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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.23 m
Wingspan
8.26 m
Weight
590.4 kg
Genetics
White
Iridescent
Iridescent
Cream
Seraph
Seraph
Oilslick
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Wildclaw
Max Level
STR
110
AGI
15
DEF
6
QCK
83
INT
5
VIT
10
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
ILYAAS The Wanderer |
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He made a deal once, and he lost something once. Or did he even have it in the first place? He is unsure. Ilyaas has long since abandoned his travels, choosing instead to take up permanent residence in Blackdune. He feels perfectly at home among the strange beings there. After all, his shimmering tattoos appear more alive than he is these days, swirling and blinking and ceaselessly watching. |
━━ notes ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
» his unusual tattoos are a byproduct of a curse he has since forgotten the details of. » theme: The Moon Will Sing – The Crane Wives _________________________________________________________ |
original code by epher #101073
code modified by Kairo #196708
code modified by Kairo #196708
Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust
Tell me I am good enough
Lay my curses out to rest
Make a mercy out of me
Tell me I am good enough
Lay my curses out to rest
Make a mercy out of me
mikhael wrote on 2018-06-19 18:45:11:
'magnets,' axis says decisively, nodding once. 'when you're playing with a couple of them and you try and push the same sides together, and they just fly apart, or even right out of your hands. the way that wind burns your skin, leaves it redder and flushed. when you walk into a room and someone's moved something, but you can't tell what, just that things are wrong. dark wood, like oak or mahogany. the way your chest aches when you cry.'
Whim wrote on 2017-05-30 09:31:23:
Traveled long & far,
across spans of sea & land
Through deserts, cities, tattered bars,
Searching for a concept, solid as ocean's sand.
All of this time, the walking, the flying,
the stops & the rests
had all been there with you,
& though the times had been one incomplete,
I was at our best.
Yet my gift could not stand up
To what would lie ahead.
In my hand, the sand I would cup
Did nothing for the pounding in my head.
For all the virtue we had victoriously earned,
I found I did not have the bravery,
To stand without you, I learned.
If I had to do it all again,
What really would I say?
I would spend the years with you, in the open lanes,
But for the ultimate decision -
I lean a foggy gray.
across spans of sea & land
Through deserts, cities, tattered bars,
Searching for a concept, solid as ocean's sand.
All of this time, the walking, the flying,
the stops & the rests
had all been there with you,
& though the times had been one incomplete,
I was at our best.
Yet my gift could not stand up
To what would lie ahead.
In my hand, the sand I would cup
Did nothing for the pounding in my head.
For all the virtue we had victoriously earned,
I found I did not have the bravery,
To stand without you, I learned.
If I had to do it all again,
What really would I say?
I would spend the years with you, in the open lanes,
But for the ultimate decision -
I lean a foggy gray.
SilverSilver wrote on 2019-06-15 10:56:44:
So we were swept into the slipstream, with the dying moon looming and your beautiful harp torn in two, and my path split sevenfold. What hope dare I find in this era? What sprites sing in the dark? A laugh for a sorrow, the scales unbalanced, a red moon rising and the dry desert quaking. Only my heart shall glow in the dark, but ever will I look away - catch me standing at the door, three times more, and we’ll dance that concentric step again.
AcexMeme wrote on 2020-04-29 10:49:56:
Flames lick at his mind. A searing pain reverberates throughout his body.
He is burning alive, his body, his heart, his soul.
It struggles against the weight of pain, it writhes and wills. Heat consumes his spirit, chips away at his strength until his corpse collapses around him.
He is a husk of a body, with ash and soot coating the inside. He is dust and char and loneliness.
The bitterness of scorched flesh and abandoned hope tickle the back of his throat.
He coughs up the ruins of his passion, of his love and hope.
He is burning alive, his body, his heart, his soul.
It struggles against the weight of pain, it writhes and wills. Heat consumes his spirit, chips away at his strength until his corpse collapses around him.
He is a husk of a body, with ash and soot coating the inside. He is dust and char and loneliness.
The bitterness of scorched flesh and abandoned hope tickle the back of his throat.
He coughs up the ruins of his passion, of his love and hope.
Pixel by ImpossibleJedi4!
SPIRITFIRE SURPRISED ME WITH THIS ASDFGHJKL; IM SCREAMIN
Moodboard by Reefknot!
Artwork by dannyboi!
Adopt by aavikko!
Artwork by NookAAAA!
Artwork by lasaga!
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Ilyaas to the service of the Stormcatcher will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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