Samiakki's Amazing Summer Giveaway!
Many walk dangerous paths to be out in the unforgiving wild like this. The road was long and arduous, but you made a promise. Or made a deal. Or lost a bet. For whatever reason, you found yourself in an open field of freshly bloomed foliage, where the sunlight was unrestricted and coated your surface with warmth.
It was the summer solstice – the longest day danced of the year together with night until yielding. The warmth of the rising power of summer had pulled itself up over winter’s cliff and stared it in the eye. The grasp of ice on the land had melted well enough for the pleasant faces of flowers to show themselves. Swaths of them filled the field, painting the land like a sunrise. The star itself was being tugged upwards in the sky, where a hazy orange glow hung overhead.
Opposite to it, viewing his work, a giant earth spirit was seated in a clearing that was created by himself. The pastel ribbons of his antlers fluttered in the same wind that tussled his oak leaves for hair. His elk-like legs were crossed, himself the image of what a human might consider a satyr.
The Light That Gives also took. That was the nature of all beasts. And beasts were his domain, but perhaps he would be visited by something stranger today. He always welcomed new oddities – nature rarely produced sameness in everything. The speckles of every individual petal on a tiger lily, unique and sacred.
He smiles, peering towards the creature – or construct – before him. There’s joy in his eyes, perpetually amused by unspoken mirth. How funny life was.
”Come and sit, watcher,” the Summer King beckoned, voice rumbling the earth with gentleness. At sixty feet tall, he yet posed no threat. ”Thou hast stepped into mine garden for a reason, no? If there is none, allow myself to give thee one. A trade, if thou wouldst have it.
”Relinquish upon me a personal effect that burdens thine growth. Be generous, watcher, for I will help thou grow.” The intense gaze that he had, at once, disappeared, now lighting up into the face of laughter. ”Ahaha! Or dost not! Keep it and speak instead of how thou hast grown in place of mine assistance. It matters little to me. For each way, thou shalt receive a blessing most gracious. So, speak up now! Extend thine hands. They wilt only be met with the bounty of summer.”
It was the summer solstice – the longest day danced of the year together with night until yielding. The warmth of the rising power of summer had pulled itself up over winter’s cliff and stared it in the eye. The grasp of ice on the land had melted well enough for the pleasant faces of flowers to show themselves. Swaths of them filled the field, painting the land like a sunrise. The star itself was being tugged upwards in the sky, where a hazy orange glow hung overhead.
Opposite to it, viewing his work, a giant earth spirit was seated in a clearing that was created by himself. The pastel ribbons of his antlers fluttered in the same wind that tussled his oak leaves for hair. His elk-like legs were crossed, himself the image of what a human might consider a satyr.
The Light That Gives also took. That was the nature of all beasts. And beasts were his domain, but perhaps he would be visited by something stranger today. He always welcomed new oddities – nature rarely produced sameness in everything. The speckles of every individual petal on a tiger lily, unique and sacred.
He smiles, peering towards the creature – or construct – before him. There’s joy in his eyes, perpetually amused by unspoken mirth. How funny life was.
”Come and sit, watcher,” the Summer King beckoned, voice rumbling the earth with gentleness. At sixty feet tall, he yet posed no threat. ”Thou hast stepped into mine garden for a reason, no? If there is none, allow myself to give thee one. A trade, if thou wouldst have it.
”Relinquish upon me a personal effect that burdens thine growth. Be generous, watcher, for I will help thou grow.” The intense gaze that he had, at once, disappeared, now lighting up into the face of laughter. ”Ahaha! Or dost not! Keep it and speak instead of how thou hast grown in place of mine assistance. It matters little to me. For each way, thou shalt receive a blessing most gracious. So, speak up now! Extend thine hands. They wilt only be met with the bounty of summer.”
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Hi! Welcome to the Summer King Samhra’s little (big) patch of posies! This is one of the seasonal raffles/giveaways I host every year, starring the embodiments of summer and winter. . . and your character!
I have a bunch of goodies to share this time around! Some of them have the potential to be very rare. What kind of goodies, you may ask? Allow me to give some examples!
- Pets!
- Cloaks that give character slots!
- An Oil of Epicness!
- . . . and much more!
Presents Left: 9RULES
1) Use a character to give an offering to King Samhra; either an object that impedes their growth or a story of how they’ve grown themselves. 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) One gift per person! Giveaway starts NOW and gifts will be sent out on June 30th. Giveaway officially ends either on that day or when I run out of presents to give, thus I will have the thread marked as [Closed].
3) 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!
Happy Summer Solstice, when it comes on the 20th, and Pride Month!
Silently floating just a few inches off the ground, Leaves’ cloak flutters in the breeze as she gazes up at the being who towers above her little puppet. The expressionless mask shrouds her face as the synthetic being slowly lifts and lowers her head, appraising the Summer King and his words.
Her voice comes gently. “…A weight at my ankles, or a tale of one I have shed before?” Slowly, with an erratic twitch, Leaves glances towards herself. Upon the rough orange fabric of her cloak, sits a few rings of sparsely decorated necklaces. White and black fragments shimmer in the light, the string binding them tightly.
The Great Processor tucks her legs in, lowering down towards the ground – yet without touching it. A quiet, thoughtful hum escapes her. “Living for so long, the troubles that drag behind me are... uncountable? But there is one, one I believe I can – I must – part with.”
A pointed finger gently prods at one of the colorless shards lying upon her cloak. “A hope. A promise?” Leaves pinches the tip of one of the fragments, lifting it up as she stares at it. “This… memocryst holds some of the last known messages from my benefactors. My creators.” The construct's plastic hand grips around the little rock, before resting the other hand over her fist. “…Before they went silent. Long have I been clinging to the hope they would, perhaps, return someday…"
With a moment of consideration, Leaves looks up towards the spirit towering above. “…But that hope has now been gnawing at me far too much. I have been doing little without their instruction... but… my garden has been withering without my hand to guide it.”
As a stray gust of wind blows the fibers of her hair aside, she glances side-to-side at the lush vegetation around them. With what sounds like a sigh, she pulls the shard from her necklace with a little snap. “Take it.” Leaves states firmly as she extends her hand, opening her palm to offer up the memocryst. “I have better things to cherish.”
Her voice comes gently. “…A weight at my ankles, or a tale of one I have shed before?” Slowly, with an erratic twitch, Leaves glances towards herself. Upon the rough orange fabric of her cloak, sits a few rings of sparsely decorated necklaces. White and black fragments shimmer in the light, the string binding them tightly.
The Great Processor tucks her legs in, lowering down towards the ground – yet without touching it. A quiet, thoughtful hum escapes her. “Living for so long, the troubles that drag behind me are... uncountable? But there is one, one I believe I can – I must – part with.”
A pointed finger gently prods at one of the colorless shards lying upon her cloak. “A hope. A promise?” Leaves pinches the tip of one of the fragments, lifting it up as she stares at it. “This… memocryst holds some of the last known messages from my benefactors. My creators.” The construct's plastic hand grips around the little rock, before resting the other hand over her fist. “…Before they went silent. Long have I been clinging to the hope they would, perhaps, return someday…"
With a moment of consideration, Leaves looks up towards the spirit towering above. “…But that hope has now been gnawing at me far too much. I have been doing little without their instruction... but… my garden has been withering without my hand to guide it.”
As a stray gust of wind blows the fibers of her hair aside, she glances side-to-side at the lush vegetation around them. With what sounds like a sigh, she pulls the shard from her necklace with a little snap. “Take it.” Leaves states firmly as she extends her hand, opening her palm to offer up the memocryst. “I have better things to cherish.”
HowNowBrownCow has been entered into the giveaway!
Blessings from the Summer King be upon Leaves!
Blessings from the Summer King be upon Leaves!
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