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Holiday Giftart Cleanup! [Come See if I need Your Ref!]

Alrighty, so. I started doing Holiday Giftart last year, but life ran away with me before I happened to finish. Now, this has been bugging me, because I'm a type that doesn't like to leave a job undone. I do it all the time: I just hate it, and I want to be able to do some giftart this year, and wouldn't be able to with this just hanging over my head. So, here I am!

I have the completed list, the incomplete list... And then I have a list of people with dead links. I figure, if it's a dead link and no one fixes it, I'll be fine to consider it wrapped up when I'm done all the ones I can get refs for. All will be well! But if it's a dead link, but it's because someone changed the name or something, let me know, and I'll fix it up. If you want to take your character off my to-do list, because you don't want the art, also fine. Cool by me.

Don't we all hate leaving things undone?

[center]
Completed Gifts:

1. Ayslin for Sham (requested by toppledturtle)

2. Aini for Ainimalia (requested by toppledturtle)


3. Naiya for Toppledturtle


4. Ferlish for Jennipher


5. Aurora for Calinka (Requested by JackStrauss)


6. Raoghnait for Necrosie (requested by HellsBells)


7.
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Seed's Poetry Corner: An Autumn Passing


An Autumn Passing

Willow leaves, faded brown
and damp from lifted fog,
rustle under belly --
the great grey expanse
of dimming autumn sky,
days like running breaths,
short gasps of light --
I read the course of my absence
from their figures, and hidden
in the silence of a companion's wounds.

This, like autumn, will pass me by.



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[For the Flowers] Community Event Brainstorming

So, I've been scheming for a while about... A little event, and a little storyline related to it. There's a lot of details of implementation I'm a little stuck on: I could see lots of ideas, but not about what people would enjoy most. Any feedback, suggestions, or organizations queries or criticism is appreciated!

The Idea

Since I have some sort of story (I'm looking for characters who'd be useful in it -- anyone who's got a spiritualist or herbalist type, get in touch with me!), I can't give too many details, but the event itself is concerned with propagating flowers. Everyone signed up receives a flower. In order to accomplish the narrative goal, the flowers needs to receive pollen from as many other flowers as it can: like with blueberries, only hybridization will do. This will go on for a decent period, maybe a week or two, to give everyone some chances.
This comes, naturally, from interacting with the other flower-bearers.
The non-narrative goal is simple: meet lots of people and interact with them, hopefully opening up new relationships and awareness.

The Questions
#1: The form of interaction. I'm not sure yet myself if this should be free-form, or if there should be certain encouraged forms of interaction, for more easily identifying if someone is playing this game with you, and generally breaking the ice for shyer players/characters. If so, I think things like flower-sparring or flower-dancing (that is, mixing interactions, either dancing or fighting, with the 'get flowers' button) may be ideal for the occasion, but there could be more or less formalized things. This is one of the big questions.


#2: Identification. Should people engaged in this wear, do, or be something or somewhere specific? I'm a little lukewarm. There'll naturally be a list, but will that be enough for everyone? I can see there might be a need, but that sure feels like a bother.
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Seed's Poetry Corner: Patience

On seeing my dear Sage tonight, I had the chance to reflect on love -- patient love, which must prepare its endurance. Inspired as I am by her presence, it followed naturally.

Patience


I want to capture you in things,
store up the memory of you
like a squirrel hiding nuts
in the ground, soon to freeze.

I want to catch your fur
in the inner-heart red of the poppies,
with their petals soft to brush
against my skin as I run by.

I want to store your laugh
in the song of birds
we'd watch -- the distant
chirp that fades into song.

I want to gorge the air
with the sweetness of your smile,
the defrosting tenderness
of pollen-scented spring, flowers opening, and --


I want, always, like a stone
that catches the sun and radiates
that heat into the cool night,
To keep your love inside my heart.



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Seed's Poetry Corner: Relying on Other Senses

I've gotten a chance to see my dear Sage tonight, when I was starting to worry that might have been my single miracle. In the light of that, I find myself with a faith I do not think will be moved again -- and inspiration to spare.

Relying on Other Senses

I find I must trust:
I chase your elusive figure,
we blend the world into an impressionist blur,
As we run and outstrip wind.

I chase your elusive figure,
as you dart out from my sight,
as you run and outstrip wind:
All ahead of me's lost,

as you dart out from my sight
and leave me chasing the invisible.
All ahead of me's lost,
and I must trust your presence

to keep me chasing the invisible --
trust your hoofbeats and your herbal scent,
and I must trust your presence,
that you'll turn back to see me.

As I trust your hoofbeats and your herbal scent,
we blend the world into an impressionist blur.
That you'll come back to see me:
I find I must trust.



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Seed's Poetry Corner: The Rut 2013 Series (Latest: "The Chase")

The rut has always been a subject of...interest to me, and this is not the first time I've penned poems about the event or its participants. I hope, this year, to keep all my writing in one specific location, for the ease of attracting readers as well as my own organizational aid.
As this is a series, I recommend checking back often for more. Where I can, I'll note specific muses or dedications.

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The Diary of Seed, 9-12-13

[=darkgreen]I found Complex today on the playground rocks, dancing with fawns. After a bit, the fawns dispersed and Complex sat down for a little rest. I watched the birds fly and we caught up on news -- I told her, blushing nervously, about Sage's return. She told me about her plans to enter the rut this year.
Well. That one got my attention. I...I'm not sure how I feel about this. She's my only daughter, my precious girl...While I admit she's certainly old enough for...that kind of attention... I'm not sure, all the same, I want her to be safe, and... Well...There's been things that have happened during this time of year that...aren't safe. Still, I can't stop her. It'd be wrong to.
What I decided on, at least tentatively, is that I'd be watching this year, to keep an eye on those intending to herd her up, to try and sniff out any ill or untoward intentions.
... Still, I felt uneasily. This sort of thing is all alien to me. The movements of does and the warring of stags all songs in a foreign language, graceful and meaningless to me as the splay of stars. I may just be being paranoid, and hurting her chances to make some real friends here, too. I know she doesn't have a lot of company she keeps.


If she understood my paternal worries from my expression, she didn't let on: instead, it was time to up and dance away. Quite a lot of dancing, and quite a lot of 'away,' too. We spent the day on the move:
From the rocks to the pondside, from the pond's shore to a little group, with some deer I have not met; White Veil, one of them was called, but I couldn't catch the other name clearly.
From the group to the idol, from the idol to the tiniest fawn, by the side of a tree, Dimitri. From there to Lats'vel and his companion, whose name I didn't know (they eyed us uneasily, not sure how to respond.
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The Diary of Seed, 9-5-13

[=darkgreen]
The sun-motes dancing thought the air brought with it the warm scent of coming autumn, sweet and heavy with fruit, full of warm colors amid the rising cool. The air was crisp and clean, the ground soft and gentle. Cast in the light of reborn love, the world seemed full of promise and beauty. My flowers, after a bit of summer wilt, have come into an explosion of rapid, showy blossoming. Each flower gradiating into warmer or darker purples, the colors of the petals complex and shifting, the petals big and waxy with a curve like an ocean's swell. They might be a little too extravagant, really... But then again, maybe when we meet next, she'll see them and know herself to be the cause. And a smile will alight on her face like a single butterfly, and I'll not feel silly at all.
I mooned about for a bit, my thoughts on Sage and sighing to myself, concocting little rhymes that never went anywhere, building ideas around Sage, sage, sage in all its wefts and meanings -- could I tie the strong aroma of the plant to the overwhelming beauty of her smile? Could I tie the idea of wisdom to her words, tie her words to the cool green of the leaves?
I'll consider the matter further.

In such a good mood, and cut at ends, I was feeling rather social. I was resolved to just greet the first deer I saw -- it's been a while since I've made a friend. I found a small group of a mini-deer, a stag, and occaisonally a fawn (I can't recall if the fawn was there from the start). When we had begun to play around a bit, we spotted a very small little creature. Like a baby bird, trembling in the cold air, its little wing-stubs folded in tight. I've seen others like her, full-grown, here and there. I suppose you could call them Perytons -- that's the way I tend to think about them, though it's not exactly accurate.
She poked her head out from behind a tree, and backed away at my approach.
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The Diary of Seed, 9-2-13

[=darkgreen]My heart was skewered through when I saw her.

I was just sitting by my favorite sunning spot by the pond, where the river churns into the wider water, curled beneath my friend the willow.
The sun draped aross her mask -- the paint was fresh, and smelled of sweet fruit she'd used to make it. The willow leaves framed her like a halo, like a still-shutter moment as she peeked out from behind a tree. Even though I knew this would occur, I still felt like a star had fallen in front of me, like being struck by lightning from a clear blue sky. I felt the weight of a miracle, something prayed for at the odds of a million to one, hit me then.
I've never been more scared and more happy then to see her there, sudden and impossible, crossing my vision like a cardinal in flight.


I almost decided against it. I almost turned my head, and let myself be content with greetings and I missed you and news and old reminiscing -- I was almost content just to see her again, as I... I never...
I never believed... That I'd see her again. Another lover, vanished into the mist. Another chance lost. Another million moments, never to be repeated -- only to be remembered, endured by my heart for all history. I'd carry her name when only the barest shreds remembered she existed. I was prepared... I never believed...


I'm sorry.
Let me compose myself.


Instead, I asked to speak to her about something important. At first, I danced around it -- I felt I had to tell her all of it. My cowardice, my indecision -- what I'd always felt, and why I'd felt it. Otherwise, telling her, at the... I drove myself through it, my heart pounding.
When she asked me what it is I'd meant to say, I felt silly: I was still running. Still avoiding it. I looked into those bright blue eyes and, at last, I told her what I felt.

I loved her.

I loved her without expecting anything -- I felt sure whatever feelings she could have had died in her absence.
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The Gods Smiled

[Taken from an RP between Honeyfur and myself: a short scene of Seed and Sage's reunion after quite some time.]

A green stag sat under the willow at the mouth of the river, watching the flow of the water. As always, he was pretty much caught in his own head – he didn’t even notice the arrival of a bright scarlet doe until she was almost upon him and snapped a twig underhoof.
Seed turned to see Sage as she emerged from the opposite side of the willow tree. His golden eyes brightened; his heart fluttered, caught on a million different feelings with iridescent wings. It had been perhaps half a year since he had seen her last. Maybe more. And the sight of her was still enough to drive any other thoughts from his head.

"My goodness! It's...Really wonderful to see you again." There was a smile on his face, slightly brittle and nervous – but at least the words that leave his mouth then are warm and sincere.

"And you," she said, the brightest of smiles pulling up the corners of her mouth. "I must apologize for leaving on such a whim, and without a word.." Her voice trailed off slightly, feeling guilty for any worry she might have bestowed upon him. However, she scooted closer, closing any small gaps that were between them. "I missed you, Seed."

His face collapsed into a big, unrestrained smile, completely without the forethought to give it grace. He couldn’t help it, even as his thoughts turned to the weighty matters he left unsaid.
"I missed you, too. I...More than you know." He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, his expression serious. "I thought of you often...And...I realized, and thought it too late, that there was something very important I wished to speak with you about. May we?"

Her heart fluttered at his statement, smile growing slightly in size.
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