Serissa has a minion!

Rocque the Telerok

Legacy Name: Serissa

The Custom Lilac Kerubi
Owner: Chrysariel

Age: 5 years, 3 months, 2 days

Born: August 31st, 2017

Adopted: 5 years, 3 months, 2 days ago

Adopted: August 31st, 2017

Pet Spotlight Winner
October 25th, 2019


  • Level: 127
  • Strength: 178
  • Defense: 10
  • Speed: 10
  • Health: 10
  • HP: 10/10
  • Intelligence: 596
  • Books Read: 589
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Exhibition Photographer

Picture Perfect

Not every Subetan is fortunate enough to travel with a crew of photographers hand-picked by the head editor of Subeta Geographic. When you're in charge of one of the oldest and most respected magazine publications in the world, you don't settle for rookies or second-rate art school dropouts.

My crew is spectacular. We've got Aspen for hauling the heavy crates and capturing aerial shots. Magenta uses her agile flipper-hands to preserve gorgeous underwater images of vibrant coral and playful tutanis chasing one another in the ocean depths. Rom is a master of motion, exposing his film just right to reveal the twirling wings of a phemoria in flight or slowing the progress of the bullet from a six-shooter as it explodes the fleshy center of an oofa fruit. They know when to crack jokes about exposure and flashbulbs to lighten the tension of a day with few opportunities but they also know when to be silent.

My interest is in capturing the beauty of the land, from the festive garments of the Ytiva performing their rituals to welcome winter to the tiny faces of young jollins peering out of their family den for the first time.

We often take assignments in more isolated corners of Subeta. Let the fashion freaks in Centropolis waste film on the bubbly modern scene of city life. We are out to capture those wild places that snatch at something in your heart and refuse to ever surrender it. We brave the heat of Saherimos, the cold of Arctic Frost and even the forbidding black hills behind Darkside on a regular basis, never tiring of locations that have not felt the ruinous effects of settlement by large groups of civil-minded destroyers.

We know how to be there for each other without ever getting in the way of a shot. If there's one thing that drives me crazy, it's a novice that asks a question at the wrong moment or fumbles the camera case just as you're preparing to click your shutter. I try hard to be patient, knowing that I missed plenty of gorgeous captures in my first year. Those who don't know me well complain that I'm direct, yet they marvel at my front cover features that grace the shelves of magazine vendors in all corners of Subeta. They don't realize that some days I sit in the same place for eight hours, eating only what's placed in my hand and bringing on tension headaches like you wouldn't believe as I turn into a living statue. That kind of attention to detail doesn't come from saying a picture is pretty good and calling it a day. You want perfection? Work for it. There's no other way to achieve it.

My crew is the best, but some shoots, you just want to make a solo run.

Not that I'm ever truly alone, of course. I wouldn't go anywhere without Rocque, my minion and best friend.

Don't go mistaking Rocque for some silly ball of fluff that romps around my feet and spends the vast majority of the day napping on a silk cushion. He's about average size for a telerok, able to lick the top of the spruce trees in Arctic Frost without a whole lot of effort. His massive chest is perfect for bearing the weight of a harness strapped with leather bags that can carry cameras and lenses for various types of shots along with tripods, flash hoods, and enough food to feed an army of six. One entire bag is dedicated to the jerkied strips of meat Rocque so enjoys. He sees to the packing and unpacking of supplies at every site and while we may burn through our bug spray to fend off the mosquitos of Darkside a few times, none of us has ever gone hungry.

Rocque knows how I like my setup. He is my ideal assistant, placing the equipment in the proper configuration as my mental gears spin through the perfect lighting angle, the ideal shutter speed and the exact height set for the camera.

We spent the morning in the market where the Saheric called out to tourists in booming voices, waving lovely pendants and fragrant spices under foreign noses. Their garments are striped in family color patterns passed down through generations, each stripe's width and use of beads telling a family story called to mind at the touch of a finger.

There are pictures in the memory of my camera that will easily earn me my pay for the week, but this is not enough. In a formation of stone just a few miles from the Secluded Shrine, it is said there is a very rare species of flower that is said to sparkle like the gems of a golden mahar at the exact minute of noon. No photographer has ever succeeded in capturing more than a hint of the golden glory hidden inside its deep blue velvet pod.

The day has come for the Mahar Magnolia to give up its secrets.

Rocque whines as the sun climbs and climbs. He is so sweet to worry for me. It's no secret to those I work with that I'm not built for heat extremes. My fur may look gorgeous but it accentuates the harsh heat while protecting from the bitter bite of arctic wind. Many times I have taken sick after a shoot because I did not heed the warnings of my body. I can already feel the telltale dizziness that will soon lead me to a pounding headache but in ten minutes my discomfort will be worth the shot of the century.

The petals unfold slowly, revealing the golden glory within one leaf at a time. My timing instinct has always served me well. My wingtip presses down on the camera button.


At precisely 12:01, the petals snap back to their original position of uninspiring lumpy blob of velvet. There are tears in my eyes as I glance at the captured image. My photograph is perfection, down to the subtle glitter of the sun on the jewel-like scales that dot the golden petals.

I let Rocque guide me to the shade of an awning he set up when we first arrived, staring with great happiness at my image as he works to pack up camp. He insists that I lean on his shoulder as we return to the market. I tuck my camera away in its crushed-velvet case, securing the strap with the special lock that requires a four-digit combination to be opened. Only Rocque and myself know the proper number.

I think it's time to head back to the market and buy a tall glass of something sweet and cold. Very cold.


Profile Code by: Ringo
Extra Code by: Shantal
Edited by: Chrysariel
Overlay by: Subeta
& Morse & Chrysariel
Story by: Pureflower
Background by:
Camera Lens by:
Name Art by: Chrysariel

Pet Treasure

Digital Camera


35mm Camera

Battered Camera

Battered Instant Camera

Waterproof Camera

Blue Phone Touch

Lifetime Achievement Award

Underground Art: Photography

Book of Spirit Photography

2014 Predictions

Beautiful Fireworks Photo Collection


Subeta Landmarks Photo Album

Over Exposed Photo

Stamped Out Photograph

Yellowed Photograph

Lovely Winter Photo

Dragonfly Photo

Burnt Photograph

Boneyard Photo

Black Tangerine Laptop

Turquoise Tangerine Laptop

Can of Dust Killer Spray

Computer Polish

Color Film

Black and White Film

Angelic Film

Darkmatter Film

Purple Tangerine Ear Buds

Blue Mouse

Blue Headset

USB Adapter


Retractable Cable

Black Keyboard

Dusk Mouse Pad

Surge Protector

USB Memory Stick


Black Battery Backup System


Black Monitor

Blue Gaming Headset

Blue Rad Wireless Controller

Blue Precision Gaming Mouse

Blue Rad Game System

Blue Wireless Router

Computer Projector

Turquoise Tangerine Smartphone

Blue Tangerine Touchphone

Portable DVD Player

Subeta Art Shop

Subeta Web Design

Subeta Word Processor

Large First Aid Kit

Stainless Steel Souvenir Peka-Boo Bottle

Ice Stone

Tattered Wedding Photo Album


Curious Critter



Box of Childhood Memories

Pet Friends



Inkie Pie

Indigo Flame




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Zakarian Blaze