Main Account - ToxicCreed
Side Account - Halaphaz
Mom's Account - Pikina
Carry's Account - Carry
Carry's Side Accound - Carry2
Quad's Account - QuadRaptor
Vinttage's Account - Vinyl
Acer's Account - BirdyBoiler
Acer's Side Account - Lullaby
Waning Sun's Account -Sicily
Jinxyness's Account - Jinxyness
WhiteWarlord's Account - Jacklo
11DollarBills' Account - Lemper
SleepyThing's Account - JD
BunnyCorn's Account - Leanna <3
Keyblade's Account - Emily
OrinocoFlow's Account - Jenny
Ammy's Account - Windalope
Ammy's Side Account - Wind
Spider's Account - Spider
Aimery's Account - KarKitty

I have a question for folks out there, and I realize that the answer will be as varied as the person. I poked around for some answers, but didn't really find any answers or ideas.

Bottom line is, I have absolutely no talent with CSS. I know what it is, and I've played with it. If I buckled down (and spent some time on it that is currently coming at a premium or nonexistant), I could probably spit out something that looked halfway decent. Fortunately, my question isn't about CCS, but it is related!

I have noticed that when people make posts about their deer diaries, often they are encapsulated in small CSS made places on the pages specifically made for their deer instead of as a blog entry that might appear under recent posts.

So, here is my question. Combined with the fact I don't have much for CSS coding, how should deer diary entries be handled, particularly for multiple characters? I noticed some of the roleplays are posted separately. Basically, I'm looking for a loose set of guidelines about posting deer stuff without becoming a spam-bot. I'm certain no one wants to read absolutely everything I write as a new post.

One more question... for those of you with multiple characters...? How do you manage them? Separate accounts (which I saw is a tactic used)? What do you use to keep individual characters separate?

He was drawn to the ocean, the thick smell of saltwater filling his nostrils as he found himself on the shore. It was a crystal clear day, the sky above perfect as the tropical air breezed past him, ruffling his fur in the same rhythm that the waves crashed on the shore. He looked around, alone with nothing but seagulls that cawed and squawked at one another.

The deer took his first steps on a wooden pier, his hooves clanking on the wood as he began across. It was exceptionally well built, but old as he could see some damage on the structure. Still, he wanted to be as close to the water as he could, and he went to the edge of the pier. Tails looked to the ocean, and squinting from the reflective sunlight, he caught a glimpse of something.

A rowboat was slowly making its way toward him, guided by the wind though seeming to be moving all on its own. He watched with curiosity, finally calling out, "Hello? Anyone there?". No answer, the boat coming closer and closer until it was before him, gently stopping with a bonk on the barnacle-crusted pier. The wooden boat was empty, but was surprisingly beautiful. There were not many distinctive features of it other than the painted words on the side - 'Esprit du Vent'.

"Must have come from France...", Tails spoke to himself, inspecting the rowboat with curiosity, "But what is it doing here?" He heard voices in the breeze, at first thinking spirits were speaking to him, but now realizing it was the seagulls. No longer were they simply cawing, but now they were speaking one word - "Sail! Sail! Sail! Sail!"

He looked to them with a headtilt, then back to the strange rowboat.

A doe twitched in her sleep, a sense of forboding crawling over her. Nightmares didn't haunt her, but, for some reason, she felt the sneaking feeling of dread. Her heart pulsed under a beautiful light-brown coat, delicate ears flicking nervously.
An owl hooted in the darkness of the night, and the doe woke with a start. She felt confused at her own sneaking sense of dread. She gazed lovingly down at her son, thankful for his comforting presence.
But her son was not present. The doe gave out a call of alarm, scrambling onto her dainty hooves. Her eyes grew round with fear.
"Chital? Chital, where are you?!" the frantic doe cried, her herd rousing around her. Her mate, the leader of the herd, stood worriedly nearby, looking at the distraught doe.
"Gome, what's wrong?" he asked, calmly approaching the doe as she frantically searched under the bushes around their sleeping place. The other nursing does eyes were wide as they nestled their waking young ones close to them, nervously flicking their tails, while the stags paced around the sleeping place, pawing the ground and shaking their mighty antlers to warn off unseen invaders.
"Pivald, Chital is missing!" Gome exclaimed, choking up as she raced around, her heart thudding. She ignored the dark-brown stag leader as he tried to calm her by nuzzling her shoulder. Gome could sense that Pivald was also very nervous for their son, his false signs of comfort ment nothing.
"We'll find him, Gome, he couldn't have gotten far. I'll send out a search party at dawn," he cooed, trying to lead his distraught mate back to her hollow in the ground. Gome choked back a sob and collapsed into her sleeping hollow, nervousness shaking her to the core. What danger had befallen her son? Was it to late?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chital took short, gasping breaths as he tried to calm himself. His dad would find him.

The code I use for Cremello's blog broke for some reason, so I can't use if for my new stag.

Does anyone know where I can get a free code to use?

I looked around and saw some of your guy's(?) poems and writing, so I thought id post my own? Thoughts?

Kelpie with skin cold as the dead,
Kelpie who fills our hearts with dread.

Little black horse who proffers a ride,
Trots along loch-shore, chases the tide.

Pony who tempts weary passerby,
Would be rider, doomed to die...

Foolish traveler mounts the beast,
Dreadful beast whom awaits a feast.

At touch rider adheres to beast....
Dreadful beast who has his feast...

Panicked rider lets out a wail,
tugs and pulls to no avail.

Kelpie gallops to loch, swimming down to its bed...
Rider now drowned, rider now dead.

Now the devil-horse enjoys his prey,
Awaiting the fool of another day...


Tada! If your wondering, Kelpies are Scottish water spirits who do what is said in the poem. Nasty things...Just a quick poem i scribbled down, and i need constructive critisism!

The tawny colored youth jumped from in between the trees, his light hooves not making a sound other than the quietest crunch of the amber leaves that littered the forest floor. His eyes shone excitedly, like glittering obsidian. His ears flapped in the wind as he sped along, chasing a bright blue butterfly in the silence of night.
The fawn didn't realize he left the safety and protection of the older deer of his herd, and he leaped along happily. He didn't notice the change in his surroundings, or the hardened ground turning to marshland. He didn't realize the scent of other deer had faded entirely into watery, muddy scents arising from the waterside.
If it hadn't been for the butterfly spindling upwards into the spire-like treetops, the young fawn would've fallen into the stream right in front of him, its banks steeply falling into the dark, forbidding waters below. The youth didn't realize how close he had come to falling into the deep waters, for he was to busy observing the blue butterfly as it spiraled into the moon.
"Come back, I only want to play!" the little fawn called, rearing up on his spindly hind legs, thinking his voice would travel farther. But the butterfly spindled away, out of the poor fawn's reach.
Disappointed, the young male let his front hooves drop to the marshy ground, making a splashing sound under his hooves.
It was then. he realized, he had wandered far from home.
The fawn froze in place, looking down at the churning river waters. His long ears were straight up in fear, his eyes stretched wide. His little tail flicked around nervously as he backed away from the water, stumbling into an oak tree and falling on his light-brown rump. He looked around wildly, searching for any signs of his herd. But, alas, the mud was unchurned, other than the nervous and frantic fawn's own from moments before.
"Mom! Dad!" he called, looking around wildly.

They once have called him general,
war’s written in his bones.
When he showed up,
the peace just broke,
like bird wings under stones.

This here may be his story though,
no stag dares to remember.
The cruelness, which followed him,
sapped thousand lives to ember.

It was, when autumn reached the trees,
that brothers started fight.
Quarrels, nothing serious
‘til HE gave hate a ride.

The scars were like his favorite coat,
a bull among the stags.
His strength attracted feisty ones,
like him to raise their flags.

War has found the forest now
and stained all meadows red.
The general as figurehead
relentless soldiers led.

His fur itself seemed turned to blood,
an epitaph for Proud.
For ideals, life and nameless troops
whose last breath was a shout.

The final battle soonish came,
the leaders faced each other.
Their antlers dashed, while comrades died,
one after another.

No foe survived the generals rage,
so couldn’t this one too.
But when he triumphantly cried,
a silent wind just blew.

He never got an answer
from the rotting battle field,
the war is past, bad dream by now,
all wounds oblivion healed.

No one still knows the generals fate,
which cached him up back then.
But if you rub a crying stone
you may turn red like him.


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Well, my second poem in english...surely no masterpiece, but doing it was fun. Every constructive criticism is fine, and...I know, the war-theme doesn't really fit in the forest but since there are so many mysterious things in there...why not creating some legends about it?
The more, the better!

Siberas picto grew up, yay!
So, for her set, I've decided on
nightfall pelt, magpie feathers, and the hand mask,
she's near the twin idols, default everything of course.

and that^ picto,

help is loved & appreciated c:
thank you all who helped~

~