zoom_in
- visibility287
posted last year, edited last year
You give me prompts revolving around prizes and trophies and I'm going to think of the character I won in my very first DTA competition. It's just science.
This might be my favorite image of the Spectrum ever, lmao.
Characters:
The Spectrum
More From family_staralternate_emailLuna150See Morearrow_outward
The Chromozerda in the CrystalThe morning of the Spring Ceremony was always filled with energy and excitement. Chromozerdas scurried back and forth with flowers, fungi, feathers, and beautiful stones. The agile, fox-like creatures had fur of all colors - brilliant reds, purples, and every color in-between. Their pointed ears were rabbit-like; yet their feet ended in small hooves. The creatures used the items they carried to make a ring of color around the outside of the grove at the center of their covert. In a nearby den, others used their hooves to crush berries, and flowers, and soft rocks into powders and dyes. It was a vibrant feast of color. Though unknown to most of the world, chromozerdas were responsible for all of the colors in it. The strange animals had almond-shaped skulls that ended in a heart-shaped nose. They had no need for jawlines, as they sustained themselves on the color wavelengths of the objects around them, which they absorbed through their fur. Primary and secondary colors were absorbed and released as tertiary; tertiary colors were broken down and released as primary and secondary. Alpenglow returned to the covert with orange blossoms grasped in her prehensile tail. The dark brown, nutrient rich soil was still clinging to the roots from where she’d ripped them from the ground. She was small, with a dull, dusty lavender coat. The vibrance of a chromozerda’s coat showed their strength and health. Their coats turned dull when they were sick or malnourished. But, Alpen’s had always been dull. All her life, she had been told that was why she was so much smaller than her siblings. She was simply born wrong. Alpenglow placed her flowers in the ring; then shouldered past the vines shielding the entrance of a den. The divining prism sat in the center of the room - a clear, highly reflective crystal that the elders received signs from. Alpen examined her dull, desaturated coat in the crystal’s surface. Long ago, the gods of Rain, Light, and Change banded together to create the chromozerdas - to bless the mortal realm with the gift of color. But, Change - being as flighty and unpredictable as he was - betrayed his sisters and tried to destroy the very species they’d created. They said that Change, having only a coat of grey, black, and white, had grown jealous of his vibrant children. Thankfully, his sisters banished him, saving the spectrums all over the world. Though, it was believed Change was always lurking, ready to poison the spectrums from within, and that he’d mark his subjects with desaturated colors. Alpen’s ears flicked back as her eyes scanned her pale coat, the white splotches on her face, and the dark stripe on her tail. The colors in her coat - the desaturated lights and darks - they were the marks of Change’s influence. She hid her tail behind her legs so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. Having dull, desaturated colors not only was the mark of a frail chromozerda, but an unholy one. She was simply born corrupt. She could see two chromozerdas walking past the den in the crystal’s reflection. They had used chalk to further saturate their fur and wore complimentary colored flowers and feathers. It was a tradition to accentuate one’s best features for ceremonies. Alpen had no “best features,” she would simply have to settle for covering her worst ones. She turned to the purple chalk and began to scoop it with her tail, trying to make herself look presentable. <i>“Alpenglow?”</i> Ruby’s voice rang in her head. As chromozerdas had no mouths, they used telepathy to communicate instead. <i>“Ramalina’s spectrum has arrived.”</i> <i>“Can you help me cover the stripe on my tail?”</i> Alpenglow grimaced. <i>“You know it’s my worst feature…”</i> When she finally looked up at her former mentor, Alpen saw a face she knew all too well. The older chromozerda’s ears were pinned back, with her eyes squinting, and her brows furrowed. It was a look of pity. <i>“Alpenglow… You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”</i> Alpenglow felt her skin turn to ice, her fur standing on end. <i>“Something I’m not? I’m just as pious as everyone else here. I’m just as <b>worthy</b> as everyone else.”</i> <i>“I didn’t mean it like that, Alpen… I just think you shouldn’t have to-”</i> <i><b>“Really?</b> Because it sounds like you don’t want me to <b>look</b> as faithful as I <b>feel.”</b></i> Alpen stood up, determined to stand her ground. <i>“Maybe… maybe my coat is a test from the gods! To shun Change’s mark. Did you ever think of <b>that?!”</b></i> She raised her tail, letting her fur harden into spikes - a chromozerda’s main weapon. <i>“Alpen…”</i> <i>“No! You didn’t! If you just came here to accuse me of blasphemy, then you can leave.”</i> Ruby straightened - her shoulders tall; her tail swept up. She looked as though she was about to give Alpen the lecture of her life. Alpenglow braced herself. Then, the fight seemed to leave Ruby just as it had come. Her shoulders sagged, her tail dropped, and she huffed softly through her nose. She padded out of the den without a word. Alpen dropped her own tail, relaxing her fur. Ruby was dark red, but she was a brilliant, saturated red. And, so long as you were saturated, it didn’t really matter how dark (or light) your coat got. Ruby would never understand what it was like; her experience simply wasn’t the same. She felt horribly sorry, though. Ruby had always been there for her. Maybe she’d overreacted. She made a move to go after her when a new voice rang in her head. “If it isn’t my little raincloud!” Alpen sank down into her coat, feeling grayer than ever. She tried to cover herself with her chalk-coated tail. But, she forced herself to perk her ears - it wouldn’t be right for him to see her sulk. <i>“Lichen!”</i> Lichen bounded towards her. He had a dark teal coat with a brilliant, seafoam green chest. He was gorgeous and confident. He was the son of Ramalina, leader of their neighboring spectrum. And Alpen was his to-be. They were to be bound next spring as mates, uniting their two spectrums. It was a political agreement, of course. But, of all the chromozerdas in Alpen’s spectrum, he had chosen <i>her</i> to be his mate. Nobody seemed to understand why. <i>“Need help putting your chalk on?”</i> Lichen asked, looking her over. <i>“Yes, please,”</i> Alpen sighed, relieved to have some help. Lichen helped her cover the dark stripe under her tail and dusted chalk onto the white splotches on her face, saturating her coat and covering her least desirable features. Once he’d finished, he turned her back towards the prism. <i>“Look at that clear sky! Not a grey cloud in slight!”</i> He wrapped his tail around her back. <i>“Aren’t you beautiful?”</i> Alpenglow examined the saturated purple stranger, who stared back at her with her blue eyes. She wanted so badly to believe that lie. Lichen placed a yellow flower behind her ear. <i>“And look! The sun has come out.”</i> He beckoned her with his tail, tugging her forward. <i>“Come on, darling. The ceremony is starting soon, and you know I have to walk out there with my to-be.”</i> There were nearly a hundred chromozerdas in the grove by the time Alpen and Lichen walked in. She pressed close to his coat - the spectrum was kinder to her when he was around. She saw Ruby in the crowd, but she either didn’t notice Alpen or was ignoring her. Ray and Ramalina, the leaders of their two spectrums, stood on a stump and raised their tails until a silence fell over the crowd. <i>“Thank you all for being here,”</i> Ray began, <i>“the union of our spectrums makes us stronger. Another harsh winter has ended, and, as the plants have provided for us throughout the cold, we must now provide for them.”</i> <i>“Take the energy from the items you’ve gathered and use them to provide energy anew,”</i> Ramalina ordered. As one, the crowd began to pull color from the ring around the grove. The items turned grey as their coats seemed to glow with color. For a moment, the crowd held the energy. Then, together, they released it to the trees and bushes in their covert, which exploded with dark leaves and colorful blossoms. Petals drifted down to the crowd as the trees shook. Alpen stared up at the yellow pollen raining onto her snout. She turned to Lichen, but he’d moved away to speak with others. She caught a glimpse of her tail as she turned. Even under all that chalk, she could still see her dull stripe. She would never be the chromozerda in the crystal… Seasons later, Alpenglow, no, <i>Penelope</i> stood on a dry, overgrown lawn. She had shed her name when her spectrum had cast her out. Lichen hadn’t been enough to raise her social status - in fact, he hadn’t even fought for her. No amount of chalk could change what she was. In some ways she found what had happened to be inevitable. She placed flowers and rocks around a single, scraggly bush behind a house that could desperately use a power wash and a new coat of paint. August, a blonde teen with the worst cowlick anyone had ever seen, sat on his knees beside her, placing colorful marbles in the grass. As a seer, August was one of the few humans in existence that could see chromozerdas as they really were. He’d found her and took her in after her spectrum had cast her out. Most days she tried to forget the spectrum, but the Spring Ceremony had always been special to her. She could never do the whole backyard by herself, but she could certainly do one bush. Having emptied the bag of marbles, August frowned at the ratty-looking shrub. “Won’t it bloom on its own?” Pen bumped August’s thigh with her shoulder. <i>“Of course it will. But, this is more fun. You’ll see.”</i> Penelope trotted over to the sidewalk chalk August has bought from the dollar store earlier that morning, crushing the purple stick beneath her hooves. “Penelope?” Pen turned her head to look at Domanic, who put the flowers he was holding into the pile without breaking eye contact. “What are you doing?” Domanic was a poppet-demon. He had pale yellow fur - nearly white - with black markings, rabbit-like ears, and twin tails. If her spectrum had seen him, he would have been a sign of the apocalypse. Penelope was quiet for a moment. <i>“…Just coloring my fur.”</i> She dabbed up some of the dust with her tail, watching the way the dust was displaced very intently. She could feel Domanic’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t look up. A part of her worried once she explained that Domanic would suddenly realize how dull she was - that he’d care. <i>“It’s a tradition during ceremonies to accentuate your best features.”</i> “Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” With a zipping pop and a flash of light, Domanic teleported out of the yard. Penelope felt her ears slowly lower. She realized she has secretly been hoping for more. For him to say something in protest. Something about him leaving made it worse - it was familiar and the wounds felt so fresh. She turned back to the chalk just as there was a new zipping pop, Domanic appearing right in her face. She tried to stumbled back, but Domanic was tying something around her neck. She craned to look once he let go and found a powder-blue ribbon around her neck. “Your eyes are, by far, your most beautiful feature,” Domanic explained. “…If we’re strictly speaking physically, of course.” Pen didn’t know what to say. She stared at him for a moment; his purple eyes were also bright against his dull coat. She rubbed some of the chalk on her tail down the bridge of his nose. <i>“…Your eyes are your most beautiful feature too.”</i> Domanic shrank back in shock before he closed his eyes, turning his nose to the sky. “Demons don’t have beautiful features. We’re fearsome.” “Well, I don’t know about fearsome, but you’re definitely not beautiful,” August said from across the yard. <i>“Silence Seer!”</i> Domanic snapped, glaring over his shoulder at August. After a moment, his fur flattened and he turned back towards Pen, blowing the chalk dust off her tail. “You don’t need that.” She almost protested. But… then she quietly wiped her tail off in the grass. Scooping the chalk bucket up with her tail, Pen carried it over to the bush. <i>“Okay. Are we ready?”</i> Domanic leaped up onto August’s head to watch as August grumbled in annoyance. Huffing in amusement, Pen turned to the bush. She readied herself into a stance so familiar and stole all the color from the objects piled in front of the bush before shooting it back into the plant. Leaves burst from the branches as red-orange blossoms bloomed all over. It wasn’t a spectacular shower of pollen and petals, but it was a beautiful burst of color in the rundown yard. The boys applauded, causing Pen to turn towards them. She caught her tail out of the corner of her eye as she turned. Somehow, it looked more vibrant than ever - just as it was.trophyheadphonesA New RumorThe door to the antique shop whined on its hinges as Talisminn opened the door. The dusty shop was filled with the sound of whispers. Talisminn’s pointed ears flicked, her pink coat bristled, and her rough blue tail swished as she padded across the floor - she loved a good mystery. She found them at the back of the shop, right near the counter and huddled in together. Casually inspecting the wares of the shelf, she slowly drifted closer to the group. Her ear twitched. “But, didn’t you hear about the Wive’s Tail?!” One of them hissed urgently. “They say it sank off the coast of Allspyne.” “I heard the Razor Wind sank it!” Another replied. “Allspyne?! That’s not far from here!” The third replied in horror. “What if the Razor Wind comes here?! We’re so close to shore!” “What’s the Razor Wind??” A new voice asked. “You haven’t heard?! It’s a pirate ship!” The second voice explained. “Almost no one who encounters it lives to tell the tale. No one even knows the Captain’s name!” Talisminn could hear the floorboards creak as the owner of the voice leaned in. “They just call him the ‘King of Terror.’” The final member of group scoffed. “The King of Terror isn’t real. He <i>and</i> the Razor Wind are just a scary story for pups and kits. You don’t really <i>believe</i> that?” “Oh no! He’s real!” The third voice insisted. “My father’s cousin knows a guy who worked with a guy who had a run-in with the King of Terror himself! Lost a paw! Barely survived!” “I heard he was 6 foot tall at the shoulder, 9 foot from nose to tail-tip, and <i>all</i> muscle.” “Please, <i>no one’s</i> that big.” <i>“I</i> was told he has three rows of teeth! <i>All canines.”</i> <i>“Well, I</i> heard a rolling fog follows his ship <i>everywhere.”</i> Talisminn flicked her ears back. Her long shark tail swished on the dusty floor behind her as she lifted onto two legs to delicately inspect one of the books on a high shelf, a paw resting on one the shelves below to support her weight. “I heard the Captain of the Razor Wind drinks blood.” Talisminn said. She shot a glance back over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes so her sharp lashes stuck out like knives. The gaggle of townsfolk had all frozen to look at her. <i>“Surely not!”</i> The first one shouted. “No, no! I heard that from someone else too!” The second one insisted. Returning all paws to the floor, Talisminn pulled the book from its display. It was a guide to runes, and she found the contents intriguing. She carefully placed the leather backed book on the counter. “Just this, please.” The woman behind the counter flipped through it. “Ah, runes.” She was the owner of the final voice. “Lots of religious travelers believe these things hold cosmic power. Are you a vagabond?” Talisminn smiled cooly. “You could say that.” “Two silver.” Talisminn reached into the bag draped just behind her dorsal fin and dropped the coins on the counter. She made eye contact with the store owner. “I’m sure you’re right - the rumors of the Razor Wind are probably heavily overblown. But… they must come from <i>somewhere.”</i> Her eyes narrowed as she smiled. “Stay safe out there.” Several minutes later, Talisminn was weaving her way through the overgrown woods. She growled each time her fins snagged on a branch. Bodies like hers weren’t meant to tromp through undergrowth. She shook her pink coat out upon reaching the shore. The sun was glistening off the polished planks of the Razor Wind. She was home. Her crew saluted as she reached the top of the gang plank. “Hello men. I assume you had a good day in town.” “Shen and I offloaded a lot from our last plunder!” Shrimpi cried, her whiskers twitching excitedly. “Good.” Reaching into her bags, she tossed a sack of food at Shen. “I trust you bought a new sextant with some of your earnings.” “Yes, Captain.” Shen nodded. “Excellent. The town is talking - apparently they heard about our little ‘run-in’ with the Wive’s Tail.” Her first mate, Flapjack, sighed behind her. “She was a beautiful ship. Shame, really.” Talisminn ignored him. “Pull up anchor and get us moving. I don’t want anyone nervously watching the shore to find us.” Shen saluted silently. She tossed another sack of food at Shrimpi. “Go check on our little ‘stow-away,’ would you darling?” “Aye-aye, Aliss!” Shrimpi saluted as well before pivoting on her heel and bounding across the ship, her shrimp tail dragging behind her tiny body. Aliss turned, thumping Flapjack with her shoulder as she walked past. “Come to my quarters, would you?” Flapjack obediently turned to follow, his dolphin tail swishing against the deck. “Anything for you, Captain.” “There was a lot of whispers amongst the townsfolk today about ‘the King of Terror.’” “Oh, really?” The dolphin-dog asked, his blue tail subtly wagging. “What’d they say?” “They added yet <i>another</i> foot to my height,” Aliss began, walking into her low-ceilinged Captain’s quarters with ease. “I now have <i>three</i> rows of teeth - all canines, of course. Annnnd I helpfully informed them that the captain drinks blood.” Flapjack shot her a look. “What?” Aliss asked. “You can never be too careful. Who knows when I could strike?” Her smile faded. “They still think I’m a man.” “I understand it bothers you, but perhaps you should take it as complimentary - all those stories depicting you as a powerful beast of a man.” Flapjack shrugged offhandedly. “Yeah? Wellll, I <i>don’t.”</i> Aliss rolled her eyes. “It’s insulting everyone hears stories of a terrifying captain and never consider I could be anything other than a <i>man.”</i> “Well, who would they hear it from? The survivors you leave won’t have the confidence to say they were bested by a pink, petite <i>woman.</i> They’d never live it down.” “…You’re absolutely right. <i>They</i> would never say it.” Talisminn straightened her shoulders. “Jackie, darling, you and I are going to spread a <i>new</i> rumor.” Talisminn watched from the corner of her eye as Flapjack tugged a piece of parchment toward himself, quill in his other paw. Aliss smiled, beginning to pace slowly as she spoke. “I will no longer be known as this ‘King of Terror’ as the riffraff has judged me, but rather as the ‘Tyrant <i>Princess</i> of the Southern Seas.’” Her volume dropped, but her voice sharpened. “Let them know <i>exactly</i> what sank those ships - a <i>woman.”</i>trophySimilar ArtworksSee Morearrow_outward