Ever since I made Faris, I've been musing over what to do with the two other pictograms I have registered.

The first question is, should I, in some way, shape, or form, bring one or both of them back (they'd most likely be does), or, if I were to add another chraracter to my roster, should I make a new fawn?

If I brought back one of my other pictos, should I re-give them some fawn-time, or just start them off as adults (not both at once)?

Should I do something like that (add another deer to my 'deer in play') list at all?

((I may end up doing different things as time goes on, of course...))

[=#006400]
This is the season of love, of ever-chasing butterflies and circling stars; of fluttering hearts and starry eyes; it was a rosy-tinted world last night, with the still beauty of the night begining to sneak over us.

I went first, thinking I had little time to do so, not with any purpose: with no friend to greet me, I was free to wander in the rosy tint of dusk before the fireflies came out: I marveled at it, the richness of its color, seeping in as it was into the pale of my legs and belly, into the brown of my antlers. While there, I found a sleeping Lemon among the birch trees, and I sat with her, for a time.

I came back, unexpectedly, later. And there she was, as she was yesterday, part of some tiny miracle in this, the season of tiny miracles. My spunky lady, my goddess, sweet Payton -- my Persephone, oh lovely flower-lady, of hycaninth and poppy and soft dandelion, stolen away by the world, always, but always returning, sooner or later (Though whether I am then, by extension, Demeter or Hades is an excellent question). We ran and skipped and laughed for a while, before she had to take a short break.


I then went and joined Peppa and her father Seth, as well as another fawn and a few other deer: I had to admit, I was charmed by how sociable shy Peppa was being: perhaps it was the security of having her father there that spurred her on, or maybe she is growing, as a fawn must. One of the stranger-deer set to pick a fight -- and I answered him, laughing all the while.


Then we were joined by Payton, and later, even Lemon. It was nice, seeing these deer who I considered part of my family, though odd patterns and extensions, the three most important does in my life and their families, all together, sitting or dancing by the shimmering, crystaline waters of the Crying Idol.

[center]Faris


Age
Vigorous

Gender
Male

Appearance
Faris is a tall, muscular stag: having trained his body throughout his youth, he looks the part of a knight. He wears the kabuki pelt, declaring that the red stripe puts him in mind of a passionate banner, waving in the wind...or something like that. He also wears the secretary bird mask, as it covers his eyes, like the helmet of a knight (he also likes the fringes). A pair of real deer antlers completes his look, which he feels are large, maginficent, and, of course, the perfect weapon for a spar. It is unclear what color his eyes are beneath his mask -- it is suspected they are blue.

Personality
He is obsessed with the ideas and the ideals of knighthood: he is forthright, honest, and brave. He considers himself a protector of fawns and ladies. He has a tendency to come on a little strong towards the ladies, and considers himself to be "looking for a doe whose favor he might wear into battle, and whose honor and beauty he may swear himself to," whatever that means. He enjoys the company of other deer, and considers himself quite social. He can, however, be a little bit impatient.

A little experimental with grammar here: I wrote it yesterday when I was sitting with Walter in the snow.

White on White

white dove fills sky
in flight
crystalline pristine
as the snow
falling away

((Not familiar with Seed's Poetry? You should be! Seed's Poetry Collection))

[=#006400]
Life, at time, becomes disjointed; it is a series of flickering moments, strung together, perhaps, by other moments, and then by darkness; the forest is a series of brief windows in the endlessly black tunnel of sleep. You take it in -- the golden dust mites, rising and falling on the wave-like winds, so subtle we cannot notice them; the often oppalescent dapling of the ground from where the soils and mossess intermingle; the swoop of a falling leaf, suspended in green spring as it plummets to the ground -- and then it is gone, and only the dreams remain.

Today, for example: today a danceline with Lemon scattered like a bomb of birds going off with the coming of a fawn casting the divine pelt; I am running with another stag after Lemon goes, whose pictogram I have seen, but cannot identify. I wrack my brain, trying to remember if I have seen his name, and not just him. All the while, we run seemingly without care, occasionally darting to help another deer get his set together.


The golden stag, Terrant, who I ran with not knowing he did not want to run with me, come close and sniffs me; 21's prescence, perhaps, has made him bold. Or perhaps it was that I learned my lesson, handled him with some caution this time. I am nervous; I bow. We are joined by another. We dance in a square; we sit in a square, and some of us, myself included, fall asleep. I dream of the four of us, watching myself sleep from a distance.

Freeform this time. Written while sitting with Magnet tonight. Diary Entry (hopefully) coming in the morning.

Koi

They are otherworldly dancers,
with long trains and white sleeves
on dresses painted with blossoms of color.
They move like the flight of birds
like the tranquil buzzing of dragonflies
Clustering, they pinch and nibble
at water-born roots and gulp
at crunchy fallen insects.
They dwell in a blue-tinted world,
in the underwater forest of lilypads
and the shadow of the bloom.

Hovering Wings

Mud-hidden stones glimmer ; reeds
gain irradescence. The shimmering
water is hurled back
in on itself. The world
becomes bright and blurred,
full of surreptisious
whispering, of buzz and hum
and the softest flickering.
The world seems to glide
for all the frantic flapping,
when seen through the wings
of a dragonfly.


(( Not familiar with Seed's Poetry? You should be! Seed's Poetry Corner: The Collection ))

[=#A80000]
Of this last month of my existence, there was little to report but endless frustration: as a fawn, it seemed, no stag would consider sparring with me without regret, and no fawn I met had the courage to face one so bold. My patience grew thin; my heart grew weary. It seemed my quest was to be endless, and I would never know the taste of a true battle, without fear or regret lingering on the antlers of my oponent like so much soft velvet.

Until at last I awoke, and found myself well-grown. I rejoiced in my newfound staghood, and ran to find some fellows on the top of the Twin Gods' Hill. One, a stag known as Taiko, broke off, and I raced him down to the Crying Idol, where he vanished. I met a pair of fawns there, and tried to convince them to aid me in my search for a set. One, who seemed fond of me, acquiesed. After a while, Taiko returned and began to help me with my set with the gentlest of humors and an alarmingly long-enduring patience. He was joined by a number of other deer, though he had to go just as I triumphed and was fully clad.

My set then, is this: First, the strongest, largest antlers I could find, to use as my weapons when I charge forth into battle; second, a mask that, ornamented by black fringe, covers my face and protects my eyes; third, a coat the red color of my own passion.

After that, I was joined by the lovely lady Lemon, at which point the core group for the rest of my evening was complete: Lemon, Zerg, and two deer whose names I know not, one a doe and the other a stag. We fell then into revelry, and all manner of merriment, from line-dancing and achieving an almost perfect 'mexican wave,' to listening while spinning, to all forms of running and jumping and hopping.

Yup: it's that day. I got home just in time.

For those of you who don't know Faris (which I assume is most people), his pictogram is here. He likes to think of himself as a knight errant, so don't be afraid if you tries to spar you: it's only sport, and he's had dissapointing luck trying to find an honorable opponent as a fawn. Maybe he'll have better luck as a stag ^^

He'll be running around this evening if you want to say hello.

It hates me.

Sadly, it is the only computer access I will have until friday, and the only one I've had for a little bit, and it is not letting me run TEF normally. Which means you probably won't be hearing a lot from me: I don't like poking around when I'm frustrated.