own heartbeat, and then he would fall asleep, and have pleasant dreams the whole night through.


((WC: 274))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 01, 2025 4:10 pm


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Prompt: Alone.


It wasn't often Eabha found herself alone in their den. It was usually bustling and noisy, Fritzwallace always making enough chaos for at least two or three people all on his own. He was almost always chipper and cheerful, but thoughtful and generous and so kind, all the way down to his bones. Sure, sometimes they both needed time to themselves, away with their thoughts, but... usually 'they both' meant 'Eabha needed'. Fritz was capable of entertaining himself, but it wasn't his preferred method of existence.

So when Eabha returned to a quiet den, she was curious. Not concerned; Fritz was a big, strong Unicorn who could more than take care of himself, and she wasn't his mother or his mate - just his friend.

But friends could still make sure friends were okay. Usually he found a way to leave a message for her, if he'd been back to the den before going off wherever he'd gone. If he'd gone wherever he was directly, though, then there wouldn't be any message.

Eabha gave it some more time - she had a quick snack, and then when he still wasn't back, she left, wandering in slowly increasingly-wide concentric circles. She didn't call his name; if he was busy, or in peril, then it would do no good to blow her location.

Eventually, the ground began to increase its incline, and a few minutes later, Eabha spotted her friend, laying down, eying the stars and the moon above them.

He looked like a painting. Art. A Unicorn in the blue-black shadows, illuminated by just the natural light far above them. She didn't usually get to see him like this - lost in his thoughts. Eabha thought usually he liked to pretend he didn't have any, but in moments like this, she knew it was all an act.

She would never forgive herself if she disrupted this moment of serenity. Carefully, so gingerly, Eabha made her way back down the cliff to their den, and when Fritz returned, she gave no indication that she knew where he'd been, and he didn't share. But that was okay - they both settled down and slept, at ease.

At peace.


((WC: 361))
PostPosted: Sat Mar 01, 2025 4:39 pm


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Jack wished that he had a family.

Candra was perfect - there was no doubt about that. He loved her, completely and fully. It was as simple and as effortless as that; like breathing or being alive. It was, at the same time, the most exhilarating thing that had ever happened to him, and the thing that made him feel more stable and secure than he'd ever felt in his life.

Candra was perfect.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was the past: the family that had brought him into this world, so long ago it felt like a different lifetime, something that had happened to another person. The problem was always in the past, because the present, and in all likelihood, the future, were wrinkle-free and serene, as long as he had Candra.

The problem was what he'd been - who he'd been, and what he'd been through - before Candra landed in his life like an angel. He wished he had a family. He remembered a time when he did; he remembered his parents. He even, faintly, remembered his grandparents.

He wished they could've met Candra. They would've loved her. Candra had welcomed her into his family, and he just - he wished that he had a family to welcome her into, as well.

But he didn't. He wondered if that hole in his heart would ever heal, or if he was just operating a diminished capacity for joy now, forever impacted by long-ago loss and grief.

He wished he had a family. He didn't have one. But he did have Candra.

And she was perfect, so how could he ever complain? Candra was perfect, and maybe she was all the family he could dare to need.


((WC: 285))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 7:46 am


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Someone had been in her ship.

Marina wasn't quite sure when she had started thinking of the big sunken ship as hers, but she had, and as such, she felt very protective of it. Bordering on possessive. This was her ship now, and how dare someone else trample all through it? Maybe she should move into the ship, make it her new home...

But no, it was falling apart. The wood was beginning to rot, going soft in some places and completely absent in others. It would not make a suitable home for Marina, unfortunately, because being there all the time was the only way she could think of to keep anyone from ever messing with her ship again.

Then again, the very fact that it was falling apart seemed to indicate that it wouldn't last forever. So she should take advantage of it while it was here.

Most of the good treasures had been taken - some by Marina herself, some by others that had foraged or found her secret hiding places. But not all of them. There were some things that didn't shimmer the way gold and silver did, but were fascinating nevertheless. Great colorful swatches framed or rolled. Some of the colors were flicking away into the ocean, but most of them remained, and most of them remained beautiful.

Marina thought beauty, as a concept, was something that many of her fellow underwater dwellers didn't appreciate enough. Most of them were concerned with food and sleep and not much else. It was a shame. Beauty was what really made life worth living.


((WC: 264))
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 9:37 am


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Hipolito was rarely lonely. He had a way of finding company when he wanted it - whether of the adult nature or simply someone to pass the hours with. His social circle had shrunk slightly with the arrival of Ofelia and the realization that this was a tiny being who relied upon him for everything at every minute of every day, but it hadn't evaporated. They had traveled for most of her childhood, never finding a place that really felt like home enough for Hipolito to settle there safely. Safety was being on the move - was teaching the girl to spread her wings, literally, and take to the sky, to see it from above. That was where people like them - beautiful, brilliant, and better than most - belonged.

But now Ofelia was grown, and only still traveling with him out of either obligation or lack of anything better or more interesting to do, he was sure. He didn't mind; family was obligation, to a certain extent, and it was right that she be obligated to him as he was obligated to her.

That said - it had been a long time since he was truly on his own. A long time since he had only had his own thoughts to entertain him.

He found he didn't like it much, and decided that it was time to expand his social circle once again, and find someone to entertain him, and keep his mind from any darker thoughts that dared to n** at the pleasant existence of Hipolito Alejandro Elegante Orosco-Neron.


((WC: 256))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 9:50 am


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Pacha had been practicing.

She was determined to show her herd and her family that her experience outside of herd lands hadn't been a disaster. Or at least not just a disaster; there had been lessons learned, of many kinds, but most helpfully, the realization that Pacha was able to heal others around her.

So she was spending a lot of time with the children of the herd. They got hurt a lot, it turned out. Scrapes and scratches, bruises and, once, a break. Illnesses - fevers, colds. Pacha saw everything.

She wasn't able to heal everything immediately - there were other healers who were more talented, more powerful, than she was. But she watched those healers work, and was amazed to discover that there was more healing magic than just what was held in her horn. She observed the collection of herbs, of plants and liquids and mixes spread across wounds to alleviate pain, to encourage speedy, natural healing.

Pacha was learning. Pacha was practicing. She was still quiet, still withdrawn into herself, but she could feel the way the others in the herd looked at her now; not with pity or residual disappointment, but rather with interest or, she thought, maybe, something like pride.

Pacha would become a healer. A real healer. She would serve her herd, and she would show them that exploration, while dangerous, could be good. She was good, and she could be even better.

It might take her days, weeks, months - it might even take her years to achieve the skill, knowledge and renown that other members of her herd wielded. But she would get there, and then...she would show them all.


((WC: 276))
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 11:21 am


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Ofelia wouldn't describe herself as lonely, per se. She was infinitely fascinated by her own thoughts, by her father's behavior, by the world around her. She had been a curious child, and had grown into a curious - bordering on nosy - adult. She was full of questions, and had never exhausted the well of things she wanted to know as a child.

And it was just that there were only so many questions she could ask of her father, of the world that they moved through together, when they traveled. She wondered how much more world there was to see, how many more people might have strange, unusual thoughts that they might be willing to share with her.

Mostly, she focused on herself. She was the immovable object around which everything else in the known universe rotated. But sometimes - just a little bit - she wondered what else - who else - might be out there, waiting to be discovered.

She had never voiced this desire for exploration - for more - to her father. That alone made it unique in Ofelia's life, as she had never before been shy or hesitant about declaring what she wanted (usually at top volume and repeatedly). But this felt like a secret - it felt like something that, once spoken, would force a change upon the world, upon her life. Ofelia just wasn't sure if she was ready for what came after that, sine she knew that her father wouldn't deny her this, the same way he'd never denied her anything before.

So she kept it to herself and tried not to think about it, telling herself that the desire would fade and she would forget with time.

But it didn't, and she couldn't.


((WC: 284))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2025 2:54 pm


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Wink liked being in a herd. He liked having a family. He even had friends, after a fashion - he was still quite shy, quiet, and almost introverted, and he felt like he kept embarrassing himself, but he pushed on, refusing to let himself become stagnant, lonely, and afraid again, especially with so many people around.

Wink liked being in a herd. And he felt like the herd gave him a lot - safety, security, company. Food, shelter. He felt like he should contribute.

But contributing was scary. Speaking up when the herd gathered was difficult; plus, as much as he wanted to help - very badly, he wanted to help - he didn't really know what help was needed, or if he had the skills to provide that help.

So mostly he stayed by the children. The children always needed an extra pair of eyes cast upon them, to keep them in line, to teach them right and wrong. He also found children easier to talk to than adults; there was something so freeing about being a child, so unaware, so unashamed.

For the most part, anyway. There were some children that were different - children more like him, who retreated from the roughhousing and the shouting and the aggressive playing. He tried to spend time with them; as much time as he could spare, so that they would never, ever feel alone. He encouraged them, but never forced them - if they ventured out, he promised that he would always be here waiting for them if they got overwhelmed or afraid.

As Wink watched them learn, play, hurt and heal, he decided he should try to be as brave as the children he looked over. If they could do it, surely so could he, right?


((WC: 291))
PostPosted: Wed Mar 05, 2025 5:11 pm


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Say what you will about Takutai - and people could, and would, and did say a lot - he didn't forget when someone had done him a solid. He prided himself on never letting a debt stand for long, even if sometimes it required creative thinking.

The problem with this, presently, was that no amount of creative thinking could help him divine how to repay a near-stranger. He knew the stallion's name - Koa Ahi - but that was basically the only thing he knew. Well, that and that he was strong, and willing to help strangers who got their tails stuck between big rocks. That was not a lot to go on, when it came to repaying a favor.

In a perfect world, Koa Ahi's tail would also wind up stuck between some rocks (lighter rocks than the ones Taku had gotten stuck in, preferably) and then Taku could rescue him. That would be the only fair thing - balanced. One for one. However, he didn't think he could convince Koa Ahi to get his tail stuck just to make them 'even'.

All the same, this was what led Takutai to the shallows once more, patrolling the shore - just in case Koa wandered past and needed help with something. Taku didn't even know if he lived near this stretch of the beach, but - he hoped so. Otherwise he was just swimming back and forth for no reason like an entire fool.

He'd figure something out. Some way to repay his debt. He had to.


((WC: 250))

Juliette06

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PostPosted: Wed Mar 05, 2025 5:27 pm


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Lavender Violet had spent a lot of time on his own - but not his whole life. Well, on his own except for Bunny and Mothy, of course. But he'd had friends that could talk out loud back to him once upon a time - when he was a kid.

The problem was that as per usual, he'd gotten lost. His friends had gone home for the night and he'd settled down, not sharing that he didn't really have a herd to return to (at least not that he knew the location of anymore), and when he'd awoken and tried to friend his friends again, they were gone. That had started his lifetime of wandering; initially, he'd been looking for his friends, and then he just started looking for anything to entertain him, anyone to spend time with. He'd been semi-successful, but nothing permanent - no long-term friends - had ever come of it.

Maybe he never should never have given up looking for his first friends. Maybe they were still out there, looking for him, too.

That's what Bunny thought. Mothy didn't think so, and as the tie-breaker, LV decided that he would try to find his original hangout spot, with his original, very first friends. Mothy was too new to the group to really know how things worked around here; Bunny had even been there, when LV had met his friends.

Unfortunately, Bunny didn't remember his first friends' names either. He had been really young, and it had been a really long time ago! But he remembered what they looked like...kind of. He could probably find them again.

Probably. Maybe. If he tried really hard.


((WC: 273))
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