Samiakki's Amazing Summer Raffle!
They're found almost everywhere; pairs of short trees, about four feet tall each, growing in odd locations. In between them, table-like structures naturally shaped under their bowers and branches acting as candle holders, though none of the rest of the trees were burned.
It was largely believed the rock spirits were leaving these everywhere. After all, only one of their twin kings at a time had the power to change the seasons on their behalf. Otherwise, their world stood still. Flowers wouldn't bloom or wither, beasts didn't breed or die, and the land was neither dry nor damp - only a period of gloomy stasis persisted.
Twice each cycle, the twin kings battled for control over the earth. King Samhra - the deer-horned with four ears, bearded with oak leaves, of a complexion of wet soil - grew to the height of his power very soon. His brother, King Geimhrea - the caribou-horned with four ears, bearded with a holly bush, of a complexion of fresh snow - would come with spear in hand to down his scythe-wielding twin. Both stood at hundreds of feet tall, but their battle was hardly catastrophic. No, it would shape the fate of the seasons for life to be destroyed; to be created; to be born again, fed, and then killed; that one's body might feed the next generation.
Even as heat rose, winter approached. The battle would commence and the cycle would continue. But maybe there was still time to celebrate the summer before it disappeared. Just maybe, the Summer King would be generous, in exchange for a small token to embolden him before the battle.
The tree-shaped shrine appears before you, displaying a carving of a laughing, bearded man. What token of summer, joy, or creation do you leave upon it?
It was largely believed the rock spirits were leaving these everywhere. After all, only one of their twin kings at a time had the power to change the seasons on their behalf. Otherwise, their world stood still. Flowers wouldn't bloom or wither, beasts didn't breed or die, and the land was neither dry nor damp - only a period of gloomy stasis persisted.
Twice each cycle, the twin kings battled for control over the earth. King Samhra - the deer-horned with four ears, bearded with oak leaves, of a complexion of wet soil - grew to the height of his power very soon. His brother, King Geimhrea - the caribou-horned with four ears, bearded with a holly bush, of a complexion of fresh snow - would come with spear in hand to down his scythe-wielding twin. Both stood at hundreds of feet tall, but their battle was hardly catastrophic. No, it would shape the fate of the seasons for life to be destroyed; to be created; to be born again, fed, and then killed; that one's body might feed the next generation.
Even as heat rose, winter approached. The battle would commence and the cycle would continue. But maybe there was still time to celebrate the summer before it disappeared. Just maybe, the Summer King would be generous, in exchange for a small token to embolden him before the battle.
The tree-shaped shrine appears before you, displaying a carving of a laughing, bearded man. What token of summer, joy, or creation do you leave upon it?
Hello! Hi! I'm back with another seasonal raffle! This time, it's centered around the Summer Solstice! I love the old Celtic folktale of the Oak King and the Holly King (and basically any personification of natural events and elements), so I thought I'd be bringing it back. Not only that, but I thought I'd make the raffle more interactable by including the involvement of one of my original OCs inspired by the Oak King, King Samhra!
I have some very special goodies to give out, just like last time! What kind of goodies, you may ask? Allow me to give some examples!
- Pets!
- Epic Week items!
- Cloaks that give character slots!
- . . . and much more!
I have ten presents to give out this time, half in blue wrapping and half in yellow wrapping. Best of all? Everyone is a guaranteed winner! They're mystery gifts so you won't know what you get!
Blue Presents Left: 0!
Yellow Presents Left: 0!Interested in getting one? The rules are simple! They can be found below.
RULES
1) Use a character to give an offering to King Samhra's shrine; an item that reminds them of summer or memories of creating something. Posts can be as long or as short as you like! User accounts and anonymous characters are NOT allowed and will NOT receive presents.
2) Roll one d10 in your post. If you accidentally roll multiple times, your first roll is the one that counts. Numbers 1 through 5 will get a blue present and numbers 6 through 10 will get a yellow present! If one color is gone, the rest of the other color will be given out to the remaining people.
3) One gift per person! Raffle starts NOW and gifts will be sent out on June 20th. Raffle officially ends either on that day or when I run out of presents to give, thus I will have the thread marked as [Closed].
4) Last rule! While you're welcome to trade away received presents, please do not use this thread to do so. And please do not complain about what you have received from your present box!
Enjoy the raffle and have a beautiful summer!
(P.S. Happy Pride Month!)
Sunflowers were one of her favourites.
Though the prettiest of flowers may prefer to grace the earth during the springtime, it was only during the summer season when the sunflowers decided to stand tall. There was something about them that charmed The Nameless One, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly why. Was it how they always stood to face the sun, basking in its warmth and glow? Or was it their simple beauty?
Perhaps a reason was not yet needed. They loved the flowers, and that was all she needed to know.
Nameless especially loved them in a crown. The sunflower crown she wore along the path to the shrine invoked a chipper, lively feeling in the faerie- moreso than usual. A feeling of bliss. A feeling of joy that only summer could bring.
Finally fluttering to a standstill in front of the shrine, Nameless removed their crown and gently placed it upon the ground, offering it to the Summer King.
The fae loved to give out presents, but usually only to people. Especially ones like Nameless, who typically expected something in return.
That merely begged the question. Why do such a thing? Why make an offering to a shrine instead of offering the crown to a person? Did Nameless want something from King Samhra? Did she have something to gain?
Well, aside from a name, it wasn't like she had anything to lose.
(Your raffles are always a treat, Sam. Thank you so much for doing this! Happy summer and happy Pride Month!
)
Though the prettiest of flowers may prefer to grace the earth during the springtime, it was only during the summer season when the sunflowers decided to stand tall. There was something about them that charmed The Nameless One, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly why. Was it how they always stood to face the sun, basking in its warmth and glow? Or was it their simple beauty?
Perhaps a reason was not yet needed. They loved the flowers, and that was all she needed to know.
Nameless especially loved them in a crown. The sunflower crown she wore along the path to the shrine invoked a chipper, lively feeling in the faerie- moreso than usual. A feeling of bliss. A feeling of joy that only summer could bring.
Finally fluttering to a standstill in front of the shrine, Nameless removed their crown and gently placed it upon the ground, offering it to the Summer King.
The fae loved to give out presents, but usually only to people. Especially ones like Nameless, who typically expected something in return.
That merely begged the question. Why do such a thing? Why make an offering to a shrine instead of offering the crown to a person? Did Nameless want something from King Samhra? Did she have something to gain?
Well, aside from a name, it wasn't like she had anything to lose.
(Your raffles are always a treat, Sam. Thank you so much for doing this! Happy summer and happy Pride Month!
)
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 3.
Another new place... that was fine and normal, so Yuki wasn't too bothered by their somewhat unusual surroundings. After walking through a door in their home and suddenly being transported here, they had spent a short while wandering aimlessly before stumbling across a shrine. The human eyed it curiously, contemplating what kind of offering might be most suitable. Something... summery? Although it appeared no-one was here to see them, Yuki made an exaggerated deep-thinking face, hand on chin as they pondered.
In a burst of sudden motion, they swung their backpack off of their shoulders, keychains clinking as they sat it on the ground and rummaged through the contents. They quickly retrieved their handy-dandy notebook, and a pretty ocean blue pencil crayon, and in their most careful handwriting they began to write.
"Crab crab crab crab crab
Crabs are cool and summery
Happy solstice, crabs!"
Below what they were at least reasonably certain was a haiku, Yuki drew a cartoony little crab; it brandished a bouquet of vibrant pink flowers, the pencil for which they had needed to search their backpack again for. They really needed to reorganize that... the pencil crayons were meant to be in their original packaging. They decided, however, that this was a problem for future-Yuki.
Satisfied with their work, Yuki tore the page from the notebook, set it gently on the shrine, and-
Oh, they had immediately been transported back home. Okay then. Time to text their partner about their latest shenanigans...
((I love the whimsy and appreciate the generosity thank you for doing this!))
In a burst of sudden motion, they swung their backpack off of their shoulders, keychains clinking as they sat it on the ground and rummaged through the contents. They quickly retrieved their handy-dandy notebook, and a pretty ocean blue pencil crayon, and in their most careful handwriting they began to write.
"Crab crab crab crab crab
Crabs are cool and summery
Happy solstice, crabs!"
Below what they were at least reasonably certain was a haiku, Yuki drew a cartoony little crab; it brandished a bouquet of vibrant pink flowers, the pencil for which they had needed to search their backpack again for. They really needed to reorganize that... the pencil crayons were meant to be in their original packaging. They decided, however, that this was a problem for future-Yuki.
Satisfied with their work, Yuki tore the page from the notebook, set it gently on the shrine, and-
Oh, they had immediately been transported back home. Okay then. Time to text their partner about their latest shenanigans...
((I love the whimsy and appreciate the generosity
thank you for doing this!))
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 8.
Note: I almost forgor the dice... dice gods please let me win my favourite colour...
Reynard killed the motor of his bike to roll the last few yards before he slid off his motorcycle.
A dead forest was a nice change of scenery compared to the dead desert he usually serviced, but he wasn't sure what was hiding behind the burned husks of once majestic trees. No wonder his hand never strayed too far away from the holster at his side, and he was always sure to have vision on his beloved dirt bike.
The wind howled through the ashen bark, and made the silence eerie instead of breaking it.
Then, just as his employer had advised: the altar.
It wasn't hard to find. The orange, peaceful light of the candles and the sudden rush of lively green in a dead world stuck out like a surprisingly healthy green thumb in a sea of sore thumbs. Rey stopped, and for a sudden moment he felt a peaceful, almost pious aura.
Finally, he grabbed the package with both hands, before placing it on the altar.
"Foxdust deliveries, I was hired to place this here." he explained quietly to no one in particular as he placed the package on the table.
Suddenly, the stories he heard about this place didn't seem so outlandish anymore.
After a heartbeat, he quickly made the trip to his bike and back.
"We really messed up, huh?" he asked the trees. "Here's to a better future."
With those words he placed a present of his own on the altar. The wooden guitar had seen better days. Duct Tape had been used to fix some of the holes, and there were only three strings left. Still, it had been a dutiful bringer of joy, music, companionship and a last resort weapon. The last job on that list had taken it to its grave: The fang of a giant ant sticking out of the wood, had finally been too much damage for the instrument to ever sound again.
Rey held it for a moment, remembering songs around campfires by night, laughter and dance.
After a few heartbeats, he left the guitar with all its memories behind on the altar and turned around.
The altar felt like the last bastion of a better world, a fertile place full of the promise of regrow. It was nice to rest here for a few moments.
But the moment of solitude and serenity had passed.
Rey knew in his heart he didn't belong here, and so he turned around to return to his bike, and by extension, his death world.
The sound of the motor and the smell of fumes soon faded, leaving only the silence of the eerie wind behind.
(Oh, that is a cool idea for a raffle! I always love opportunities to let my characters loose!)
A dead forest was a nice change of scenery compared to the dead desert he usually serviced, but he wasn't sure what was hiding behind the burned husks of once majestic trees. No wonder his hand never strayed too far away from the holster at his side, and he was always sure to have vision on his beloved dirt bike.
The wind howled through the ashen bark, and made the silence eerie instead of breaking it.
Then, just as his employer had advised: the altar.
It wasn't hard to find. The orange, peaceful light of the candles and the sudden rush of lively green in a dead world stuck out like a surprisingly healthy green thumb in a sea of sore thumbs. Rey stopped, and for a sudden moment he felt a peaceful, almost pious aura.
Finally, he grabbed the package with both hands, before placing it on the altar.
"Foxdust deliveries, I was hired to place this here." he explained quietly to no one in particular as he placed the package on the table.
Suddenly, the stories he heard about this place didn't seem so outlandish anymore.
After a heartbeat, he quickly made the trip to his bike and back.
"We really messed up, huh?" he asked the trees. "Here's to a better future."
With those words he placed a present of his own on the altar. The wooden guitar had seen better days. Duct Tape had been used to fix some of the holes, and there were only three strings left. Still, it had been a dutiful bringer of joy, music, companionship and a last resort weapon. The last job on that list had taken it to its grave: The fang of a giant ant sticking out of the wood, had finally been too much damage for the instrument to ever sound again.
Rey held it for a moment, remembering songs around campfires by night, laughter and dance.
After a few heartbeats, he left the guitar with all its memories behind on the altar and turned around.
The altar felt like the last bastion of a better world, a fertile place full of the promise of regrow. It was nice to rest here for a few moments.
But the moment of solitude and serenity had passed.
Rey knew in his heart he didn't belong here, and so he turned around to return to his bike, and by extension, his death world.
The sound of the motor and the smell of fumes soon faded, leaving only the silence of the eerie wind behind.
(Oh, that is a cool idea for a raffle! I always love opportunities to let my characters loose!)
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 1.
|
Crisp was the breath of the early summer breeze that weaved its way through slender elms and the rough-hided pillars of oak. With the season of sun and blooming grass right on the cusp of its existence, there was still a spring-like nip in the air. It was exactly how Artie liked it. She'd never really had a reason or interest in visiting Earth before. All the tales that floated around the galaxy seemed rather mild compared to what happened elsewhere, and with fuel prizes exploding into heights unknown, crossing the entirety of the Known Universe wasn't something she and her crew were awfully keen about, either. But today was a different day. Rumors had trickled down the grapevine about an ancient altar that granted wishes beyond belief. Artie had always been fiercely against folk talk bullshittery, and.. well, she still was. There was nothing complicated about it: she'd lost a bet. By stroke of mythical misfortune, she'd had the audacity to underestimate how many cheese balls Zero could stack on top of his nose. Sucked to be her. So, here she was. In the middle the Earthly bush, next-door to shit-all nowhere, clenching a strange ivory object in her freckle-tipped hands. It was about the size of a fist and shaped to look like a kuss-fawn: a broad-beaked, six-legged farm animal that her childhood friend'd tended to with his family. Far from home as she was, it obviously held some degree of meaning to her.. but after some considering, Artie'd decided to let her past go. "Right.. probably wonderin' why some stranger-faced lass from way across the galaxy decided to stomp her feet on ye tomb, don'tche, Sam?" Artie spoke, looking to the side as she approached King Samhra's altar. "Pretty much sworn off any of the tree-huggin' shite me ancestors did back on Paylon. Still would without a second thought.. looney shites, the lot of them. Anyway-" Her voice was dreary, withdrawn. Talking about her past always clogged up her brain, even if deep down, she still craved the simplicity of her youth. "Look, A'm not really the one to talk to as far as honorin' nature is concerned. A love machines over all else. More.. steadfast, ye know? A like that. But, aye, A do have my roots in the mud, and A think it's time A start acceptin' that, and made peace with who A used to be." She opened her hands to reveal the ivory idol. "Bassan was the best mate A could've asked for back then. He didn't judge me much for my strange interest in machines. He wasn't bright enough to understand, but he stuck by me durin' those late summer nights on the toxic shores, where our lands bordered on 'em Kiandros weapon factories. Good times. Durin' those days, we knew that we could always run into the forest if any soldiers showed up to shackle us." A gentle smile appeared on her lips. If only she'd never learned what became of him. "When Bassan an' A turned 17, the Crownflower Festival rolled around. We'd always gone together as mates, but that one year, well.. he slipped me a wee secret. On the night of the second day of the festival, when most young lovers would propose to their sweethearts, he gave me this." Though hesitant at first, Artie took a deep breath, and placed the idol on the altar. "We hadn't been on greatest terms since A'd slept with another lad from the village a few months earlier. Now A understood why he'd been so angry about that. He saw me as more than his best friend, and.. A.. A couldn't have it. A took it, and ran away." She clasped her hands together, finally moving her eyes from her feet to the altar, looking at the wooden eyes of the bearded Oak King. "A'd been so focused on workin' on me robots and gadgets, that A hadn't noticed him workin' on this while we spent those late nights at the riverside. Hot breeze in our hair, sweet hay creepin' up our pant legs. All that time, he'd been carvin'." She didn't feel bad about rejecting him, not exactly. To her, their love had only been one of kindred spirits, of troublemakers in on the same game. What she did regret more than anything, though, was never saying bye to him, or giving him closure about anything, ever. Artie was happy with the way that her life was, now, but somewhere deep down, she'd fantasized about bringing her crew to Paylon, just to give that boy a ticket off the planet. Dull as his mind was, he'd been an extraordinary artist, and like her, he didn't belong with those simpletons they called their families. "Last A heard, he'd perished in a rebellion against those same Kiandros colonists. A never thought to say goodbye. A ran away from home an' took me ship to Eyremos a few days after he gave me this. Clung to it all the while, it's seen everythin'." Her time at the University, the incident, her lows in the Poi-dens, her working her way up to buying the Rustbucket and getting the crew together. And now it was time to let it rest. If she hadn't been able to give Bassan that sort of peace, she could at least give it to his memory. "Take.. care of my mate, now won't ye?" she said, her voice soft and smile weak. "He deserves that." The sky was a powdered shade of blue on that crisp afternoon. A budding sun rained goldenrod light down upon the forest, letting its rays be carved into glittering veins by the leaves and curling branches. On the shrine in the old oak tree, the idol stood like a brave young puppy safeguarding its sleeping master. Birdsong bounced off the rustling bushes and scarred tree barks. Artie was gone. |
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 10.
Orna stepped up to the altar and knelt. Her religion was of the Earth and sky, nature and all its beings, its being. Well, more precisely, her religious feelings ran a lot on luck. But that was a sense of belief, wasn't it? And the world always felt as it should be, or at least, most of the time. Somebody was probably keeping up with it, or some cycle was in balance. Regular and strange as the seasons, the world spun round and round, the span of winter, summer, fall, spring, night, day, afternoon - Orna worshiped them all, in her own little way. She was, at least, devoted to loving her every moment in this world.
"For the summer," she said, and felt something within her shine hotly, as she placed a woven basket of berries and leaves next to the trees.
Cicadas and birds trilled song down to the lower world from the trees, at the top, the sound of heat and humidity, the sound of rich red berries in joyous full fruit ripeness. That was what it felt like to her. The sound of hot blue skies and clear air, the sound of heat waves shimmering off the pavement where she loved to skate. The sound of a cool breeze that brought freshness and joy. Happiness, in its ultimate simplicity. Yet, such a marvel and mystery, some god's great plan. The intricacy of godly ethereal background noise, like a great mural or plinth she had seen one time, gods surrounding the world painted and carved, a massive divine backdrop of a linear or circular story. Perhaps just one moment, written out or drawn, forever in time. Something like what she'd looked at in a church, or seen in a book, or in an anime. A pantheon of deities or one singular purpose, no matter, cells in an organism. Which was greater, the things that made things up, or the thing made up of others?
Round and round it would go, eternal small cycles or one massive one. A swinging pendulum or a singular arc, or moment after moment after moments. Movement and stillness. Her wheels on the chalk. Graffiti whooshing by her, leaves in the breeze alongside her, sweat on her back, Orna herself alone in her near-tractionless glide. The world goes on.
"Thank you, bye," she said simply and as meaningfully as she could. She stood up and brushed herself off. She waved. Bowed. Took a last look.
And walked away.
((OOC Thank you for the raffle and roleplay opportunity!))
"For the summer," she said, and felt something within her shine hotly, as she placed a woven basket of berries and leaves next to the trees.
Cicadas and birds trilled song down to the lower world from the trees, at the top, the sound of heat and humidity, the sound of rich red berries in joyous full fruit ripeness. That was what it felt like to her. The sound of hot blue skies and clear air, the sound of heat waves shimmering off the pavement where she loved to skate. The sound of a cool breeze that brought freshness and joy. Happiness, in its ultimate simplicity. Yet, such a marvel and mystery, some god's great plan. The intricacy of godly ethereal background noise, like a great mural or plinth she had seen one time, gods surrounding the world painted and carved, a massive divine backdrop of a linear or circular story. Perhaps just one moment, written out or drawn, forever in time. Something like what she'd looked at in a church, or seen in a book, or in an anime. A pantheon of deities or one singular purpose, no matter, cells in an organism. Which was greater, the things that made things up, or the thing made up of others?
Round and round it would go, eternal small cycles or one massive one. A swinging pendulum or a singular arc, or moment after moment after moments. Movement and stillness. Her wheels on the chalk. Graffiti whooshing by her, leaves in the breeze alongside her, sweat on her back, Orna herself alone in her near-tractionless glide. The world goes on.
"Thank you, bye," she said simply and as meaningfully as she could. She stood up and brushed herself off. She waved. Bowed. Took a last look.
And walked away.
((OOC Thank you for the raffle and roleplay opportunity!))
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 9.
Note: I love you guys' writing!
THANK YOU!!
Thanks, everyone, for your replies, your well wishes, and your creativity! I'm so excited to give you your gifts!
For newcomers: half of the presents are still available! Come leave an offering for the Summer King IC and get a present OOC before they're all gone!
Thanks, everyone, for your replies, your well wishes, and your creativity! I'm so excited to give you your gifts!
For newcomers: half of the presents are still available! Come leave an offering for the Summer King IC and get a present OOC before they're all gone!
Silently standing among the trees, Ophelia gazed at the shrine. In her hair was a flower crown, made of roses and sunflowers. She stepped forward, removing the flower crown from her head. With hesitation, she placed the flower crown into the offering shrine, taking a step back and bowing her head in respect. Worshiping gods wasn't like her, but this was an offering for nature itself. She coveted nature... and so she coveted this shrine, in a way. She flicked her wrist, allowing her magic to fly free for a moment and adorn the surrounding grass with flowers as she made one last bow of respect.
"May you bring peace to us, dear God of Summer."
"May you bring peace to us, dear God of Summer."
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 2.
Note: dice <3
Gabriel stepped up to the shrine and gently placed a photograph of a few students (and himself) at the college he goes to. There was a tall, beautiful young man with blonde hair, and shorter blonde with a nervous look, and then Gabriel himself.
They appeared to be having a lot of fun, dressed in not their blazers, but it seemed to be some sort of sports uniform, perhaps for a game of cricket or something? There was a writing on the back of the photograph that said 'Summer with my friends' on it, followed by the names of the said friends, 'Lambert' and 'Verlegen', and then finally the date saying 1888, 6/1 (June 1st). Which in Gabriel's time, was last year, this month.
They appeared to be having a lot of fun, dressed in not their blazers, but it seemed to be some sort of sports uniform, perhaps for a game of cricket or something? There was a writing on the back of the photograph that said 'Summer with my friends' on it, followed by the names of the said friends, 'Lambert' and 'Verlegen', and then finally the date saying 1888, 6/1 (June 1st). Which in Gabriel's time, was last year, this month.
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 8.
Nayuta gazes upon the sun scorched deserts of her homeland, the Land of Wind. As smile softly as she builds up her chakra, calling for the help of her tailed beast, Shukaku, the Sand Demon and 1 tailed beast, to help her. Sand shifts around her, gathering in her hands as she fuels fire nature chakra into the sand, melting it into glass. After a few quick movements, a beautiful glass ornament is revealed, in the shape of a sun. The color was remincent of sunset orange, with a drop of pure gold in the center. She send it forth as the offering to the King.
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 8.
Note: Hope you like it :3
Amazing!! I am officially out of yellow presents! You know what that means. . .
There are only TWO presents left to win and they are both blue!
To get one, make sure you read the prompt and the rules! Hurry before they're all gone!
Thank you, everyone, who's entered my raffle so far!
There are only TWO presents left to win and they are both blue!
To get one, make sure you read the prompt and the rules! Hurry before they're all gone!
Thank you, everyone, who's entered my raffle so far!
Be it because she was creatively inclined, or becuse gift giving spoke to her generous soul, Cris had found herself strongly intrigued by the idea of leaving a token on the Summer King's shrine. It was simply charming, how the celebration of nature's many wondrous manifestations could take such unique and characteristic traditions. And delving for so long in the aseptic, metal-and-neon world of high society and politics made her yearn for something more genuine and down to Earth (pun intended? Why, absolutely so). A writer of long bygone years had once said that humans nature was not made just of concrete, cars and streetlights; Whenever she escaped off a dreary business meetings to take a much deserved break, Cris couldn't agree more, and it was the natural element she sought - be it park, beach, or even a trip to some foreign land where she could simply enjoy the many hues of life's wondrous manifestations - better if in the company of her family circle, the people who were dearest to her heart.
Today, though, she treaded alone - well, almost. A little whirlwind of synthethic black and white fur buzzed excitedly around her ankles, beady eyes scanning the surroundings with childlike enthusiasm as the animatronic border collie pup inspected the altar, instinctively running in circles around it and her human - because herding was part of her programming as much as barking or wagging her tail. Cris had already had to drag her away from the offerigs on the shrine twice, which Joy would have otherwise inspected the way a curious puppy learns to know the world - through sniffing first and chewing then.
"Quiet, Joy!" the masked vigilante chuckled, lightly pulling the leash a bit closer as Joy's tail-wagging increased its speed. "We'll go play with the frisbee in a minute. In a minute! Now sit."
Innocent button eyes turned to look at her with a canine smile.
"Sit!"
The tail wagged faster. It seemed every order other than "play" was automatically translated, in Joy's positronic brain, as "Play!".
"... I really can't scold you, can I?" Cris half-sighed, half-laughed, bending to pick up the puppy in her arms. And since "Cuddle" was Joy's favorite word (after "Play"), she instantly started licking her owner's fox mask, yipping and barking happily.
It was a nice day, all around.
Trying to not let the hyper-energetic border collie squirm out of her arms, Cris walked closer to the altar and gingerly placed the item she had been carrying in one of her hands, concealed by the long sleeves of her kimono. A delicate construction made of tiny wood splinters, shells, beach pebbles and seed pearls dangling from a circular wood frame, criss-crossed by a spiderweb-like net motif; a little dreamcatcher, handcrafted with skill and dedication.
"Truth to be told, I'm more of a winter person myself", she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But summer has its own kind of charm... all seasons have, and it's unique to each, and it's special." Her eyes behind the mask were soft as she gazed upon the shrine of King Samhra. "All the parts of this dreamcatcher - the pebbles, the wood, the shells - they come from the Brighton beach. Could've picked them anywhere else but... there's a reason I wanted it to be Brighton, y'see."
She let her eyes wander, and seemed to look back through the winds of time and memory, as if the mind _was_ the greatest time travel machine ever created by mankind. In a way, it was true.
"Back when I was expecting my first child... my ex-husband's best friend and former love interest was going through a- highly difficult time. Up until then, me and him had been... acquaintances, but he was far more a part of my ex-husband's life than of mine, and truth to be told, we didn't click together so well. It wasn't until I found him alone and emotionally hurt on the Brighton Pier, and got to see a bit of what was really in his mind... that we could call ourselves friends." Her voice had a touch of wistfulness, as she glanced down at the dreamcatcher. "My ex-husband reached us there, and after that day, I came back to the Brighton beach to collect the materials I needed to make three friendship bracelets.
After a moment's pause - the time needed to take in a wincing breath, as if to hold back the sting of tears - she again reached into the pockets of her kimono, drawing out a single bracelet, with three fox heads - one red, one gray, one white - looking rather worn and time-consumed. "I keep mine to this day... but my ex-husband left his behind when we - parted ways, and some time after, I found a second outside my door." Gifts returned, spurned, tossed away; not for everyone did gifts have a meaning and a soul - maybe that was what made her a little "crazy", after all, compared to most people who saw a gift just as an item, a thing, without any real value beyond, perhaps, the quality of the materials or the purchase price.
She had always been a black sheep in that regard.
"So I... used the pieces that went in those bracelets to make the dreamcatcher", she explained, shrugging off the moment's melancholy, blinking off the glimmer of a tear before it could properly sting. "Figured... something that had _once_ been meaningful could now find a new life as a different kind of gift?"
All in all, it wasn't just parts of an old item, stapled together and rearranged to create something new, that she was offering - but the story behind the item itself, a story of dying affections, and of how heart could heal from the scars of rejection and keep on giving.
Today, though, she treaded alone - well, almost. A little whirlwind of synthethic black and white fur buzzed excitedly around her ankles, beady eyes scanning the surroundings with childlike enthusiasm as the animatronic border collie pup inspected the altar, instinctively running in circles around it and her human - because herding was part of her programming as much as barking or wagging her tail. Cris had already had to drag her away from the offerigs on the shrine twice, which Joy would have otherwise inspected the way a curious puppy learns to know the world - through sniffing first and chewing then.
"Quiet, Joy!" the masked vigilante chuckled, lightly pulling the leash a bit closer as Joy's tail-wagging increased its speed. "We'll go play with the frisbee in a minute. In a minute! Now sit."
Innocent button eyes turned to look at her with a canine smile.
"Sit!"
The tail wagged faster. It seemed every order other than "play" was automatically translated, in Joy's positronic brain, as "Play!".
"... I really can't scold you, can I?" Cris half-sighed, half-laughed, bending to pick up the puppy in her arms. And since "Cuddle" was Joy's favorite word (after "Play"), she instantly started licking her owner's fox mask, yipping and barking happily.
It was a nice day, all around.
Trying to not let the hyper-energetic border collie squirm out of her arms, Cris walked closer to the altar and gingerly placed the item she had been carrying in one of her hands, concealed by the long sleeves of her kimono. A delicate construction made of tiny wood splinters, shells, beach pebbles and seed pearls dangling from a circular wood frame, criss-crossed by a spiderweb-like net motif; a little dreamcatcher, handcrafted with skill and dedication.
"Truth to be told, I'm more of a winter person myself", she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "But summer has its own kind of charm... all seasons have, and it's unique to each, and it's special." Her eyes behind the mask were soft as she gazed upon the shrine of King Samhra. "All the parts of this dreamcatcher - the pebbles, the wood, the shells - they come from the Brighton beach. Could've picked them anywhere else but... there's a reason I wanted it to be Brighton, y'see."
She let her eyes wander, and seemed to look back through the winds of time and memory, as if the mind _was_ the greatest time travel machine ever created by mankind. In a way, it was true.
"Back when I was expecting my first child... my ex-husband's best friend and former love interest was going through a- highly difficult time. Up until then, me and him had been... acquaintances, but he was far more a part of my ex-husband's life than of mine, and truth to be told, we didn't click together so well. It wasn't until I found him alone and emotionally hurt on the Brighton Pier, and got to see a bit of what was really in his mind... that we could call ourselves friends." Her voice had a touch of wistfulness, as she glanced down at the dreamcatcher. "My ex-husband reached us there, and after that day, I came back to the Brighton beach to collect the materials I needed to make three friendship bracelets.
After a moment's pause - the time needed to take in a wincing breath, as if to hold back the sting of tears - she again reached into the pockets of her kimono, drawing out a single bracelet, with three fox heads - one red, one gray, one white - looking rather worn and time-consumed. "I keep mine to this day... but my ex-husband left his behind when we - parted ways, and some time after, I found a second outside my door." Gifts returned, spurned, tossed away; not for everyone did gifts have a meaning and a soul - maybe that was what made her a little "crazy", after all, compared to most people who saw a gift just as an item, a thing, without any real value beyond, perhaps, the quality of the materials or the purchase price.
She had always been a black sheep in that regard.
"So I... used the pieces that went in those bracelets to make the dreamcatcher", she explained, shrugging off the moment's melancholy, blinking off the glimmer of a tear before it could properly sting. "Figured... something that had _once_ been meaningful could now find a new life as a different kind of gift?"
All in all, it wasn't just parts of an old item, stapled together and rearranged to create something new, that she was offering - but the story behind the item itself, a story of dying affections, and of how heart could heal from the scars of rejection and keep on giving.
(Forgot the dice roll sorrryyyyyy)
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 1.
In the tranquil shade of a towering willow tree, Aria, a curious and adventure-loving woman, skipped and twirled with abandon. As the golden rays of the setting sun filtered through the lush foliage, casting an ethereal glow on the verdant landscape, Aria's playful laughter echoed through the serene surroundings. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to a faint glimmer behind the tree. Curiosity ignited within her as she cautiously approached, her tiny fingers trembling slightly. With each step, the glimmer intensified, and to her astonishment, a towering shrine emerged from the shadows.
With a deep breath, Aria stepped behind the tree and into the hallowed sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the gentle flicker of candles cast an otherworldly glow on the walls. A profound sense of awe washed over Aria as she gazed upon the ancient carvings and offerings that adorned the shrine.
What is summer means to you?
Aria had always viewed summer as a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues, each moment a burst of colour. The verdant meadows where she chased fireflies, their tiny lights like fallen stars; the deep blue of the lake where she and her childhood friends would splash and dive, their laughter echoing in the humid air; the fiery orange of the sunset painting the sky as she sat on her porch swing, listening to her grandmother's stories.
This year, however, summer felt different. A chill had settled in her heart, a shadow cast by the impending move. They were leaving the small town, leaving the familiarity of the oak tree, the lake, the porch swing. Leaving her grandmother.
The question, once a gentle breeze, now felt like a storm brewing within her. What did summer mean to her now? Was it just a collection of memories, a faded photograph of a life soon to be left behind?
She closed her eyes, picturing her grandmother’s face, etched with wisdom and laughter. The answer came in a whisper, a gentle melody. It wasn't about the place, but the feeling.
Summer was the feeling of warmth on her skin, the taste of freedom on her tongue, the joy of unburdened days. It was the sound of her grandmother's stories, the soft touch of her hand, the comforting scent of baked cookies.
Summer was about belonging, about the people who made her feel like home.
Opening her eyes, Aria saw a new kaleidoscope of colors, not just of the landscape, but of the emotions that painted her summer. The fear of change was still there, but it was now interwoven with a thread of hope, a promise of new memories.
"Summer," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of the question, "is the warmth of love that never fades, even in the face of change." She smiled, the oak tree a silent witness to her newfound understanding. Summer wasn't just a season, it was a feeling, a feeling she would carry with her, even when the landscape changed. And even though she was leaving, a part of her would always remain under the shade of the oak tree, in the heart of her summer, with the warmth of her grandmother’s love. So, she left the picture of her and her grandmother eating the watermelons and the bracelet which she made together within the summer note as her offering to the summer king.
With a deep breath, Aria stepped behind the tree and into the hallowed sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the gentle flicker of candles cast an otherworldly glow on the walls. A profound sense of awe washed over Aria as she gazed upon the ancient carvings and offerings that adorned the shrine.
What is summer means to you?
Aria had always viewed summer as a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues, each moment a burst of colour. The verdant meadows where she chased fireflies, their tiny lights like fallen stars; the deep blue of the lake where she and her childhood friends would splash and dive, their laughter echoing in the humid air; the fiery orange of the sunset painting the sky as she sat on her porch swing, listening to her grandmother's stories.
This year, however, summer felt different. A chill had settled in her heart, a shadow cast by the impending move. They were leaving the small town, leaving the familiarity of the oak tree, the lake, the porch swing. Leaving her grandmother.
The question, once a gentle breeze, now felt like a storm brewing within her. What did summer mean to her now? Was it just a collection of memories, a faded photograph of a life soon to be left behind?
She closed her eyes, picturing her grandmother’s face, etched with wisdom and laughter. The answer came in a whisper, a gentle melody. It wasn't about the place, but the feeling.
Summer was the feeling of warmth on her skin, the taste of freedom on her tongue, the joy of unburdened days. It was the sound of her grandmother's stories, the soft touch of her hand, the comforting scent of baked cookies.
Summer was about belonging, about the people who made her feel like home.
Opening her eyes, Aria saw a new kaleidoscope of colors, not just of the landscape, but of the emotions that painted her summer. The fear of change was still there, but it was now interwoven with a thread of hope, a promise of new memories.
"Summer," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of the question, "is the warmth of love that never fades, even in the face of change." She smiled, the oak tree a silent witness to her newfound understanding. Summer wasn't just a season, it was a feeling, a feeling she would carry with her, even when the landscape changed. And even though she was leaving, a part of her would always remain under the shade of the oak tree, in the heart of her summer, with the warmth of her grandmother’s love. So, she left the picture of her and her grandmother eating the watermelons and the bracelet which she made together within the summer note as her offering to the summer king.
rolled 1d10 and got a natural 7.
Once the celebrants left their offerings upon each shrine, the moment they glanced away, they were gone. All that remained was the song of cicadas in the air, the tinkle of a bell, and a sense of peace. Perhaps an alien feeling to some celebrants. And perhaps the best of what the Summer King had to bestow upon the celebrants was yet to come.
That concludes the Summer Raffle!
Thank you to EVERYONE who participated! Your gifts will be sent out on June 20th. Keep an eye on your inventory and inbox on that day!
That concludes the Summer Raffle!
Thank you to EVERYONE who participated! Your gifts will be sent out on June 20th. Keep an eye on your inventory and inbox on that day!
All presents have been sent out!
Everyone who entered, check your inbox and inventory! I hope everyone has fun opening their presents!
Thanks so much again for participating in my raffle!
Everyone who entered, check your inbox and inventory! I hope everyone has fun opening their presents!
Thanks so much again for participating in my raffle!
Thank youuuu I'm so happy with my present!!
Your raffles are wonders! And I'll keep saying it! X3
Your raffles are wonders! And I'll keep saying it! X3
Thank you so much!
I love the little jellyfish!
I love the little jellyfish!
AYYY thank you so much, my mate! Really glad with what I got, I love these kinda raffles!
Thanks for the raffle! It was a lot of fun, and I liked all the replies!
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