x3 I'll laugh if you misread the title, hehe. But really, this is funky...

Alright. Well. I've learned a few new things about my glitch:

Transformation Spells
--- If I sit in a mushroom circle, and cast the spell on a deer I see...and the deer is still there, OR a deer that is actually there is near me and within casting distance...the spell will cast o_o;
--- Transformation spells seem to work on me, though I cannot see them.
--- If I devout whilst I'm seen as transformed (though i see myself as normal), you can't see my devoutness. x3

Other spells
--- Ineffective.

Strange.

Very, very strange. Anyone think this might help in the search for my glitch's cure?

Feel free to yell at me for joining the bandwagon, it's fine x3

---

I'm bored, like everyone else. Does anyone have any questions for me or any of my deer? Ask as much as you want, and anything you want :3

PSST. NO. LIMIT. Why ask only 3? x3

Whisper to me that the world is ending
I'll whisper back, "Who cast the decay...?"
For I am curious, and I know I'll accept
All that's to come and all that's today
I'd rather the truth than a sweet-honeyed lie
To live as a fool, no; to know and to die
So tarot me out or blunt me of the speech
I would take crucifix words to soft preach...

---

Not easy to write a poem when you have a horrible cold x_x But I like writing poetry, and I prefer typing to writing...

*blinks*

Hello again. *looks down, blinks, teeth quiver*

*looks towards the trees* Master creature has allowed me speak. As to satisfy my heart, may I speak?

*tilts his head slightly, and speaks poetically*

Midnight blue
To Queen's night out
For you, love
I am devout

My reasons, vary
My answers draw thin
No matter decision
I lack will to win

Is it to spread
Like virus of flea
Is it to shout out my pulse
Like marquee

When does the drumbeat
Come to an end
And when with my true self
Might I become friend

But the world keeps twisting
I seem to lose track
Of why to love her
And why to love back

There.

I have spoken my words, cold and thoughtful as they may be. Might the cold wind chill me to bone under the sunlight burning me. May my instincts sewn into me take over or remain as who I am.

For I know now if I am truly me, or if I am what I believe myself to now be.

My father is dead. My mother was was, never will be, unless I close my eyes, and she's there. But in all honesty, she's really not, she's a mortal like any other.

I never knew my grandfather.

Or...I never did.

Do I...?

Hey. Wow. Long time, no see, forest. *grins* I rarely get to be in the forest, but it's nice when it happens. The summery breeze against my fur, the sun shining down upon me. I just lie there, happy as a fluffball on Tuesdays. Hey, wait, it IS Tuesday. Pretty ironic, huh?

Anyways, my name's Pingüino, nice to meetcha. You can call me Pay if you want. *tilts his head and grins* I've been around for a while, but I haven't really spoken much. Just thought I'd prove I'm still alive.

Well, nice to meet you all, I hope to meet you in the forest one day. Seeya! *smiles and winks*

---

...ever have a time when you've felt more like one of your deer than the others? Well...I feel like Pingüino right now, heh. He's that 6th deer I have, the mistake. He's my regular stag, with regular stag activities and thoughts. Basically, I'm feeling content, average, and...yep :3 So...yeah.

If anyone wants to chat with him, feel free. I'm bored out of my mind 8D

(i won't tell anyone his pictogram/set yet, but just due to his name...his set would be obvious if you ever saw it, heh)

Pingüino is the Spanish word for penguin. The ü means you pronounce the u, when normally, in Spanish, you would probably ignore the u. You can type it by pressing Alt+0252 (don't press +, it just means you press down alt, type 0252, and let go of alt). Pay's probably an easier name for you to type

Long dream. The just of it: While busy with something else on Wajas dealing with buying pretty ones...

...I was connected on TEF. The landscape was different, like evening, but a yellowy-blue evening, maybe reddish or orange-ish. The sky was slightly starry, but not fully.

The forest was large and more dense, the birch forest mainly. I saw alot of deer with a strange pictogram. When I turned into a fawn, so did others. There was a strange deer with an armadillo pelt near me. When I was a stag, they were as well.

I ran around a bit, running on the edge around the side of a mountain area, under the stars, at one point. I turned into a butterfly in a beautiful transformation sequence. I grew wings and slowly sat down as the rest of my body turned a crystalline periwinkle, my head twinkling and turning black, antennae growing, until I turned into a beautiful crystal blue butterfly that spread twinkles as I flew. (should i suggest this transformation? i loved the transformation sequence...it looked like my deer was sitting back up from a rotfl, and changing, then shrinking, then whee)

There was a large fountain, surrounded by many, many deer, and a ditch/mote around the sides. It wasn't a deep ditch, and many deer slept around it or in it. There were decorative grey stones all around, and green grass. The fountain, with crystalline water but a worn-out silvern coloration and form, kind-of slowly leaked the water, but it could still be heard like the tears of the Crying Idol. Deer sat on and in the three platforms of the large fountain (about the width of the oak). There was a cobblestone path encircling the fountain. A large, twinkling sun ray shown down upon the land (although it was night...maybe a light? x3). It was surrounded by a dense forest with a barely seen strarry sky. (is it worth suggesting?)

My land...my forest...my autonomy
A displayed aversion for all to see
Belittle me to but my curse
Bequeathed unto me like an endless thirst

Bizarre, I seem;; yes, it is true
That I am not so blithe as you
So to the heavens, I scream bombastic
Words...to buffoons, sound fantastic
Birds flutter from their caches, screaming
Of the nightmares heard when dreaming

Lo siento, I'll hush;; no need to scoff.

...

Italics is poem, non-italics is just her speaking normal.

I hid my first 10 vocabulary words in the poem I'm amazed I was able to put them all into my poem, and have them make sense. Except that buffoon was a pain to word in.

Yes.

I was bored.

Very. Very bored.

As my treads slowed, I was very soon to notice that I was unfollowed, that none desired to tread behind me. So be it...Anzel thought, tongue lapping at the bitter puddle waters flowing into an indent in the earth.

None follow me. Not a single fae-stag, or stag, as so chosen by the bearing of antlers (and consequently, making them feel that they are strong and masculine; not realizing that we are genderless, and cannot have intercourse)...would ever walk behind me. Only would they follow me as entertainment. The ghost fae walks alone.

As the waters of the freshwater stream meet with ocean tides, so do I flow into troubling waters at the river delta. One might not clash only if one wanders a time upstream.

And so I shall, for only is my mind able to be spoken con* after departing that which troubles it.

I wonder if the kind stag-chosen remembers me, she speaks aloud, under her breath. She stares down at the pond at her face, flawed in only ways that the seer can ever see. If only time would speak...

* con = with (in spanish, pronounced "cone")

Windows open and close
As in maw, is held, a rose
Clever sparrows light the way
For Walker, Dreams, to step a-doze

Wintertime brings fae and stag
Oldentimers, brute and hag
Beautiful as antique snow
Close together, fur a-sag

Creatures native not to here
Blend-in, harmlessly as deer
Voice in whistle, opera, sing
Only for attentive hear

Past the wound, the scarren garden
Lady, please, I beg your pardon;
But a fawn can hold no memoir
Of the fae, in frost, to harden

Curious to mend and play
From forest fog to forest day
The few, the wise, the foxen stags
Carve the way; they clear the way

Some are wise and some are fools
Some lack morals; some have rules
Some hate change and some evolve
Some worship; others, ghouls

Threaden spools will run out soon
Unless respun with gentle tune
But if so snipped, a new knot may
Not thread the eye of silver rune

Sunbound lovers; sunless bucks;
Choice is given; no good lucks
For the freedom, we give sanity
And lie amongst the sightless ducks

Persistence clangs against her heart;
The loves that steal pulse, depart;
Realized and so aware
Acknowledge to the source of art

Eyes cold, dusken black; afar
To clash as salt and fresh at scar
Will force one over; other near
So is the way that atoms are

Pictograms just spread for me, I'm near the Idols, and I see a deer with Vein's set. Hehe.

x3 Ah well, heh. I'm just curious who it is. Of course, I see Jendeer's and Ephra's pictograms, but not this deer.

(p.s. i think that michael's server update did kinda improve the server, i've had an easier time getting the pictograms to spread recently)