Art Sales

1160

September 28, 2015 05:10:12

I was born in the Moonlit Sea Hatchery.

Esmerelda looked at her mirroring image in the glittering lake. They matched, the two of them. They had both a dark surface and her icy wings resembled the silver moon reflected in the water. The stars glimmered and called her to move closer to the edge. As she stared deeper into the sparkling water a gust of wind blew her head first into the pond. Hating to bath, yet mesmerized by the water, Esmerelda flew from the water with only her belly soaking wet. The next morning she saw the stairs from her pond mirrored on her belly. Since that she left the Shadow domain, as she now could carry her stars around. She looked forward to seeing the night skies of the world.

She decided the first thing she would see was the Sea of a Thousand Currents at night, dreaming of an endless pond of stairs meeting the real night sky at the horizon, creating a whole world of black and glitter. Upon arriving the water domain, she was both disappointed and happily surprised. The sea was too upset to be the vast mirror of the night sky and clouds hung low. She asked around and uncovered the fact the weather was often like this, with rain storms thunder and lightning, much as the Shifting Expanse. She liked the lighting, but did not want to settle in a place with much rain and clouds covering her beloved sky.

Esmerelda decided to fly toward south-west as the sky seemed clear there. halfway trough the water domain she needed to rest, eat and sleep. She landed and was well treated by the water clans she encounted. Upon leaving the next day the sun finally broke trough the skyskape, and the thin, golden rays hit the beach. Sea shells, glass and stones shone in the small glimmers of light, and Esmerelda's eyes lit up as well. This place could actually be prettier at day than at night, which was something she had never experienced.

Still, she did not stay. The ever cloudless spot in the distance called to her. She had tail wind and reached the highest speed she had ever had. The wind sung around her as it pushed her forward, and she reached the border before midday. She crossed the border o the Windswept Plateu and looked around in confusion. The strong wind had faded to a mild breeze tickled her feathers in its stead. The Windsinger put down his flute and looked curiously at the newcomer.
"Welcome, daughter of the night. The wind sensed a lost child came told me. You must now realize the singing wind who brought you here was one of my creations." "Well" she said, stunned. "I was looking for the place of my dreams". The Windsinger seemed to study her every feature before he finally said "I suggest you stay the night, maybe you'll find this is the place of your dreams".

The deity showed Esmerelda around the domain that day, and in the evening he left her with Lisegathe's clan in the Cloudsong. They ate and made merry until the sun set. Once the night sky with all her stars took over, she found a silent spot on a kite and looked not only up at the stars, but to her sides as well: she was surrounded by a dome of stars all around her. There was even some stars under her!

Since that night she stayed with her new clan in the Cloudsong. NewEnergy helped her make her first kite, and she still sits on that same kite every night, watching the stars surrounding her as the seasons passes by.

I'll give her Glimmer when I get rich.

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14280943] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/142810/14280943_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] ----- Shadowberry had always been a stubborn hatchling. She inherited not a single drop of her mother's cheerful, calm cheerfulness, or her father's cautious, patient cunning. Her temper was as fiery hot as the Flamecaller himself if not worse. As a teenager Shadowberry had many minor arguments with her parents and friends. After a 3-week row with her dad she finally did what she had decided long ago: she left. She wrote her friends a note, and her parents a particulary hasty and scribbly one. She guessed no one would really be surprised, as troublesome as she had been all those weeks. She turned her tail, sniffed the ashen air and left with her head held high and an unnaturally hefty kick on the ground. Clearing the cloudbanks, she lifted herself above the cotton candy and went for some furious dives before she decided on a direction. Which turned out to be south-west, into the Shifting Expanse.

AliciaA

1160

September 28, 2015 05:13:05

Shadowberry had always been a stubborn hatchling. She inherited not a single drop of her mother's cheerful, calm cheerfulness, or her father's cautious, patient cunning. Her temper was as fiery hot as the Flamecaller himself if not worse.

As a teenager Shadowberry had many minor arguments with her parents and friends. After a 3-week row with her dad she finally did what she had decided long ago: she left. She wrote her friends a note, and her parents a particulary hasty and scribbly one. She guessed no one would really be surprised, as troublesome as she had been all those weeks.

She turned her tail, sniffed the ashen air and left with her head held high and an unnaturally hefty kick on the ground. Clearing the cloudbanks, she lifted herself above the cotton candy and went for some furious dives before she decided on a direction. Which turned out to be south-west, into the Shifting Expanse.

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13458007] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/134581/13458007_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] Funfact: she's [b]007[/b] [center][size=5][size=7][font=Vivaldi][b]Viridiana[/b][/font][/size][/size] Her parents named her up after the Viridian forest where they first met. Her father being a Wind dragon and her mother a Lightning one, the chances they met were minimal. But when they met, they came to stay together forever. Viridiana started her journey at the Cairnestone Rest. She liked the maze of mines that started in the very back of the lair. As a hatchling she could wander around for hours. The rough, glittering pieces of stone that contrasted so much from the dull stone easily caught her eye and she could easily cut down or wiggle loose pieces of gold, topaz and ruby. As she grew , she started taking her small treasures out into the flat with grass outside. It was not a garden, but it felt better in a way she could not describe. Maybe t was the fresh air, or the sunlight warming her scales, or the space to stretch her wings, or the smell of the soft grass she sat on. She started hanging out with traveling dragons, following or guiding them trough the rocky landscape. The serpents were rattling in the walls of her den, and the dusty smell of the mines did not comfort her as it once did. She had started seeking the plains for that comfort. She wondered at going to the Viridian Labyrinth to see where her name came from, but on her way she met an Imperial with the exact same colors as herself! She tagged along to the Windswept Plateau, where she stayed as a guest for a long time. She had tagged along, and as the hopeless teenager she was, she thought they would marry. (Of course he didn't know anything.) After some time at the Plateau she realized her mistake and decided to make a new journey. This time she brought a few supplies with her; a huge pack of varied food (20 food points of each type), a filled waterskin, a map and her favorite blanket. She was ready. [/center]

AliciaA

1160

September 28, 2015 05:14:54

Funfact: she's 007

Viridiana

Her parents named her up after the Viridian forest where they first met. Her father being a Wind dragon and her mother a Lightning one, the chances they met were minimal. But when they met, they came to stay together forever.

Viridiana started her journey at the Cairnestone Rest. She liked the maze of mines that started in the very back of the lair. As a hatchling she could wander around for hours. The rough, glittering pieces of stone that contrasted so much from the dull stone easily caught her eye and she could easily cut down or wiggle loose pieces of gold, topaz and ruby.

As she grew , she started taking her small treasures out into the flat with grass outside. It was not a garden, but it felt better in a way she could not describe. Maybe t was the fresh air, or the sunlight warming her scales, or the space to stretch her wings, or the smell of the soft grass she sat on. She started hanging out with traveling dragons, following or guiding them trough the rocky landscape. The serpents were rattling in the walls of her den, and the dusty smell of the mines did not comfort her as it once did. She had started seeking the plains for that comfort.

She wondered at going to the Viridian Labyrinth to see where her name came from, but on her way she met an Imperial with the exact same colors as herself! She tagged along to the Windswept Plateau, where she stayed as a guest for a long time. She had tagged along, and as the hopeless teenager she was, she thought they would marry. (Of course he didn't know anything.) After some time at the Plateau she realized her mistake and decided to make a new journey. This time she brought a few supplies with her; a huge pack of varied food (20 food points of each type), a filled waterskin, a map and her favorite blanket. She was ready.

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=6677666] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/66777/6677666_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] [color=#b40808][size=2]Fun fact: Her name was approved by my grandma.[/size][/color] [center][b][size=7][font=Baskerville Old Face][color=#b40808]Bloody Mary[/color][/font][/size][/b] [item=shred] [color=#000000]Mary used to play nicely with the other hatchings. Used to. She was the only wildclaw among the fae and coatl hatchlings. When her claws grew and her fangs started to itch, their differences in size, strength and weaponry made her accidentally hurt them when playing. Being an arcane dragon, their contuse's had little effect, or she was borne with a naturally high strength stat. Once, a coatl were too cocky and ended up bleeding so badly he had to see a healer. That's when they started nicknaming. It didn't help that her ID had 666 in it, and her hide the color of dried blood. After a little while, the parents held their young ones away from Mary. She started journeying outside during the nights. She slept the days away. She had arguments with her parents and decided to move out. As she moved alone, with no need to hide from others, her routine shifted slowly back to hunting in daylight in stead of moonlight. Mary reached the outskirts of the Starwood strand, she stopped. She could turn south-west and cross into Ice territory, but the cold didn't tempt her much. Also, her red hide would be a screaming target. She had grown in strength and length, and no one was likely to carelessly attack her, but as intimidating as she looked she was still a bit scared of contact with others. She did not believe she was the monster her fellow hatchlings believed she was. She gazed at the tempting, lush steppes ahead, but decided against it. Her strength lay in her claws, not in her wings. She had only flown minor distances up till this point. She altered her direction a bit, toward the scarred wasteland. There she would blend perfectly in with the landscape. [img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/region_plague.jpg[/img] The smell were like that of a rabid dog, and made her puke at least 5 times the first day. Still she continued. Her routine turned back to backwards; hiding and sleeping where she tought were safe during the day, picking off leeches and journeying during the night. She hunted along the way, but ate only what she thought she recognized as edible. The crittes she hunted tasted, strangely enough, like normal meat. She met a male guardian, with gembond so green it looked like radiation, who helped her raise her level a little. He also guided her trough the Scarred Wasteland, never stopping to stay in a den. The Wandering Contagion were not to Mary's liking. It was so bare, she had nowhere to hide. During the day she only half dozed. The night went by at a slower pace. Her pukings came less often, but her guide kept saying she were probably not made for living in these lands. After days of misery they arrived at the Rotrock Rim. The guardian seemed surprised she had not gotten used to the smell, but how could she? It invaded her nostrils and trout with every gasp, and the gasses in ti pained her lungs. Seeing her pain, the guardian decided against showing her the region's heart, the Wyrmwound. Their journey continued [i]around [/i]the center, keeping close to the border but never passing it. They took the shortest rout out of Plague territory, which were trough the Abiding Boneyard. Without a guide she would have been completely lost in just one day. They found a dying ridgeback. A hoard of serpents were already feeding on her broken wings, and had they had a healer she would still have been beyond saving. She had had a massive crash, from great height. A hoard of harpied had ambushed her, striking her out of balance. The harpies had not followed, but then again, they didn't have to. The broken skydancer begged them for mercy, and prayed silently to her god, the Tidelord, and that of her region, the Plaguebringer, that she would come to the one who would take her, and pleaded to join one of them quickly. Mary looked to the guardian, who nodded. They could not heal, but they could en the misery. The guardian admitted he were not as strong as he seemed, and his claws were halfway rotted away. Mary had wondered at why he had only caught food, but always let her kill them. She had thought it were common courtesy in the region. She took put her biggest claw to finish it quickly. She had to look, or she might have to do more than one strike. The thin skydancer's neck broke, and were nearly completely severed. She had to have died quickly, for her eyes were not wide in horror. Like Mary's. Her heart was pumping, and her stomach sprayed with fresh red. She was Bloody Mary for real. A monster. She threw up again, in the bush where the serpents had been hiding since their arrival. They spent an entire day mourning, and when they left, there were only a tomb of gravel, with a stone tablet showing a carefully, claw-drawn skydancer leaning on it. After what felt like years of torment, she stood again at the border of the Windsinger's land. She stepped into the swaying, healthy grass. The fresh air almost knocked her out. The smell of grass and seawater filled her nostrlils and made her even more dizzy. She felt like her chest was expanding. She puked for the last time. [img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/region_wind.jpg[/img] A group of spirals spotted her quickly, even as she tried hiding. She cursed her bloody color. "Hi, look what I found!" The totally goldenrod fire-noodle screamed with joy to his ice-eyed circuit friend, who arrived only moments later. "She stinks" He commented, but smiled all the same. "Let's wash her" the first one agreed, as if she were not standing right there before them. She felt annoyed but relieved. She could have a bath! She must have smelled like death the way the skycats who lifted her on what seemed like a two-layered curtain held her up with their hind legs and covered their noses with their free paws. She had never moved so fast. She had barely the time to think as she was transported from the top of the Reedcleft Ascent to the Sea of a Thousand Currents down by the Zephyr Steppes. Had someone told her she would visit 3 regions in one day she would have laughed, but here she was, turned totally upside-down out of the curtains and down in the sea. She figured she must have smelled worse than a month-old fish. A water tundra joined her in the water. Had she closed her eyes, Mary would for sure thought she was from Fire. Her coat was as crimson as they could get, and her wings a fiery orange. "I'm glad you can swim, I bet the others forgot to ask" she said, coming closer. "Wings out". Mary did so, feeling like a hatchling again. She could wash herself, but did not protest. It was, after all, several weeks since she had touched clean water. She resisted the urge to drink the salty mixture. When the tundra was satisfied, the cloud cats came back with a clean curtain and swooped her up. This time they were fewer and used all their feet on the curtain. Feeling more welcome, she started moving around on the steppes. Her routine changed to match that of the windies: be awake when you want, sleep when you want. Months passed by. She learnt how to basically defend for herself using her claws in more tactical and unpredictable ways, and how to use her element. The others joked about her being a killing machine, but did not see that what they thought of as a compliment actually hurt her. She knew they did not know, but her belly were for ever red because of that incident, and reminded her every time she looked in a mirror or puddle, or someone called her name. [/color] Almost a year had passed. She had not found a mate, and started to miss one. The windies were always so lighthearted, she did not want to spoil their fun by saying she felt lonely. She knew Beorn, the XXY blood snowbelly had taken an interest in her, but they never really got to know each other. And their children might have gotten a pink belly. [i]Pink [/i]and [i]blood[/i], ugh. But he had pretty ice eyes and a soft, deep voice. He looked and sounded like a regal leader. Yet they rarely spoke. Maybe he was too shy to be a true leader. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9658598] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/96586/9658598_350.png[/img] [/url] Some time later, a new blood XXY joined the clan. It was another female wildclaw. She had cooler, more exclusive genes. She had no visible tertiary, but she would sure look striking as hell when she grew up. She came from the orphanage, from what she could gather from her clan mates. She was somewhat smaller than Mary had been at her age, but her claws were just as sharp. The wind parents put wine corks on her claws before letting her play with the others. When she asked how they got that idea, they said they had heard about a wildclaw that had nearly killed a fellow hatchling that way, and since then they had "corked" the wildlaw hatchlings until they managed to control their limbs well enough not to endanger others. She felt the guilt flood in her. The newcomer had fun with the others. Jealousy danced in her belly along with the guilt. As the week went by, the newcomer grew up to be as stunning as was expected. Her name was Yveltal. As she grew up, Beorn grew clearly more and more attached to her. They hung out every day, playing and training. Feling repaced and depressed, her thoughts started to wander. She could do as she had before, move away and forget her past. Except her red belly would never let her forget. She could confront Yveltal and tell her to stay away from Beorn, or confess her feelings to Beorn. Except those feelings had not been there until he fell in love with the youngling. How could she know if her feelings were real or just a fabric of lost attention? [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=16352663] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/163527/16352663_350.png[/img] [/url] Her feelings suddenly all jumbled up, she decided on the latter. She had never really loved him, but she had longed for a mate. That had to be it. She went home to her place in the den and started packing her belongings. Yveltal, the new one, must have noticed this, because when she had almost finished, the young wildclaw waited in the hallway. "You're really leaving?" Her stare was unnerving and a bit provoking. "The two of you never hung out, and the others tell he was more into you than you were on him." Her thoughts exactly, but hearing those words from the teenager's jaws seemed too unfair. She raised to her full height, brisked her wings and snarled her words "Now that he is all over his tail for you, no one will notice. You should be happy to get rid of me, you'll have lair space for hatchlings." With those words she stormed past. [/center] ------ ------ [color=#b40808][u]STILL WRITING[/u] - journey to the border -tells her story - letter sisters - still bitter - have to fix the pictures of Beorn and Yveltal, I want those small profil-sizes ones[/color] (coming up: click beorn or the new one's picture to go see their paralell lores. Sadly, it will take lots of time to write theirs, as they will get complicated)

AliciaA

1160

September 28, 2015 05:17:12

Fun fact: Her name was approved by my grandma.

Bloody Mary

Mary used to play nicely with the other hatchings. Used to. She was the only wildclaw among the fae and coatl hatchlings. When her claws grew and her fangs started to itch, their differences in size, strength and weaponry made her accidentally hurt them when playing. Being an arcane dragon, their contuse's had little effect, or she was borne with a naturally high strength stat. Once, a coatl were too cocky and ended up bleeding so badly he had to see a healer. That's when they started nicknaming. It didn't help that her ID had 666 in it, and her hide the color of dried blood.

After a little while, the parents held their young ones away from Mary. She started journeying outside during the nights. She slept the days away. She had arguments with her parents and decided to move out. As she moved alone, with no need to hide from others, her routine shifted slowly back to hunting in daylight in stead of moonlight.

Mary reached the outskirts of the Starwood strand, she stopped. She could turn south-west and cross into Ice territory, but the cold didn't tempt her much. Also, her red hide would be a screaming target. She had grown in strength and length, and no one was likely to carelessly attack her, but as intimidating as she looked she was still a bit scared of contact with others. She did not believe she was the monster her fellow hatchlings believed she was. She gazed at the tempting, lush steppes ahead, but decided against it. Her strength lay in her claws, not in her wings. She had only flown minor distances up till this point. She altered her direction a bit, toward the scarred wasteland. There she would blend perfectly in with the landscape.

The smell were like that of a rabid dog, and made her puke at least 5 times the first day. Still she continued. Her routine turned back to backwards; hiding and sleeping where she tought were safe during the day, picking off leeches and journeying during the night. She hunted along the way, but ate only what she thought she recognized as edible. The crittes she hunted tasted, strangely enough, like normal meat. She met a male guardian, with gembond so green it looked like radiation, who helped her raise her level a little. He also guided her trough the Scarred Wasteland, never stopping to stay in a den.

The Wandering Contagion were not to Mary's liking. It was so bare, she had nowhere to hide. During the day she only half dozed. The night went by at a slower pace. Her pukings came less often, but her guide kept saying she were probably not made for living in these lands. After days of misery they arrived at the Rotrock Rim. The guardian seemed surprised she had not gotten used to the smell, but how could she? It invaded her nostrils and trout with every gasp, and the gasses in ti pained her lungs. Seeing her pain, the guardian decided against showing her the region's heart, the Wyrmwound. Their journey continued around the center, keeping close to the border but never passing it.

They took the shortest rout out of Plague territory, which were trough the Abiding Boneyard. Without a guide she would have been completely lost in just one day. They found a dying ridgeback. A hoard of serpents were already feeding on her broken wings, and had they had a healer she would still have been beyond saving. She had had a massive crash, from great height. A hoard of harpied had ambushed her, striking her out of balance. The harpies had not followed, but then again, they didn't have to. The broken skydancer begged them for mercy, and prayed silently to her god, the Tidelord, and that of her region, the Plaguebringer, that she would come to the one who would take her, and pleaded to join one of them quickly. Mary looked to the guardian, who nodded. They could not heal, but they could en the misery.

The guardian admitted he were not as strong as he seemed, and his claws were halfway rotted away. Mary had wondered at why he had only caught food, but always let her kill them. She had thought it were common courtesy in the region. She took put her biggest claw to finish it quickly. She had to look, or she might have to do more than one strike. The thin skydancer's neck broke, and were nearly completely severed. She had to have died quickly, for her eyes were not wide in horror. Like Mary's. Her heart was pumping, and her stomach sprayed with fresh red. She was Bloody Mary for real. A monster. She threw up again, in the bush where the serpents had been hiding since their arrival. They spent an entire day mourning, and when they left, there were only a tomb of gravel, with a stone tablet showing a carefully, claw-drawn skydancer leaning on it.

After what felt like years of torment, she stood again at the border of the Windsinger's land. She stepped into the swaying, healthy grass. The fresh air almost knocked her out. The smell of grass and seawater filled her nostrlils and made her even more dizzy. She felt like her chest was expanding. She puked for the last time.

A group of spirals spotted her quickly, even as she tried hiding. She cursed her bloody color. "Hi, look what I found!" The totally goldenrod fire-noodle screamed with joy to his ice-eyed circuit friend, who arrived only moments later. "She stinks" He commented, but smiled all the same. "Let's wash her" the first one agreed, as if she were not standing right there before them. She felt annoyed but relieved. She could have a bath! She must have smelled like death the way the skycats who lifted her on what seemed like a two-layered curtain held her up with their hind legs and covered their noses with their free paws. She had never moved so fast.

She had barely the time to think as she was transported from the top of the Reedcleft Ascent to the Sea of a Thousand Currents down by the Zephyr Steppes. Had someone told her she would visit 3 regions in one day she would have laughed, but here she was, turned totally upside-down out of the curtains and down in the sea. She figured she must have smelled worse than a month-old fish.

A water tundra joined her in the water. Had she closed her eyes, Mary would for sure thought she was from Fire. Her coat was as crimson as they could get, and her wings a fiery orange. "I'm glad you can swim, I bet the others forgot to ask" she said, coming closer. "Wings out". Mary did so, feeling like a hatchling again. She could wash herself, but did not protest. It was, after all, several weeks since she had touched clean water. She resisted the urge to drink the salty mixture. When the tundra was satisfied, the cloud cats came back with a clean curtain and swooped her up. This time they were fewer and used all their feet on the curtain.

Feeling more welcome, she started moving around on the steppes. Her routine changed to match that of the windies: be awake when you want, sleep when you want. Months passed by. She learnt how to basically defend for herself using her claws in more tactical and unpredictable ways, and how to use her element. The others joked about her being a killing machine, but did not see that what they thought of as a compliment actually hurt her. She knew they did not know, but her belly were for ever red because of that incident, and reminded her every time she looked in a mirror or puddle, or someone called her name.

Almost a year had passed. She had not found a mate, and started to miss one. The windies were always so lighthearted, she did not want to spoil their fun by saying she felt lonely. She knew Beorn, the XXY blood snowbelly had taken an interest in her, but they never really got to know each other. And their children might have gotten a pink belly. Pink and blood, ugh. But he had pretty ice eyes and a soft, deep voice. He looked and sounded like a regal leader. Yet they rarely spoke. Maybe he was too shy to be a true leader.

Some time later, a new blood XXY joined the clan. It was another female wildclaw. She had cooler, more exclusive genes. She had no visible tertiary, but she would sure look striking as hell when she grew up. She came from the orphanage, from what she could gather from her clan mates. She was somewhat smaller than Mary had been at her age, but her claws were just as sharp. The wind parents put wine corks on her claws before letting her play with the others. When she asked how they got that idea, they said they had heard about a wildclaw that had nearly killed a fellow hatchling that way, and since then they had "corked" the wildlaw hatchlings until they managed to control their limbs well enough not to endanger others. She felt the guilt flood in her. The newcomer had fun with the others. Jealousy danced in her belly along with the guilt.

As the week went by, the newcomer grew up to be as stunning as was expected. Her name was Yveltal. As she grew up, Beorn grew clearly more and more attached to her. They hung out every day, playing and training. Feling repaced and depressed, her thoughts started to wander. She could do as she had before, move away and forget her past. Except her red belly would never let her forget. She could confront Yveltal and tell her to stay away from Beorn, or confess her feelings to Beorn. Except those feelings had not been there until he fell in love with the youngling. How could she know if her feelings were real or just a fabric of lost attention?

Her feelings suddenly all jumbled up, she decided on the latter. She had never really loved him, but she had longed for a mate. That had to be it. She went home to her place in the den and started packing her belongings.

Yveltal, the new one, must have noticed this, because when she had almost finished, the young wildclaw waited in the hallway. "You're really leaving?" Her stare was unnerving and a bit provoking. "The two of you never hung out, and the others tell he was more into you than you were on him." Her thoughts exactly, but hearing those words from the teenager's jaws seemed too unfair. She raised to her full height, brisked her wings and snarled her words "Now that he is all over his tail for you, no one will notice. You should be happy to get rid of me, you'll have lair space for hatchlings." With those words she stormed past.

STILL WRITING
- journey to the border
-tells her story
- letter sisters
- still bitter

- have to fix the pictures of Beorn and Yveltal, I want those small profil-sizes ones

(coming up: click beorn or the new one's picture to go see their paralell lores. Sadly, it will take lots of time to write theirs, as they will get complicated)

@Kissie

Please post the bio's I've made for you here :) and Cutiepaw's as well :)

Then please ping Lisegathe (and note her to give me a ping when she's finished)

AliciaA

1160

September 28, 2015 05:19:53

@Kissie

Please post the bio's I've made for you here :) and Cutiepaw's as well :)

Then please ping Lisegathe (and note her to give me a ping when she's finished)

Last edited on Sep 28, 2015 05:23:52 by AliciaA

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13906718] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/139068/13906718_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] I've belonged to: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=98532]Kmpratt[/url] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=13582]Lisegathe[/url] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=20971]Kissie[/url] [center][size=5][size=7][b][font=vivaldi]Natteravn[/font][/b][/size][/size] [color=#563689]Natteravn (norwegian) is a term for the volunteers that patrol the streets in the weekends (evening/night time). They gets lost persons home and breaks up smaller fights, calling the police if there is bigger trouble. They are not a part of the police, but an organised group of parents and other volunteers. Directly translated his name would mean [i]someone who is out late[/i], or [i]night raven[/i].[/color] Natteravn bristled his feathers and launched to the sky. The moon hung low over the horizon and the sun's rays started to crawl over the edge behind him. He flew toward the moon without looking at it. His attention was on the ground below. It had been a good night, with no fights and only the yells of a few cheerful, drunken dragons had pierced the silence. They had behaved. He steered left and towards his family's den. The den was called Kmpratt, and was an middle-sized lair. It was more than spacey enough for it's current inhabitants, but Natteravn still thought about moving out. He loved Melusine's songs and could listen to them for hours without getting bored. She had come to the Viridian Labyrinth for inspiration to write more songs. Natteravn wondered what the other domains might be like, but never asked. When his town had two more night watches, he left. Travelling by night only, he kept his gaze on the ground below. When passing the Tangled Wood, his pace halved. Every night he had to break up smaller fights or save someone from an ambush. He learned from an old dragon that it was their way of testing the younglings. Their senses, strengths and weaknesses would be tested, then corrected and harnessed the following week. The Sea of a Thousand Currents was so completely lacking in violence, Natteravn enjoyed the pretty views and strolled on it's coast instead of swiftly flying over it. His path must have led to the western side of the domain, as the hills on his distant right seemed brown and dead. He averted his gaze to the playing sea dragons instead. Their joyful expressions never seemed to leave their faces. Enjoying his role as an observer, he watched the night bathing dragons the whole way to the wind domain's border. He stayed for a while and helped ward off a beastclan hoard. He tehen left, folliwing a columns of smoke in the west. His tail wind was so strong, he arrived in just a day, as if he were a wind dragon or favored by the Windsinger himself. There were many eyes on him as he wandered into the first city he saw, which were the Emberglow Heart. All was peaceful, and he slipped silently away in the dark. He woke no one. His next stop were the molten scar. There were some minor fights, but lots of arguments. Feeling baffled by the fiery hot temper of the inhabitants, Natteravn decided to stop by for a few days. The days tended to be the same, and the locals seemed to thrive this way. If they didn't get to blow off some steam, they would either get grumpy or have a flameout. Feeling in the danger zone during the day, Natteravn stayed out of their seemingly needed arguments. The nights were like most nights: some minor trouble to break up, and a few thefts to report. [/center] --------- ------- This guy is for sale!

Kissie

752

September 28, 2015 05:54:12

I've belonged to:
Kmpratt
Lisegathe
Kissie

Natteravn

Natteravn (norwegian) is a term for the volunteers that patrol the streets in the weekends (evening/night time). They gets lost persons home and breaks up smaller fights, calling the police if there is bigger trouble. They are not a part of the police, but an organised group of parents and other volunteers. Directly translated his name would mean someone who is out late, or night raven.

Natteravn bristled his feathers and launched to the sky. The moon hung low over the horizon and the sun's rays started to crawl over the edge behind him. He flew toward the moon without looking at it. His attention was on the ground below. It had been a good night, with no fights and only the yells of a few cheerful, drunken dragons had pierced the silence. They had behaved. He steered left and towards his family's den.

The den was called Kmpratt, and was an middle-sized lair. It was more than spacey enough for it's current inhabitants, but Natteravn still thought about moving out. He loved Melusine's songs and could listen to them for hours without getting bored. She had come to the Viridian Labyrinth for inspiration to write more songs. Natteravn wondered what the other domains might be like, but never asked.

When his town had two more night watches, he left. Travelling by night only, he kept his gaze on the ground below. When passing the Tangled Wood, his pace halved. Every night he had to break up smaller fights or save someone from an ambush. He learned from an old dragon that it was their way of testing the younglings. Their senses, strengths and weaknesses would be tested, then corrected and harnessed the following week.

The Sea of a Thousand Currents was so completely lacking in violence, Natteravn enjoyed the pretty views and strolled on it's coast instead of swiftly flying over it. His path must have led to the western side of the domain, as the hills on his distant right seemed brown and dead. He averted his gaze to the playing sea dragons instead. Their joyful expressions never seemed to leave their faces. Enjoying his role as an observer, he watched the night bathing dragons the whole way to the wind domain's border.

He stayed for a while and helped ward off a beastclan hoard. He tehen left, folliwing a columns of smoke in the west. His tail wind was so strong, he arrived in just a day, as if he were a wind dragon or favored by the Windsinger himself.

There were many eyes on him as he wandered into the first city he saw, which were the Emberglow Heart. All was peaceful, and he slipped silently away in the dark. He woke no one.

His next stop were the molten scar. There were some minor fights, but lots of arguments. Feeling baffled by the fiery hot temper of the inhabitants, Natteravn decided to stop by for a few days. The days tended to be the same, and the locals seemed to thrive this way. If they didn't get to blow off some steam, they would either get grumpy or have a flameout. Feeling in the danger zone during the day, Natteravn stayed out of their seemingly needed arguments. The nights were like most nights: some minor trouble to break up, and a few thefts to report.

This guy is for sale!

Last edited on Sep 28, 2015 05:54:54 by Kissie

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=12881622] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/128817/12881622_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] [center][color=#110c31][b][font=vivaldi][size=5]R[/size][/font]in[/b] is named after Rin Okumura, one of Satan's twin sons. They had a human mother who died at their birth, and a father in hell. Only his brother knew the story. Rin did not know until he were was a teenager. For his adventures, please watch Blue Exorcist (ao no exorcist?), but imagine his blue demon flames a bit different: This is not the Rin who remained a human in the end. This is the Rin that got thrown into an alternative universe, and after his big struggles he could master his flames. He grew wings of blue flame and soared in the sky. When he got cold he summoned a thick layer of feathers to cover his warm heart. His kind and playful spirit is fully alive, and his love for his friends and brother is as strong as ever. He's still an excellent cook, but specialize in sushi. He still loves to fight. He also loves his brother Hyperion. [/color] [url=http://rorita-sakura.deviantart.com/art/chibi-Rin-okumura-280060009][img]http://orig04.deviantart.net/1da6/f/2012/018/7/b/rin_okumura_by_dragon_lover_girl14-d4mqnop.png[/img][/url] [size=1]Picture belongs to Rorita-Sakura on Deviantart[/size][/center]

Kissie

752

September 28, 2015 06:07:01

Rin is named after Rin Okumura, one of Satan's twin sons. They had a human mother who died at their birth, and a father in hell. Only his brother knew the story. Rin did not know until he were was a teenager.

For his adventures, please watch Blue Exorcist (ao no exorcist?), but imagine his blue demon flames a bit different: This is not the Rin who remained a human in the end.

This is the Rin that got thrown into an alternative universe, and after his big struggles he could master his flames. He grew wings of blue flame and soared in the sky. When he got cold he summoned a thick layer of feathers to cover his warm heart.

His kind and playful spirit is fully alive, and his love for his friends and brother is as strong as ever. He's still an excellent cook, but specialize in sushi. He still loves to fight. He also loves his brother Hyperion.

Picture belongs to Rorita-Sakura on Deviantart

Ths subspecies was made by Cutiepaws, picture and personal text by Aliciaa. [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15636266] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/156363/15636266_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] [center]Subspecies: Haunted Stone Orb Primary: Mulberry to Royal Crystal Secondary: Mulberry to Royal Facet Tertiary: Magenta to Royal Smoke Flight: Water, Shadow, Arcane, Ice [item=Haunted Stone Orb] These dragons are souls previously trapped inside Haunted Stone Orbs, who managed to swap places with dragons who carelessly touched the smoky surface of the prison that held them. As they no longer have a body of their own, they take over the soulless dragon bodies left behind when the souls were swapped. However, they are unused to living in the outside world, and quite scared to be without the crystalline purple walls and soothing wisps of smoke that they got used to during decades or even centuries of captivity. In order to feel at home in their new body, the freed souls modify their new bodies to feel safe; crystalline purple scales and wings to contain them and streaks of smoke to protect them. Of the eleven flights of Sornieth, only four elements let a dragon's soul leave its body without dying. The first is water; the soul becomes liquid that can mold into any shape. The second is arcane; a soul of magic needs no body. The third is ice; it hibernates. The fourth is shadow; souls of dragons from the trickster flight become shadow itself.[/center] [center][img]https://librarianlovesbooks.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/wings1.jpg[/img] [b]She grew [i]wings[/i]. She could [i]fly[/i]. She was a [i]dragon[/i]. [/b][/center]

Kissie

752

September 28, 2015 06:09:08

Ths subspecies was made by Cutiepaws, picture and personal text by Aliciaa.

Subspecies: Haunted Stone Orb

Primary: Mulberry to Royal Crystal

Secondary: Mulberry to Royal Facet

Tertiary: Magenta to Royal Smoke

Flight: Water, Shadow, Arcane, Ice

These dragons are souls previously trapped inside Haunted Stone Orbs, who managed to swap places with dragons who carelessly touched the smoky surface of the prison that held them. As they no longer have a body of their own, they take over the soulless dragon bodies left behind when the souls were swapped.

However, they are unused to living in the outside world, and quite scared to be without the crystalline purple walls and soothing wisps of smoke that they got used to during decades or even centuries of captivity. In order to feel at home in their new body, the freed souls modify their new bodies to feel safe; crystalline purple scales and wings to contain them and streaks of smoke to protect them.

Of the eleven flights of Sornieth, only four elements let a dragon's soul leave its body without dying. The first is water; the soul becomes liquid that can mold into any shape. The second is arcane; a soul of magic needs no body. The third is ice; it hibernates. The fourth is shadow; souls of dragons from the trickster flight become shadow itself.

She grew wings. She could fly. She was a dragon.

Last edited on Sep 28, 2015 06:09:58 by Kissie

@Lisegathe, see the post aliciaa pinged me in.

Kissie