I'm lucky in the sense that my traveling partner knows more than a few things about musical history, and has a ton fo knowledge about the blues and it's culture that started there, so I've been heavily educated on it in the recent months and I've really grown to love it-- we've even gone to the Stax museum (the old Stax recording studio), which was really interesting and inspiring.

Tl;dr, the blues and it's culture has really really grown on me, and that's exactly what I'd want to feed into Dixie's character design.

I know, I know, technically she's a pony based character but I'd be lying if I didn't say I had three others already and they're some of my funnest OCs to work on. You can check them out here, if you're curious about my dedication to them: Texas, Paprika, and Ginseng (okay, technically Gin is a Kirin, but they recide within the pony realm so it still counts). Needless to say, Dixie would be my 4th and would be just as loved as they are. In fact, I've written a bit of a blurb about her already, and started nitpicking a bit of a treasure chest for her as well!

You can check it out: right here if you'd like!

If not, I'll include another spoiler with the writing blurb under this spoiler just for the ease of having all the things in one place.

Lastly, I've started a sketch of my design concept for her-- I really really really wish I could have polished this up some before applying, but I'll be out of town from Monday until Friday of next week and I have 150 things to do before 5 am on Monday so I'm seriously really sad to say I just don't have the time right now ;___; BUT PRETEND IT'S GLAMOURUS BECAUSE IF I GET HER I WILL WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN. I will -MAKE- it happen. Anyways, Dixie's concept sketch!

Though her sunny disposition and eagerness to please others was not what any pony remembers about lil ol' Dixie. No, as soon as that filly could walk, all who met her would declare-- that one's gotta set'a pipes on her, I'll tell you what! And sure as rain in april, Dixie did have the gift of being able to move others with her voice.

She could make the toughest, hardest, Yak fall to his knees-- or inspire the most loneliest of outcasts feel like they belong. Dixie's gift of song moved many, and gave her the golden opportunity to leave her modest, humble, life behind and move to Canterlot-- where any unicorn, who was anypony, lived. To no surprise of anyone, though, who'd ever talked but a minute to Miss Dixie, she declined without hesitation. Her roots, her soul, rested in the South-- she couldn't leave that behind and expect to be the same pony she always had been.

His TC would consist of a lot of sewing material, like thimbles, needles, cloth, and even pieces of clothes here and there. I would let him be linked to my pets Ludicrous and Deserve, who are a wendigo and demon respectively, and I think he'd be a good fit. c:

I've won the pet spotlight several times, and although I have a good number of incomplete pets, I will get to them eventually, haha. Some of my complete pets include:

• Oblivion
• Voodoo
• Purger
• Lanvin

Thank you for the opportunity to apply for him! And good luck finding all your amazing pets homes! ;u;

Jamie is twelve. He loves playing outside; he loves the rain, the smell of sweetgrass, the feeling of the sun warming the back of his neck. He's a kind, short boy with a round face and smiling eyes.

Jamie is quiet and shy and alone, most days. The kids tease and torment him because his father sometimes comes to school in dirty, gasoline-streaked clothing, and because his own skin is dark -- darker than anyone in his small class of eleven.

He doesn't have many friends.

--

He's walking home from school one rainy day without an umbrella, soaked to the bone; wind and cold rain nip at his face, and muddy fabric chafes against his clammy skin. (Earlier, at school, he'd been pushed down into the mud. The new sweater his mother had knit for him was ruined.)

As he passes an alley, something catches his eye: a cardboard box, forgotten and decaying at the base of a crumbling brick building.

Inside of it, he finds a puppy. She's shivering and sopping wet, but she raises her head and wags her tail feebly.

She looks at him like he is the sun.

He reaches towards her tentatively, his ruined sweater and the cold rain forgotten.

--

Jamie takes the puppy back to his house. The first thing he feeds her is warm stew -- fragrant with chicken and thick broth, taken from the pot his mother had put on for supper.

She's emaciated and skinny, all sharp angles and thin bones. He cares for her and nurses her back to health.

He names her Prim, after the flowers that his mother likes to grow.

--

She's scared, at first, when she looks up into the cold rain and sees Jamie leaning over her. But when gentle eyes find hers and when tentative hands lift her from the broken box, she stills. Leans into his warm sweater, exhausted, and sleeps.

He gives her food and water and wraps her injured leg. It will never heal properly and she will never run as gracefully as her brothers and sisters, but she doesn't mind. The boy reads to her sometimes -- she doesn't understand what he's saying, but the soft lull of his voice is relaxing, and she lies with her head on his lap and listens to him as he cards his fingers, over and over, at the nape of her neck.

They grow older together.

--

Jamie's seventeen when he dons a cap and jacket, splashed with patterns of olive green and brown and tan. He wears brown combat boots and has a pack at his feet that smells of dust and gunpowder.

He kneels down in front of Prim. Threads solemn fingers through the curls at her back.

"Wait for me," he says.

--

In the morning when she wakes, he is gone.

--

One year on and Prim is now six, a little older, maybe a little wiser. A little more tired, if Jamie were still around to press her about it.

Prim doesn't blame him for being gone, though. Life here is barely bearable some days, what with the sound of construction around the neighborhood that is always, always in the air. It's probably her own fault too, for sitting on the porch on all days and at all hours. Past the trees, the sounds of rising infrastructure filter in, bringing with it stray leaves that wander onto the porch on windy days.

--

Three years on and Prim is nine now, still hopeful, still setting her favorite ball down at the base of his bed every night. Her bad leg aches when she sits on the porch for too long. Jamie is nowhere to be found, but Prim doesn't forget. Not the soft press of his face against hers, not the sound of his laugh as he tussles with her in the sweet spring grass, not anything at all if she can help it.

Jamie's mother walks with her most evenings. The routes are never the same without Jamie, though. (Jamie, racing with her, despite her bad leg, across fields of goldenrod and wheat; Jamie, who climbs the orchard trees in summer, and lets fall red, ripe apples that she cannot reach. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.)

Prim sometimes hears Jamie's mother cry at night, but she doesn't really understand why.

--

Six years on and Prim is twelve now, watching the sky darken over a young city. It's that time of the year again when the smell of ozone is always on the air, when the curtains blow inwards all night long.

("Wait for me," he'd said. She'll wait.)

--

Eight years, ten, fourteen.

There had been a boy in the rain, once.

Warm stew, a sweater.

Hands clasped over damp sheets.

Prim thinks she remembers it right.

when he's seventeen, jamie's drafted into the military. he tells her to wait for him, and she does until her dying day.

i chose prim because of the meaning of the primrose flower. the petals are known for their simplicity, but the flower symbolizes youth, gentleness, and nurturing. coming from the latin word, primus, it means first. it's also a symbol of love and brings a meaning of belonging.

jamie, who's tormented and bullied almost all of his life prior to meeting prim, wishes to belong and for a friend. (prim is his first friend, and a simple companion, who brings him happiness, love, and a sense of belonging -- hence the symbolism.) the story's mainly representative of growing up and moving on from firsts, youth, and childhood, no matter how hard it may be to let them go.

feel free to click around my profile or check out the link in my sig to see what i do with my pets/chars. my completed pets are:

• everard
• faust
• aiden
• kari

For her profile, I was thinking of making it where there is a large picture of her in the muck, with a big grin on her face and a bullfrog in her hands. The profile itself would be very simple, with a faded floral background on one-half of the page and a neutral color scheme. Here is a list of some of my pets that have "finished" profiles (stories aren't totally done on all of them) so you can see what I do on my own.
Bridger, PS Winner Dermott Josse, PS Winner Lyxaeh Martie Pax Soulmates Vonn Werner Zachariah

although if I were to put in a word for Emery, he would be a church mouse. Because it just sounds too cute to not be Father Emery to little mice XD

Origin mid-17th century: from French réveillez! ‘wake up!,’ imperative plural of réveiller, based on Latin vigilare ‘keep watch.’

[li]An elusive winged giant that dwells in the deepest part of the Omen Islands. [li]-----Few have seen the creature and those who have describe it to be larger than a house. Many claim it is followed by a rainbow when in-flight thought that could be an exaggeration. [li]-----According to eyewitnesses, the nameless avian has two pairs of wings, the second pair is often tucked under the first giving the illusion it has just one. Its feathers are off-white with a pearly sheen once mistaken for skin. The tail feathers are long and use to whip attackers. When in sunlight, rainbows can been seen circled around the wings and behind the head. [li]It has a habit of singing at dawn and the song can be heard for miles. [li]-----The island inhabitants have named its morning call Reveille because the melody rouses them at dawn. [li]In ancient times, the composer of Reveille was revered as a god-like figure for its colossal size and the fact a rainbow, which is consider to be a divine sign in Omen Islands’ culture, encompass it. Nowadays, it is a myth told to put children to sleep. Foreigners awestruck by the tale sail to the isles hoping to catch a glimpse of it. While hunters just see it as rare game to add to their collection. [li]-----No one has seen the giant since the pirates came then warred with the islanders nor heard its song. Some people assume it died in the crossfire or of old age. No one knows why it is silent. [li]-----The myth goes that Shinwa created it to protect the first generation from foreign invasion, but one day they incited a war with Shengui Guo and it was told not to intervene as their punishment. The survivors blamed their protector for forsaking them when in actuality it didn’t. It responded by flying northwards across the sea into the Sacred Lands where it waited as Shinwa command. Four centuries later, it returned to a humbler generation that welcomed instead of reject it. They prospered where their foolish predecessors didn’t even fending off the pirates that sought for their resources themselves. A day came when their protector was no longer needed. Suddenly it withdrew from their midst and the song they fondly remember.