Winter 2018 Art & Writing Contest

Card is duly remaned. Or re-Qwhilled, as it would be.

Card name: (Your Legacy Name): Thanksgiving 2018 Template
Please ensure your entry is set as transfer, mod, and copy (full perms).

Display Name: A'ri
Legacy Name: Lacy Musketeer
Preferred Pen Name: Lacy Musketeer
Title: A Very Qwhilla Qwhillmas

=Written Works=
Put your story below here:

A Very Qwhilla Qwhillmas

“Mahm!” the child called as she ran into the kitchen. “Mmaahhmmm! Maahhhmmmiiii! Mahm! Grammi and Grampi are here! They gave us chocolate!” The child wrapped herself up in her mother’s fluffy tail, peeking out from the blue fur and smiling. She held her tiny hands up and open. The chocolate, now melted, was smeared all over.
A’ri looked down at her daughter and cringed. The small Qwhilla was covered in sticky sweetness. Her mouth was covered. Her nose and cheeks were brown. She had even managed to get chocolate on her ear tips; that was an amazing feat for one sporting such long ears.
“Oh, Astral. What did you do – roll in it?” A’ri placed the spatula she was using on the counter. The cake would have to wait. A clean child was more important than a perfectly frosted cake.
“Nuh-uh! Rho and I are gunna go to war. Warriors need warpaint!” The child jumped up and down, further entangling herself her mother’s long tail fur. “Which side will you be on? Mine or Rho’s? Grampi’s and Papa are on that side but Grammi is with me! Great Grammi is on my side too!”
A’ri began the task of separating-child-from-tail, an endeavour of which she had recently become an expert. One hair here, oops, wait, that was just a second ago chocolate free. Sigh. Maybe a comb?
“Oh, Astral. Your clothes too?” she groaned as she peeled the fur away. A’ri’s tail was by now as covered in chocolate as her daughter was.
“Yuh-huh! We painted our clan symbols on them!” She turned around to show her mother the front of her shirt, undoing all the work her mother had done and further spreading the candy around.
“Umm. Astral. Please be still.” A’ri was not having fun. “Where’s your dad?”
“He’s outside with Grandaddi and Uncle! They said they were getting the meat ready for the grill! I can’t wait!” Astral counted on her fingers. “They have chicken, beef, pork, insects, veggies…and…and….FISH! I LOVE FISH!” The small Qwhilla began twining around her mother’s legs now. “Fishies fiiiishiiieees fffiiisssshhhieswonderfulfishiesssss la lala la la laaaa!”
A’ri ‘s ears twitched. Suddenly, an idea.
“Sweetie, stop and listen. Go to the door, open it, and call your dad. No. Let ME open the door instead.” The little Qwhilla stopped; having wrapped her mom’s tail as far around them both as it would go. The child was only mid-thigh to her. Thankfully.
The deck door slid open and the child tore herself out of the now-constraining tail and dashed out the door, naturally making sure to drag her chocolate hands across the white refrigerator and oven. Because. Kids. A’ri slumped a bit.

Astral burst onto the patio. “Pappa!” she sang gleefully. “Pappa!Paaaapppaaahhhh! Pappa!” She ran across the tiled patio like a bolt of red, green, blue, and of course brown lightning. Her father looked up first with a smile, happy to hear his offspring’s happy voice. The smile quickly faded to an expression of abject horror. His eyes opened wide, pupils dilated, peering over his rectangular glasses. His perked ears fell. His jaw fell agape. He only had time to say “Oh no” before the mini-tornado named A’ri’Astral engulfed his legs and spread her chocolate covered goodness all over his legs and tail. The plate of raw meat he was holding was lucky enough to be captured by “Grandaddi”s quick hands. The mini-tornado proceeded to tangle herself in her father’s tail, much like she had done her mom’s.
“Hihi, sweetheart,” he greeted his daughter with a somewhat tremulous voice.
“Hhhhiiii Pappa!” sang the child. “Mahmah wants you. I think she needs a baff! She smells all like candy!”
“I likely will too, now,” her dad spoke evenly. He ruffled Astral’s hair, and was rather surprised when he found chocolate on his hand. “Why are you…wait. Nevermind. I already know.” Crim guessed every inch of his legs, conveniently below his knees, were now brown. He could already see the smears in his white tail fur. He inhaled, held it, then exhaled slowly. Removing his glasses with his unchocolated hand, he fired an accusing glared at his brother-in-law.
The other Qwhilla took a step back and raised his hands, palms outwards. “Oh HELL no, bro,” he whispered. “I *know* better.”
Crim then glared at his own “Pappa”, who merely shook his head and smirked.
“GRANDADDI!” The mini-tornado squealed in delight and spun toward her grandfather.
Grandaddy took it like a soldier and stood firm, even patting the girl’s head. He accepted his chocolately fate with grace and decorum.
After finding her grandfather’s reaction slightly unsatifying, Astral turned her sight on “Uncle Dameon”. The uncle visibly paled under his fur, his tail involuntarily puffing. His pupils shrank to pinpoints behind his shades.
“No. NO! Stay back, ye spawn of sugar and cocoa!” He turned and sprinted across the patio, the liquid refreshment he was enjoying all but forgotten on the patio table.
Astral’s peals of laughter followed as the chase began.


“Mom?” A plaintive cry issued forth from the kitchen.
A’lil’I perked her ears. She was painting.
“Mom?”
A’lil’i stowed her paintbrush and peeked into the next room. She gasped. Turning to her daughter-in-law, she said “Y’ara. I think we’ll need some help. Follow me.”
The two qwhillae stepped to the kitchen silently. Before them, A’ri stood still, shoulders slumped, glasses crooked, eyes pleading, and chocolate smeared upon her entire lower half, her tail, and halfway up her arms. Her tail was limp and lying in a pile on the floor. She held her arms out from her sides. She wore a dazed expression.
“Mom…” her voice quivered. “Who gave them chocolate?”
“I think it was your grandparents. They brought in a basket and handed it straightaway to them. Yash’ii and Na’mi got one piece each before yours ran off with it.” Y’ara answered for her mother-in-law as she blinked in disbelief at the kitchen. Brown footprints were tracked from the living room into and through the kitchen and out the sliding doors to the patio. Tiny handprints decorated walls, the fridge, the oven.
A’lil carefully untied her daughter’s apron and removed it. “Let’s get you upstairs, dear. You need a shower and clean clothes.”
All A’ri could do was nod. She offered no resistance as the two lead her around the choco-prints, through the conservatory, and upstairs. Her ears drooped as she exhaled a long, forlorn sigh, finding brown streaks along the stairwell and on the railing.
“No, dear,” A’ri’s mom spoke. “You and your brother were never given sugary snacks and neither of you ever did anything remotely close to this.”
“Hose them down outdoors, please.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks Mom.”

“Ahn Rho’nin!”
The boy knew that tone and that deep, good natured voice. He dropped the video game controller he was holding. He stood bolt upright, eyes straight ahead, ears level and not twitching. Granddad came in to a living room that had this morning been a nice, comfy light coloured and relaxing space. Now it reeked of sweetness and most everything just roughly three feet from the floor had been repainted in various tones of brown. The boy, who once proudly wore white fur with black-to-grey leopard spots, now wore rich milk chocolate on his face, his tail, and somehow all over his ears. There was very little white showing anywhere on his body. His clothings were even decorated with fingerpaint-style designs. His cousin Yashii had claimed the only clean spot in the room, the corner beside the sofa and behind a recliner, and was curled up reading her electronic book, actively ignoring the smaller Qwhilla.
“Boy. What have you gotten yourself into?” The older Qwhilla smiled as he knelt down to Rho’s height. He was proud of his grandchildren. Rho and Astral were unique and intriguing. Each had their own highly distinct personality. As for being twins, their fur differed greatly: Astral’s colouration was swirls and spirals in tones of dark and light blues, with no hint at all of her parents’ markings. Rho could well pass for a mini clone of his father, grandparents, and great grands.
“Great Grammi and Great Grampi gave us treats, Sir.” The boy looked vaguely ashamed, but didn’t move to even lower his eyes. “I’m sorry we ate it all, Sir.”
“Son,” Granddad spoke around a smile. “You’re a kid. It is allowable for kids to be kids. And you aren’t required to stand there and address me as though I’m your admiral.”
“Sir. Yes, Sir!”
Granddad stood and chuckled at the new décor and his grandson. He smiled, recalling when his own children were born and grew to that age. He shook his head thoughtfully.
“Uhhh, Granddad, you forgot to say ‘at ease, soldier’.”
“Well then! Where did you get that military mindset? At ease, soldier!” Granddad spoke
The boy snapped back into his sugar high and smiling, eyes shining, announced “I’ll go find my sister!” He zipped from the room, a trail of little hand- and footprints appeared on the walls and floor in his wake.
With the child no longer in the room, Grandad began working the magic that would remove all the smears and smudges. After a few minutes, A’lil’I came downstairs and lent her assistance.
“Ours used paint and markers,” she said, with a giggle.
Grandad laughed. “Oh I remember, Beloved. It was much more difficult to remove than this.”
Once everything was clean again, they walked together hand–in-chocolate-covered-hand, to the kitchen for clean up detail. They gathered their own parents to help with the rest of the house.


Rho rounded the side of the house just in time to see his sister in rapid pursuit of their uncle. He squealed and joined the chase. Uncle Daemeon turned only long enough to see his persecution was now doubled. The adult Qwhilla , who was at that point merely playing a game, realized with mortal terror that he would soon be covered in sticky sweetness. He would tolerate garlic, but chocolate was his demise. He quickened his pace. This chase would not see its end for a while yet.
None of the individuals involved in the chase noticed Na’mi, perched in the tree nearest the house, whence he watched the activity. He would guide the younger ones to his super secret special spot later, when his dad was effectively winded.


A’ri was finally clean. FINALLY. No more chocolate. Even the smell was gone, having been replaced by the pure and wholesome scent of vanilla. Her tail was smooth and detangled after she and Y’ara’s deft combwork. Y’ara had gotten a bath herself to be sure there was no offending scent of cocoa. Both were now dressed in their nicer clothings – A’ri in black jeans with a red and black pinstripe satin buttoned blouse, her sister-in-law in dark blue jeans and a silky soft violet ruffle shirt. Everyone tended towards their favourite colours this holiday.
The two went downstairs and happily found all the new décor cleaned away. Every room reflected its previous, unchocolated state.
Y’ara happened to peek out the patio door and saw her mate fleeing from her niece and nephew. “Oh no.” She looked at A’ri. “This will not end well for my poor guy. He hates chocolate and anything sweet.”
“Except you, am I right?” A’ri smiled, only to receive a thump on her shoulder. “When are your parents due to arrive?”
“Oh, anytime now. Soon I hope. Maybe Mom has something that will calm your hatchlings down.”
“Would be nice.”
Together, they finished the cake on the counter with a bit of frosting and the flowers A’ri had shaped before the chocolate incident, and place the finished work of art in the refrigerator.

A’ri and Y’ara were done with the kitchen and walked outside, glancing cautiously around for any errant candied child, and joined their respective mates and elder family members at the grill. Y’ara waved at her mate as he fled past, singing to him a sweet “I love youuuu!” after him,
A’ri stood in front of Crim. They would have embraced right there, but A’ri’s dislike of chocolate easily overpowered her desire to be in her mate’s arms. “Go shower,” she said. “We’ll be here tending the meat.”
Crim nodded and with a very brief nosebump, he placed the cooking tools on the table. “I love you, A’ri, even through all this,” he coughed for effect, “decoration.” He laughed as he and his dad went inside to clean up for their females.

After the chocolate males were clean and redressed, Y’ara’s parents flew in.
Raikou and Horin, the Empress and Emperor of Ibexia, disembarked their dragon-driven chariot. They paused to release the dragons from their gear, allowing the friendly beasts some time to rest and join with everyone else. The two imperial guards remained close beside the Kirin and her Ibex mate. Their three kids came into view. They were dressed in their royal finery. The entire Qwhilla family, sans the youngest kids and Uncle Daemeon, met the newcomers with hugs and kisses.
“Mom, Dad,” Y’ara smiled as she embraced both and kissed their cheeks. “I’m so glad to see you!” She hugged each kid in turn and ruffled each one’s hair, then turned to her younger sister, Ashe. She placed her hands on the other’s shoulders and they exchanged smiles and locked eyes in a way that only sisters can. “You all look wonderful! You may want to beware the two qwhillings running around. They were given chocolate.”
Yash’ii had sauntered outside and attached herself firmly to Raikou’s hand and they were chatting in Raikou’s native language. Na’mi had found Horin and was occupying them both by playing with the elder’s goatee and sharing tales of the hunts they had enjoyed together.
Raikou’s eyebrows perked. “I’ve heard tales of what chocolate can do to kids. Insidious creation it is indeed.” She nodded sagely laughed. “My husband loves it, and I eat it as well, but it doesn’t affect us in that manner.”
Horin smiled at his wife and she slipped him a small piece. “We carry it for emergencies,” He chortled.
Daemeon dashed by, stopping for only a second to bow to his mate’s parents. Behind him, Astral and Rho shrieked “HE STOPPED! NOW WE CAN GET HIM!” At that he was off again.
A’ri gave Raikou a pleading look. She understood and opening one of her baskets, she removed two cherry-like fruits.
Suddenly a scream came from around the house. Everyone looked around and upwards in time to see Na’mi dive from his perch, wings wide as he circled and floated to the ground. The adults rounded the house and all saw Uncle Daemeon caught under a net, Na’mi and Rho’s handiwork. Na’mi was removing the net as the two qwhillings sat upon their beloved Uncle so he couldn’t escape. Once the net was gone, Astral and Rho promptly covered him with chocolate.
Daemon lay helpless, sprawled beneath his tiny family members. His arms and legs were at odd angles, his tail was twisted and bent in a manner that looked broken. Rho was holding a toy sword to his back, Astral was shoving Rho away so she could help her Uncle stand up. Daemon feigned a beleaguered expression, but was smiling brightly and chuckling.
“Stop laughing, Uncle Daemeon. You are our prisoner of war!” Rho said loudly and as stoicly as possible. He poked his uncle with his sword for good measure.
Astral bound Daemeon’s hands in front of him. “Now, Uncle, you are our prisoner. I’m trying your hands with this magic al rope. Its invisible and you can’t see it, but its there. You can’t get away.” She stood beside him with her arms crossed and stared intimidatingly at him, which only made her look more adorable.
Uncle Daemeon mirrored his sister’s crooked smile as the whole family watched. He loved these two kids, he loved his own kids, thankfully now older than these two. He led the two children, or rather, let them think they led him, to the gathered family near the grill. He exchanged formal bows with Raikou, Horin, and their entourage in lieu of hugs, because, well, chocolate and royal attire don’t work well together.
“If their highnesses would excuse me, I require a firm de-chocolating. My Love, please come help?” he implored.
Y’ara looked at her nice clothing, then the thought of washing her mate seemed much better than having said clothing on. “Sure, Love. I can always dress again,” she winked at him and they went towards the house.
“Children,” Crim called. “Follow me. You two are getting showered.”
The two qwhillings slumped their shoulders and shuffled their feet, spouting a collective “Aaaawwww we were having fun!”
Daemeon called back at them in a playfully sinister voice “Next time, kids, next time I will get you!”
“Nnnnnoooonnnneeeverrrrr!”

Right then, a shimmering portal opened beside the group. Out stepped a beautifully clad black cat with dragon horns, a much shorter arctic fox, close behind them followed by a silver tabby housecat and a white tigress, all holding hands affectionately.
“Sis!” A’ri cried, quite surprised. “You made it! Teryn, Arcose, great to see you.”
The Qwhilla rushed up to the cat and wrapped her arms tightly around the other. The cat quickly embraced A’ri and Raikou. The other two, Teryn and Arcose, were hugged equally as much bowing and shaking of hands was exchanged.
Crim hugged the cat as well and shook hands the fox, the tabby, and hugged the tigress. “Oscelot! Alahmnat! Teryn! Arcose! I’m so glad you all could make it.”
“I’m so glad we could be here! It’s lovely to see everyone! Even the chocolate children!” Oscelot decorously refrained from hugging them. “Kids, I love you, but clean comes before hugs!” She giggled.
“We were just gunna,” Astral said, pouting.
Rho was standing remarkably still and toying with a red cherry in his hand. “Astral, we haven’t had these ever! Let’s try them. Gramma Raikou gave them to me!” He handed his sister a fruit and together they nibbled them. Finding them quite tasty, they nommed happily.
“Mmfph GOOD!” the kids chimed in unison. “May we have more?”
Raikou shook her head. “At dinner, children.”
The qwhillings nodded and followed their dad.
Crim waved a hand and a singular rainstorm formed some feet away from the group. The kids squee’d and ran under the cloud and bounced around when rain began to fall.
“Handy trick,” Horin whispered at Crim. “You must teach my wife that one. Our own children can get frighteningly filthy.”
“I’ll certainly try,” Crim replied, laughing together with the Ibex over the trials and tribulations of fatherhood.
“Astral, Rho, we put swimsuits on your for a reason. Take off your day clothing so we can wash them.” A’ri took off her own clothing, under which was her own swimsuit, and joined them in the rain. Green tinted mist rose from the ground and collected the remaining chocolate.
Na’mi, ever planning, stripped to his swimtrunks as well and joined in. Yash’ii begrudgingly did the same.
Y’ara, who had peeked out a window, came outside wearing her swimsuit as well and eagerly began dancing in the rain. She loved rain and water.

Daemeon and Crim ushered everyone indoors while the small group played in the rain. The grandparents had all been busy setting the huge dining table and preparing the huge dining room. Unbeknownst to all the children, they has also brought in all the wrapped presents and gifts given by Raikou and Horin and family, those brought by Oscelot, Alahamnat, Teryn, and Arcose, as well as those previously wrapped and hidden by everyone else. Crim’s venerable grandfather had donned his Santa Clause outfit. One corner of the large family room was pilled almost to the ceiling with brightly coloured paper, bows, boxes, several matching plush animals, an electric train set conjoined with an electric racecar set, and other accoutrements of the season.
Everyone seated themselves upon the soft-cushioned chairs of the large round dining table, even the Imperial guards were given leave to relax, remove their armour, and enjoy the visit. The elders brought the plates of food out, as was their wont. Raikou helped in this endeavour, spreading the food she had brought around the table. Oscelot and Teryn placed their own, as did Teryn and Arcose.
A’ri, Y’ara, and ALL the kids, including Raikou and Horin’s, entered the room clean and dry, wearing their best.
Aromas of foods from different cultures filled the house.
Voices and languages from different cultures filled the air.
Warmth and love from all filled hearts and warmed spirits.
After a long dinner would be present-opening.
After present-opening would be conversation, playing, singing, storytelling.

After all, this was Merrymas.

This was Familymas.

This was Santamas.

This was Qwhillmas.

As it would be each year, each generation, forever.



copyright Dec 31, 2018
Lacy Musketeer (Aria Lacy Wolfram)

Qwhilla is the creation and intellectual property of Toki Cure and Racush Cheeky.

All characters are copyright themselves, except in certain situations where they are the intellectual property of their respective creators.


Any artwork?: n


=Art Works=
Paste link to your art here or drop your uploaded picture in here.


Do you have anything you wish to say or have known about your piece.

Needs Title
Maxaxxle Starsmith
cursed_steve@exe.darkwebToday at 12:39 PM
The learner stared intently at the gadget on the table. Somewhere, there was a mistake. They just had to find it. A question floated through the air like a cloud of smoke. “...How do you know what’s wrong?”
The learner reclined in their chair, and the chair reclined with them. “Somewhere between knowing and not knowing is, uh, guessing. I guess. It’s my very best estimate.”
“Worthless, like all the rest.” The insult slowly buried itself under the learner’s skin.
The learner bristled and turned to face their interrogator. It was the novice, their former rival.
The learner readied their most mocking tone. “Yeah, and you know that...how, exactly?”
The novice shrugged. “Experience teaches much. You will know this, soon enough.” It was a simple statement, irrefutable, but it still burned. The learner said nothing. The novice turned their attention to the gadget. “Inscrutable. But not to me,” the novice boasted. The gadget twisted and turned in their hands. They recovered a damaged part and replaced it. They cleaned dirty contacts with a dry brush, then a wet brush, then a dry brush again. They set the gadget on the table with a flourish and turned it on, yielding no result. The novice muttered foul words to themselves. They found it impossible that such a thing could be, and thus tore the machine down to its bare bones, searching for an answer. Eventually, they gave up and sat down. “...Cancerous thing. I suggest you purge it from the records.”
“No.”
“‘No’?”
“Yes, ‘no’. I intend to find its issue and fix it. I just can’t feel what’s wrong with it.”
The novice gave the learner a blank look. “‘Feel’. ‘Feel’ can only tell you so much, but of course, I think we both know what you’re talking about. You’re still the same superstitious moron I left you as when I was transferred.”
“And you’re a nonbeliever, a fool who sees with their eyes and not their soul.”
The novice almost cracked a smile, but instead frowned. “There isn’t a thing I can say to convince you otherwise, is there...”
“I mean, there’s something wrong with it! Something! Somewhere! It just needs to be found, rather than giving up when conventional logic gives up,” the learner protested.
The novice quietly swore to themselves. “Alright, I’ll give you that much. Maybe it isn’t just cursed or ruined or anything, maybe it’s just something weird and illogical that we wouldn’t think of. So what might it be, then? Answers to be found, but where?”
“...In its feel, in the way it works and the way it gives feedback. You do this to augment your normal abilities.” The learner attempted to turn the gadget back on, but nothing happened. They searched every crevice and found nothing. “Nothing, nothing, nothing,” the learner remarked.
The learner and the apprentice sat in silence for a moment. The learner spoke up first: “Maybe we haven’t got enough power, enough raw conviction, to think or to know we can fix it.”
The novice scoffed. “You want to believe in that, believe if you want. But I’m gonna stick with what makes sense, and what makes sense is that this device is...well, less than functional. Though, it does bother me that I don’t know what…” The novice trailed off. “Wait. I see it, I feel it. Do you feel it too?”
“Hm?”
“I feel it. It ‘feels’ wrong. Like a scream by a voiceless person. Like suffocation. I know this...somehow. It’s not getting enough voltage from the power supply circuit to the main board.” The novice tore into the gadget and checked the power supply circuit. “...Look at that. This trace is totally lifted, of course it’s not getting enough power!”
The learner gave the novice a look. “...Did you really just?”
“I think I did. But listen, we need to be sure about this. We can’t just guess that the lifted trace is the root cause, that it’s the only root cause.”
“True. Let’s get down to business. Pliers?”
The two swiftly replaced the power supply circuit and turned the rebuilt gadget back on.
“It’s...happy,” the novice blankly remarked.