Welcome to Gaia! ::

Username: Revel1984

Main image:

Additional Image links (optional): Without Shadows

Story mask is trying to tell: Once upon a time there was a wise and kindly Unicorn, she had a wonderful mate and although they weren't a part of a herd, they were happy together. However the couple were unable to have foals. Neither knew the real cause and each suspected themselves rather than accuse the other. One day the mare couldn't hold in her sadness any longer and confessed it to the male, who in turn confessed his own despair. They agreed to try and find a cure for their inability to bear children and travelled all over the land in search of shamans and mystics, including any other spiritual practitioners that they could. None had an answer except for one. They had been told of a witch who could grant wishes but that those wishes came with a price, neither the mare or the stallion felt that they had any other option left and so, they visited her.

Upon arrival at the witch's home both unicorns shuddered at the sight, there were shadows that seemed to creep across the ground towards them both, the looked up and saw the witch, the shadows seeming to emanate from her. Both unicorns blinked hard and shook their heads and the shadows were gone. The witch told them that she knew of their wish and that she was willing to grant it. The mare looked at her mate and shook her head, her eyes expressing all of her concern and uncertainty about this witch but the stallion just nuzzled her and told her that this was their only chance. The witch smiled and told them the spell they needed to perform for the ritual, she also gave them a potion that they had to drink before they tried for children again. This the mare and stallion did and were even more shocked that the witch asked for no payment and so they performed the rites and drank the potion then left the witch's home.

Months later the mare was very heavy with foal, due almost any day and the stallion kept a close eye on her until the time came she wandered away for a few days. When she returned she brought along a tiny, yet strong colt foal. The stallion stared confused because instead of his coat being golden like his parents, it was inky black with a shining silver horn and eyes. Neither mare or stallion could understand this at first but then the mare mentioned the 'price' and she told her mate that the price had maybe been that their foal was completely different in color than the parents and that maybe the witch had been kindly but misunderstood.

Time passed and the colt grew strong, if the parents noticed his tendency to talk to himself when he thought he was alone, they didn't speak of it, or when the colt seemed to see things, with his strange completely silver, glowing eyes, that they could not, they ignored it, happy to have a child of their own. As the colt grew into a young stallion he wandered off more and more and was often found deep in shadowy places, talking to himself. His parents were vexed now because he ignored them often, even to the point he was rude and called them by their names rather than mother or father.

One particularly dark and moonless night the colt, now a full grown stallion but still travelling with the couple, was talking to himself and his words were strange and reeked of spells and incantations, the mare, who was now pregnant a second time but only just beginning to show it, was woken by the mutterings and confronted her son. He turned on her, piercing her throat with his horn, his strange eyes seemed to glow brighter as did his horn, his mouth, which for all this time had been expressionless, turned up into a smile as he looked upon the gurgling form on the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to soundless voices and then nodded. He turned his back on his dying mother, who's wound he could have healed with his horn, and vanished into the night. The stallion, returning from grazing saw the now lifeless body of his dear mate, there he stayed until he succumbed to his despair, driving the horn of his mate into his own chest. There both lay until discovered by a band of travelling natives who buried the two obviously loyal pair together.

Far away from this scene, for he had travelled through the night with no rest, was the young stallion, his eyes seeming to blaze with their unearthly light. He came upon the witch's home, she was old and dying, the shadows that seemed to gather around her were weak and few but she smiled and greeted the stallion almost warmly. There she began training him in the shadows, teaching him what he needed to know. This went on for months before the witch deemed him ready, performing one last ritual the witch bound the shadows to the stallion, they wrapped around him caressing him almost lovingly until he spoke to them. They seemed to retreat a little but one caressed itself around his horn. The witch smiled, her body seeming more withered by the second. "A unicorn of shadows, my greatest creation" she laughed. She had turned one of the noblest of creatures into a twisted thing, a mind warped into enjoying cruelty where it should abhor it. From that day forward 'The Shadow Unicorn' became something that mares told their foals to quieten them in the night, he became a thing feared and loathed by his own kind yet not accepted by those of the dark either, Kalona and other such denizens of evil shunning him for his bright silver eyes and horn.

Additional info (optional): This is my own story, involving the origins of an OC of mine, The Shadow Master, with alterations to fit Soquili.

Username: dolphingurl

Main image:

Additional Image links (optional):

Story mask is trying to tell:
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who came to the soquili lands from a far away eastern land. She came on behalf of her parents to establish good relations between her lands and here. This mask is that of her loyal subject and protector, a stallion who accompanied her to the soquili lands and vowed to her parents to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe on her journey to these strange lands. During their journey they fell in love and decided they would stay in the soquili lands and start a family of their own.
The princess' parents got worried when their daughter did not return. They sent someone to go retrieve her and when they found her she told them she did not want to go back. The one who was sent to get her thought she must have been brainwashed by the one who accompanied her (who wouldn't want to go back to being a princess)and took her back during the middle of the night. When her love woke up and found her gone, he vowed to find her if it was the last thing he did. He fashioned this mask to diguise himself so he could sneak back into their kingdom in order to find his love so they could return to start the family they dreamed of.

Additional info (optional):

VOIDING MY ENTRY AS I WON ANOTHER GAME!

Username: Looneytaz82

Main image:
(IMAGE LINKS TO LARGER VERSION)

Additional Image links (optional):

Story mask is trying to tell:
One breezy night, a young prince wandered into the lands of Soquili. He was alone, both physically and mentally, but looking for answers to his youth. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, and his mask, which was sacred to him. He kept it to hide himself from the others. He didn't want his true self to be seen, but the mask meant much more to him. It was an everyday reminder of his father, whom he had last seen as a young boy.

The intricate painting of the mask, along with the antlers of a white-tailed dear reminded him that everything was going to be ok. The young prince had to be reminded quite frequently, and usually he was reminded by the sight of a white tailed-dear whenever he was unsure.

The grey handle depicts his inner feelings, most of which are simply grey feelings. The sorrow and guilt which are grey to him. The teardrop, which runs down the handle a bit, signifies the sadness that he keeps inside. He occasionally lets that one teardrop fall, but usually hides the pain.

The green ouroboros signifies not only the everlasting struggle that the prince constantly faces, while the eyes, which are painted on a see-through screen, depict his constant look above for answers and direction.

The prince does not know that soon he will find even more meanings to these parts of the mask, but to him at this stage, its his strength to hide, yet also his strength to continue moving forward.

Additional info (optional): The mask and story is based of my personal struggles with the suicide of my father 21 years ago this February. Parts of the story, such as the White-tailed dear are true repesentations of my life. 90% of the time when I am down, or just thinking about my father, I will see a white-tailed deer standing along side the road, even at 4 in the afternoon on my wedding day 2 years ago.

The story and mask are dedicated to my father.

EDIT: Won The Crossing of the Pestered Troll's Bridge Usdia so no longer eligible to win a soq.

Username: FitzRoyal

Main image:

Additional Image links (optional):N/A

Story mask is trying to tell:Loosely based on Tarzan

It was a dark and stormy night when the Lady Aubrey Whitefoot gave birth to the foals. Twin colts, but not identical. One was an ivory champagne, so light that he bordered on white. It was the same color as Lord Whitefoot, her husband. The second was a blue roan colt with pitch black eyes.

Lady Aubrey gave birth alone, secluded in a mountainous cavern called the birthing room. As was tradition, it was only customary that a heir was born in the holy cavern that provided centuries of the Whitefoot herd with leaders. So no one else was there to see Lady Aubrey's frightened expression as she stared down at the foals. Or that she soon dissolved into tears.

The blue roan, oh the blue roan. He was not supposed to be there. He was a sign from the heavens, punishing Lady Aubrey for her misdeeds and infidelity. He looked just like his father, who was not Lord Whitefoot.

Lady Aubrey panicked. She nudged her blue roan son to stand and lead him out of the cave, straight into the storm. Frightened, but still a newborn, the colt followed obediently. All night the Lady lead her son through the blistering rains and the high winds, urging him on every time his wobbly new legs failed to work. It wasn't until the wee hours of the morning that Lady Aubrey slowed her pace. She stopped inside a huge tree several feet wide with it's trunk hollowed out and drew the colt close. She nuzzled his mane and lay down, him shivering beside her. Lady Aubrey waited until the colt dozed off before quietly making her exit back into the pouring rain, tears mixing with the rain. Back to the birthing room and her only foal, one who's father was an ivory champagne color.

The blue roan colt awoke in morning to the sun in his eyes, untangled his new legs, and wobbled out of the tree trunk into the morning light. He softly neighed, crying out for his mother, and wobbled around the tree, looking for her. He looked for her for the rest of the day, crying out sorrowfully, but soon, exhausted and hungry he had no choice but to return to the tree. The next two days followed the same pattern, and by the fourth day the blue roan had run out of strength. He could barely even lift his head. Such a short life, it had ended before it had even began.

Or it would have if the Rudo Clan hadn't been in the area. The Rudo Clan was a nomadic herd who were considered outsiders from the rest of the soquili. They kept to themselves, and very little was known about them. It had been told that the herd name meant "heart" and that was their main belief; that what you did was always for the good of the rest. The other side believed that they were a branch of demons, related to the skinwalkers, that stole the pelts of other creatures and ate their souls. One thing was known for sure though, the law within the herd was to never talk or show your true face to strangers because if you did you would be kicked out of the herd yourself. Whatever the law, on that day, the Rudo Clan came across a blue roan colt, lying half-dead in the middle of a tree and decided to save his life.

They nursed the blue roan back to health, and adopted him into the herd as another member. Giving him the exact same treatment that they gave their own foals. And on his coming of age ceremony they presented him with his pelt, for it was indeed true that they wore the pelts of deceased creatures (though they didn't steal the creatures souls, they weren't related to the skinwalkers and they didn't kill the creatures themselves). This custom was part of the Rudo Clan's reclusiveness, hiding their appearance from outsiders.

The blue roan was gifted with his pelt, that of a giant golden baboon and with a name: Masozi (meaning: tears).

On a brisk winter day, Masozi had wandered further from the herd than usual, looking to graze, when he heard the mournful cries of a stallion. Curious, Masozi wandered through the forest to the sound. A stranger, an ivory colored stallion stood in the the forest. Tears ran down his face and his mournful neighs echoed through the clearing. He seemed forlorn, as if his world had just ended. Masozi stared at the stallion, but as was the clans rule, he could not speak to the stranger.

After minutes of wailing into the forest, the stranger seemed to take notice of his baboon clad visitor. He addressed Masozi,

"You? Who are you? Are you a demon to take my life as you have my mother and my father? Are you here to punish me for things out of my control?" The stallion exclaimed hysterically, "Why? My father killed my mother after he found out. She had betrayed him so horribly! Another foal! Another foal!! She had murdered it herself. Took it out to the forest and left it. He would've be forgiving if she had just told him, but for her to kill an innocent broke him. He killed her in his despair....and then he took his own life. Why?! Now they are both gone, leaving me on my own. My herd! The Whitefoot herd I was supposed to lead, has dissolved! Why? Why? Why has everyone left me? Why am I no longer needed?" The stallion dissolved into fits of sobbing "Come here then death! Come here and kill me then! Let me be done with it!"

Masozi stared at the stallion. Looked at this stranger in all his distress, and didn't know what to do. This stallion obviously wanted his life to end but would that be the right thing to do? Would killing someone just because they were not needed anymore be the correct thing to do?

Masozi turned his back and trudged back into the forest, back to the Rudo Clan. His Clan. His Family.

Additional info (optional): Ended up being longer than I thought it would be >.< (and a bit more tragic)

Username: Divena

Main image:

Additional Image links (optional): NA

Story mask is trying to tell: The Moon was a young woman who lived in the West, while her brother, the Sun, lived in the East. The girl had a lover who used to come every month, in the dark of night, to court her. He would always leave before daylight.

Although she talked with him, she could not see his face in the dark, and he would not tell her his name, until she was wondering all the time who it could be.

At last, she hit upon a plan to find out, so the next time he came, as they were sitting together in the dark, she slyly dipped her hand into the cinders and ashes of the fireplace and rubbed it over his face, saying, “Your face is cold; you must have suffered from the wind,” and pretending to be very sorry for him. He did not know she had ashes in her hand, and after awhile left her and went away again.

The next day, when the Sun came up in the sky, his face was covered with spots, and then his sister knew he was the one who had been coming to see her. He was so ashamed that she had found him out that he kept as far away from her as he could at the other end of the sky.

The Moon, who truly did love him, chased him across the sky, forever trying to catch him so that they could be together. On earth, Coyote, who also loved the Moon, saw how besotted she was with her brother. Out of jealousy, he cursed the Sun and Moon to never be together. Whenever the Moon came too close to the Sun, she grew weaker and thinner, until she vanished from sight altogether, never able to catch the Sun so she could confess her love for him.


Additional info (optional): Based off of a Native American legend about the Sun and moon. I just swapped the genders and tweaked it a bit X-D

Username: Angelique DelaMort

Main image:

Additional Image links (optional):

Story mask is trying to tell:


It was a dark and stormy night, the sky occasionally set ablaze by a sudden flash of lightning and a deep rumbling of thunder. Alone in a dank prison cell, a woman waited out the storm. While there was still beauty in her face, it was only a ghost of what it had been in her youth. Her adornments, once fine and luxurious, were now tattered and faded, the result of her long imprisonment. The charge brought upon her, of murder most foul, was not an unjust one. In fact, if anything was to be said on the matter, it would be that the charge was not serious enough. She has indeed committed murder. Had done so many times and, truth be told, would have gladly continued.

But she wasn't a monster. Not like those other criminals that filled the cells around her, not really. They were born monsters, filled with evil right from the start. Killing those that were weaker and never once stopping to consider the consequences of their actions. She was nothing like them. She only killed those who were supposed to be stronger than herself. And she did consider the consequences of her actions, well at least one particular action - one that haunted her all these years.

She looked out the tiny window of her cell upon the moon, full and slowly falling from the sky. Just a few more hours left, she thought to herself. Might as well reflect upon the good, the few bright days before I became a widow.

She remembered when she first met him, reckless and charming, all at once. He raced alongside her through the woods, keeping pace with and throwing her a cocky smile now and again. She fell for him long before she knew of his title or his wealth. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of and she knew that she couldn’t live without him.

They were married and for a time, knew happiness and complete content within each other’s company. Then one day they were walking through the woods, one of their fondest past times, when she tripped over a root, fell to the ground and hit her head. She remembered nothing until several hours later when she woke to find her mate standing over her, crying.

“How could you?” he demanded, growing stern as she met his eyes.

She blinked in confusion and then followed his stony gaze to her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she saw that the shawl she always wore had fallen away and exposed an ugly red brand against her fair skin.

“A fleur-de-lis,” he said in disbelief. “The mark of murders and traitors. And you never said a word, nothing at all to me…”

She pleaded with him, begged him to forgive her for her secrets and swore she’d committed no crimes. She’d been falsely accused in a past life when she refused a man’s advances. But no matter what she said or how she implored him to listen, his face became more and more grave. His heart was like stone and he turned his back on her. Convinced she was deceitful and had only married him for his fortune, he banished her from his lands and from his sight, even as she continued to profess her undying love.

Lost and alone, the woman wept bitter tears over her broken heart. Her husband’s betrayal and complete lack of faith warped her mind and drove out what remained of her fragile sanity. She vowed to become the monster that he believed her to be. With her beauty and her charms she could have any man she desired. She married rich and a few short months after the wedding her new groom would meet with a happy accident, leaving her with the means to travel the land and find a new rich man and begin again. For each wedding night she requested only one gift, a single red ruby – a trophy of sorts.

She’d meant to have a necklace made of them when she ‘retired,’ but that was never going to happen now. Because now the sun was rising and soon they would come for her. Then she’d put her head on that block and maybe…maybe she would see her husband again someday.

Additional info (optional):

This story was inspired by Sabine/Milady de Winter from The Three Musketeers (partially the original novel and part the movie from 1993) and just a tiny bit by Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter series.

The mask itself tells the story though colors and imagery. The dark colors on the mask and the veil represent the state of mourning our main character endures. The red hour glass in the center of the mask brings forth images of the black widow spider famous for her habit of killing her mate (which can be seen crawling through the veil). The presence of the wispy web/veil is another reference to the black widow spider as well as to the widow’s weeds our main character may have worn with the death of each husband. The bright red fleur-de-lis that pins the veil is the same symbol that marked the lady as a murder in her husband’s eyes. On the far cheek is the symbol for the three of swords, the sign of heartbreak and betrayal. On the other is a dark crack, like the one that opened in our lady’s mind after she was thrown asunder from her lover. A single ruby tear falls from her eye for the love that was lost while the bottom of the mask is lined with her crimson trophies.

Username: x_nagatai

Main image: Mask
(Please excuse the mess. I was very pressed for time this week and didn't get a chance to finish the mask before the deadline.)

Additional Image links (optional):

Story mask is trying to tell:The mask tells the story of the Beauty and the Beast. The original one, not the disney remake.
The mask focuses on the beast's character. The stem is green and adorned with a rose to symbolize both Beast's favourite flower and his inner beauty. Though he looks like a monster, (mane, horns, fangs) in the Grimm version Beast is a generous and compassionate person.
With the mane and the golden colouration, the mask has a lion-like look to it. This is because lions are regal and noble, but also vicious and dangerous at the same time. The horns are supposed to be twisted around, reflecting the beast's twisted personality.
The eyes of the mask are themed differently. One eye is cracked with a beastly look to it, showing the beginning of the Beast's loss of humanity due to the curse. He has been a beast for so long that his personality is starting to show it. The other is a human eye crying, symbolizing the desperation and desire to find love and hold on to his human side.

Additional info (optional): I chose to focus solely on Beast because I find him the most interesting aspect of the entire story. I truly wish that someone would write a story spotlighting Beast's journey and development. His emotional internal struggle as a human and a beast would make a fascinating story. I tried to bring that battle to life in the mask.

Edited 8:29 am PST to attach the mask and add more detail to text.

Username: LOLTERNATIVE

Main image: (Click for larger)

Additional Image links (optional): x

Story mask is trying to tell:



A long time ago, there was a tribe of unicorns so pure in blood and so powerful in healing that some believed that they descended directly from the very first unicorns in the lands. The tribe was peaceful and always helped those in need, sometimes even traveling to villages when the number of those needing their help was large. Many admired and idolized them, a few going so far as to worship them. They were showered with gifts varying from the simple to the extravagant. Despite all this, they were humble and modest and always gave the gifts to those less fortunate.

The youngest healer of the tribe, Elanor, was believed to be the most beautiful. Her coat was said to be the colour of a deer's. Her hair, the colour of a tree's trunk, streaked with the light of the mid-day sun peaking through the trees of its canopy, was described as being soft as silk despite its length. Her eyes were emerald green, shining with intelligence, determination and kindness.

She was a master at using herbs to heal and kept a journal of all the things she knew, hoping to pass it on to her children when they were old enough to be taught. The journal was filled with pictures of flowers, herbs, trees with healing sap - each one listing their use, where they're most likely to be found. She even listed poisons, the effects the poison had on the victim and what the best antidote was. The book was considered the village's greatest treasure, along with its owner and creator.

In the village, when a soquili reaches a certain age, she must bear children so that the line can continue and the rest of the land will always have healers to turn to. Elanor had reached that age months ago and the others were beginning to whisper about the fact that she hadn't even made any attempt to choose a mate or respond to her many offers.

She claimed she was too busy at the moment and would have children when she believed the time was right. The truth was that she had found a love, but not in the village. Elanor had fallen for a kalona she had healed on her way to a village that had been destroyed by an unknown force. They had plans to run away together, to live freely without her tribe's strict laws.

What Elanor didn't know was that the kalona she had fallen for was the force that destroyed the village. He was searching for her specifically so he could have children with her. Unicorn and kalona blood. Kalona strengths, unicorn ability to rid the weaknesses.

When Elanor fell pregnant, she did not tell anyone who the father was. She had not yet left the village with her love - a disease kept her working day and night. When the baskets finally opened and the babies popped out, the village shunned Elanor for it was obvious they were not pure unicorns. Elanor had done the forbidden. She had not only born children to a non-unicorn father, but she had born children to a unicorn's sworn enemy.

The father came to the village and the other unicorns hid from him, fearing the strength that radiated him. They would rather live than fight and die. Elanor ran to her love, happy they could finally be together. Her children shakily followed her, eagerly awaiting to meet their father.

It happened quick, her death. Elanor stopped abruptly and her children followed suit, laughing as if it were a game. Then she fell and the blood pooled around her and the children nudged their mother, begging her to wake up. Licking the blood from his teeth, the kalona examined his children, smiling at them all except one.

The youngest, the runt. She was tiny and looked exactly like her mother. The only thing that proved she was his daughter was a single black kalona horn poking from her head. Before he left with her siblings, he broke Elanor's horn off and took it with him, laughing as he did so.

Emerging from their hiding places, the unicorns surrounded Elanor and the weeping child. The mourned her loss, knowing she was naive and was taken advantage of. She had not betrayed them. They had betrayed her when they did not save her life. They called the child Mira and raised her in the village.

Mira quickly became a decently skilled healer, though she was nowhere near as good as her full-blooded brethren. Her skill, like her mother's was, lied in the herbs she learned of in her mother's books. With them she was able to cure most illnesses and heal most wounds from infection as she treated them.

Because of the strength that came with her kalona blood, Mira was the one that was sent to villages the most, one or two unis accompanying her if the task required it. When she went to villages, Mira would always seek out the most skilled fighter, asking him to train her. They would always agree as Mira always saved their village.

Thanks to this training, Mira became quite the skilled fighter and rumor began to spread of the warrior who saved lives. Mira's father heard of what had become of his daughter and instantly regretted leaving her behind. He travels to the village and demands to see his daughter. The unicorns, not wanting to make the same mistake they did when Elanor was killed, confront the kalona. They explain that Mira has traveled to a village that needed her services.

Of course, he doesn't believe them and thinks they're trying to hide her. He begins to kill them all, their screams sending all wildlife around them fleeing for their own lives. Their blood has covered the ground and bodies are scattered everywhere. As he kills the leader of the tribe, Mira returns and witnesses the murder and the bodies of her family.

Years of hatred for the father she has never known break free, mixing with the shock and rage at the scene before her. She launches onto him and, using her years of training, defeats him swiftly, a bite mark to her thigh the only wound inflicted upon her.

Burning the bodies of those she loved, she weeps. When the fires have died down, she turns to the body of her father and spots something sparkling under the light of the sun. Moving forward she finds her mother's horn, tied around his neck like a simple necklace. She snatches it from his neck and lights a fire around his body.

Mira watched the flames slowly breaking him down and vowed that she would destroy a kalona for every unicorn that fell here today. She took count. 24 kalonas would die by her hands or she would die trying.

Mira reached into the flames to take her father's skull, a token of her skill. Before she placed it upon her head, Mira slammed her head into a large boulder, breaking off the single kalona horn she bore. Placing her father's skull upon her head, wearing it like a mask, she tied her mother's horn to one side and her own horn to the other. She took with her herbs from the garden she'd been growing. The strongest poisons she tied to the skull, on the same side as her mother's horn, the healing she stuffed into a satchel along with her mother's book.

Mira left the village and never returned. Rumors began to spread of a unicorn that managed to kill a kalona. Stories spread of Mira and how she had killed, at last count, six kalonas on her own. This was something that was remarked as amazing, as everyone believed Mira to be a pure blooded unicorn. The only ones that knew the truth were either dead or had made silent vows to keep it a secret.

Mira killed kalonas, acting out her need for vengeance as the rage built up inside of her. She never faltered, unaware that she was turning into the very thing she wished to destroy.

Additional info (optional): All the items on her horns are held by strong strings. :3 The herbs are from her mother's garden and she uses them for healing. The horn is her mother's horn. The kalona horn hanging was the horn she had remaining, but she broke it off. The skull is her fathers. The feathers and teeth are from various kalonas she's killed.