Creative Corner

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PqNKAlM.png[/img][/center] ------------ [center][i][size=4][font=century]The sound of shouts and calls echo across the prairie. The sun shines down, reminding you of the ever-bearing presence of the Lightweaver here in the Sunbeam Plains. You approach a set of fences and ramshackle wooden buildings, curious. A vulture perches atop a sign: [b] Sunspur Ranch.[/b] [/center] [columns][emoji=deer skull size=1][size=4][b] Welcome to Sunspur Saloon, Traveler! [/b][emoji=deer skull size=1] This is a "lore dump" for every cowboy I've written, acting as sort of a 'back up' system if people lose their original cowboys. If you're new 'round here, I hope you enjoy. If you'd like to share your own cowboys, you are welcome to! [nextcol] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/static/cms/familiar/art/28137.png[/img] [/columns] [i][b]How do I get one of them there cowboys?[/b][/i] Easy, partner! Come on down to Sunspur Ranch and put yousself on the pinglist for when slots are open, or cowboys are up for sale. Notice: All cowboys belong to the respective owner! Please do not take the concepts they purchased fair and square, cowboy. ------ Art by [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=126719]RubyZoisite[/url]

[center][b][size=5][size=5][color=#C07A2C]Lawmen[/color][/size][/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/DQO6ODH.png[/img][/center] --------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014723]Bat, Owned by [b]Inkfrog.[/b][/url][/size] Notes given before writing: [i]Name: Bat Traits: Kindhearted - stern - persistent Job: Sheriff Extra notes for your cowboy: He comes from a poor family, and understands what it's like to need to steal to survive. He also got his name from the saying "Like a bat out of Hell". He's more lenient on people who committed crime because they were desperate or needed to. But he is also the type to hold grudges, for a long time too. I'm probably going to buy an outlaw/ someone to be on the receiving end of his grudge, eventually so if there could be some references to one that'd be great! (sorry for the paragraph, just got real inspired!)[/i] [quote]Retribution dawns with the sun peekin’ through little windows, coatin’ rusted bars and drawin’ shadows up the long wall of the cell. Another outlaw slumped over, whisperin’ to the folk who’ll listen - The [i]Sheriff [/i]- [i]he came at me like a bat out of hell.[/i] Sheriff Bat’s a stern one. Persistent, like a long run after prey that’s gettin’ slow and real tired-like, eventually collapsin’ out of exhaustion - from the chase, or inevitable doom. He rides hisself on dusk-til-dawn until whatever he’s chasin’ falls right over, beggin’ to rest in jail. Once he sets his teeth in, ain’t nothin’ throwin’ him loose. But he’s different, too. Knows the law and life ain’t fair, ain’t kind to the desperate, no sir. He comes up from the dirt, poor and starvin’ for scraps, makin’ his family proud when he done pulled up his boots and rode out with a shinin’ badge. He made hisself a promise - ain’t never gonna clap a hungry man in irons - a feller does what his stomach tells him, ain’t nothin’ bad about it. He’s a helpin’ hand to those willin’ to reach up and grasp it, let him pull you up outta the mud and into the light. Yet his heart’s got a cavern, real deep, and grudges run river-like through the depths of it, true as the sun does shine. Question is - where does that river[i] lead, [/i]Sheriff, and from where does it [i]spring?[/i] [center][i]"Keep runnin, cowboy - I got all day."[/i][/center] Sheriff Bat embraces his name and legend, even fancy hisself a fan of those little creatures he's named for. He ain't hunt 'em, no. He visits the caves, drops a bit o' feed, and memorializes those who ain't gettin' up for the day no more. He also keeps a trinket most unusual - an hourglass. He watches the sand pour and pour, calmin' his breathin' with the seconds collectin' at the bottom. Then he turns it over. What's he keepin' time for? Nobody knows. [/quote] ------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59744898]Dallas, owned by [b]AngelicTofu[/b] [/url][/size] [quote]Ain’t never been a Lawman cruder and ruder than Dallas. He’ll go out of his way to cause a rootin’ tootin’ ruckus where he goes, and he’ll get away with it, too. He’s a snake behind a badge with a penchant for chaos, a rattler with a fine bite and fresh venom. Sure, a few outlaws will get round up now and then, just so Dallas can keep his cushy job and comfortable income. Makes no difference to him the attitude: kind or cruel, they’ll be in chains and behind bars in his little podunk cells. Most of 'em, despite the nature of their crimes, get a harsh punishment done by dragons other than Dallas. He ain't one to get his pretty little claws dirty, now. He likes hisself a nice desk job where he can sign off evils with a flick of a pen. A nasty reputation follows him around. Rumors whisper he’s done gone and put some good men in the dirt to keep hisself safe from any kind of retributions. Marshals come and go, turnin' the other way with a fine coin bribe. Anyone who doesn't take the gentle offer of gold takes an unfortunate accident that may end up in a funeral. Someday he’ll get what’s comin’, that’s for sure. [center][i]"Coin or blood, I'll take it."[/i][/center] Dallas is filled to the brim with a greedy desire for bulgin' pockets. He hoards any and all kinds of coins, fillin' his trunks til he got hisself xxa rather large cave with all the extravagance he can afford. Whispers tell he ain't never returned a single stolen coin, just takes the xxoutlaw's findings for his own self. [/quote] ----------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59370553]Hart, owned by [b]Biagio[/b] [/url][/size] [quote]It is Hart's dream to one day become a real, certified deputy marshal. Unfortunately, she's a little too clumsy for the job. She regularly mishandles evidence -- not out of corruption -- but out of good old fashion lack o' smarts. Hart was born under the wrong moon, the wrong stars, the wrong time, and therefore has the worst luck of all time. Hart's got a good heart besides her rather unendowed mind, and a good sight on the barrel when it comes to scuff ups with those south of the law. She tends to err on the side of caution and disavows unsavory violence, choosin' diplomatic routes when she can. And when it comes to diplomacy, she's done gone and got herself a proper read of the tactic. She's been known to talk up townsfolk to the stars with her inspirational speeches. Outlaws bend quick to her silver tongue and laugh along with her well-timed jokes. Uneasy atmospheres are dispelled with a single word, as if by magic. She may not be no deputy marshal, but Hart's got the real grit to do what's right and keep innocent folk safe. [center][i]"Nobody needs to get hurt."[/i][/center] Hart's got a love of the bright and shiny, and tends to take trips to general stores in search of cheerful objects to lift her spirits. She hoards 'em in her bunkhouse for when she's under a spell of despair, playin' with 'em to get right back into her happy place. [/quote] -------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59272123]Courtright, owned by [b]Tala2121[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Courtright serves as as a lawman, keeping her clan mates in line and following the general rule of moral law. She often finds herself in a position of leadership, whether it be as an enforcer or a general warrior of note. Though her profession keeps her keen on rules, she often bends or breaks them when the timing is right. She's a fair claw, and goes easy on first offenders or mistaken felons. She's more likely to spend a spot of talk before clapping irons on a suspect. Outside of being a lawman, Courtright collects older books and tomes on various historical events. Her library may be small, but it is a mighty collection of words from famous authors. She keeps herself well-read and up-to-date on the happenings around town, often squeezing the local gossips for the newest rumors. If bared down to her heart and soul, one would find a deep, resounding moral goodness. Courtright is far from corrupt, taking pride in being a paladin of the righteous and a defender of the weak. If asked what her goal in life was, well, Courtright would tell it to you straight: Bein' a spot of good on this wicked plain. [center][i]"You're safe with me."[/i][/center] Courtright collects pocket watches and historical texts. She keeps a perfectly-timed golden pocket watch on her at all times, often found taking it out to measure her day in perfect portions. Her historical collection is boldly stated by famous authors, including a few from the Beastclans and other flights. [/quote] ----------------

[center][b][size=5][size=5][color=#C07A2C]Outlaw[/color][/size][/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/DQO6ODH.png[/img][/center] --------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67695777]Silas, owned by [b]Snaphance[/b][/url] [/size] [quote] Time seems different out in the waste. Never seems to run like it usually does, seems to almost melt under that blazin’ sun, run down into the dirt like sweat off a rancher’s brow. Days turn like a broken wheel, rattlin’ as they pass. Silas is no stranger to time. He chews his hours slow, mullin’ over minutes, takin’ plenty of thought to each and every action he takes. Now, fellas ‘round here, they don’t seem to understand the will of a patient outlaw. They tend to run around willy-nilly, unbuckled like a clock ticking too fast, and -- well, they get caught. Silas waits. And waits. And waits. Each consideration is made like a slow motion of a chess piece. He hides in shadow, watches the bankmen load their trucks, and always seems to find the right moment to commit his vivid crimes and come out clean. It ain’t cooled his head none, though. Catch him in a round of drinks, blazin’ and boastin’, cocky smile painted across his maw. Sure does attract a few fillies, but he’s got a rope tied elsewhere. He counts in his head, the minutes, the seconds, the hours - they burn as they pass. For every moment of waitin’ out lawmen, he’s running for his call and beggin’ days to turn just a little faster. And when he’s in that moment, sand tricklin’ down the hourglass, claws tangled in Caleb’s, feet swingin’ from a dark porch and chuckles rumblin’ from chests, shy looks and heated cheeks, the brush of a soul against his - Well, he’s done waitin’. [center][i]"I've got time."[/i][/center] Sllas collects time. He hoards moments with Caleb, tucking them away in his mind, keeping them like keepsakes, much like the pocket watches that line his hoard. Hourglasses, clocks, anything that keeps time is collected and kept in pristine condition. They keep perfect time in perfect moments. Silas sits and watches, listens to them tick, and waits as they run down, down, for when he'll be there next, by his side.[/quote] --------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67660000]Jess, owned by [b]Jamira[/b][/url][/size] Notes given before writing: [i]One request is that perhaps she was a rancher in the past, but lost her flock of rambra to an ambush by a gang of outlaws when she was driving them to market, and that was her only source of income. She now intends to hunt down every last one of the outlaws, and has become an outlaw herself by doing whatever it takes to get vengeance while resorting to petty crime to get food and money. Sort of like a bounty hunter, but a self-serving bounty hunter who's not afraid to play dirty and break the law to get to her enemies. Other than that, artist's choice and I don't mind if you change some things around if you feel that they might work better a different way. :) [/i] [quote]Better make your peace, cowboy. Ain’t nothin’ deadlier in the world than a woman with a devil in her heart. She rides these sun-blazed plains not like she owns the whole prairie, but like the prairie owns her. She belongs to the rattlers and vipers, she’s one with the venom that courses ‘neath the soil, the grit you find in the dirt when you’ve been knocked clear off your feet. She’s risen from the night, a long shadow curling behind her, followin’ as she counts down the names that did her harm. Jess, she was. A rancher, runnin’ up to market with her crowd of rambra, ‘til some unfortunate outlaws done took her livelihood. Left her penniless, desperate enough to turn to petty crimes and shirkin’ coin to get by. That does somethin’ to a cowboy. The black collects like mud under porches, dredgin’ up til it smells somethin’ awful. Til it’s in the sole of your shoe, the soul of your heart. It hollows you out. Lets scavengers roost on what’s left inside you. Lets the long shadow swallow you whole. You find yourself understandin’ that your bones were meant for the sun, your skin was meant to rot, and there’s nothin’ tying you down - no shiny badge, no feelin’ of guilt. Now Jess flies free, higher than anyone who thinks they can touch the sun - because she flies knowin’ that she’ll fall. Ain’t nothin’ deadlier in the world than a woman with a devil in her heart, son, because she ain’t got nothin’ left to lose. [center]"Surrender. Not that I'll spare you."[/center] Jess ain't collect nothin' petty like coin. She collects names. Names of the fallen, names of the ones she's done put in the dirt, names off wanted posters and out of the mouths of scared folk. They weigh against her soul like the momentos of them she keeps in her packs. One item, taken right from the coolin' body, hidden away among her things. To remind her - not that she's [i]proud[/i] of what she's become - but that death comes for us all. [/quote] ------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014726]Colt, owned by [b]Inkfrog[/b][/url].[/size] Notes given before writing: [i]Name: Colt Traits: Cocky/calculating/loud Additional notes: Bat's ex-Best friend, what he did is up to you, but it should probably be something decently forgivable, as they eventually have a long talk, and make up.[/i] [quote]Keep it quick, keep it safe. That’s Colt’s way. His cocky smile has been pasted on wanted boards ‘round these parts, on account of his sticky claws. He’s a boastful one, almost getting hisself caught by the loud and proud way he puffs his chest and belts his story. It’s a tough one, filled with big, bad adversaries and mythical deeds. Truth be told, he’s just a smart little thief with guts. He takes the risk required for the job, often grabbin’ hisself a posse and hittin’ big banks with the ease of one so endowed in the ego department. Might be accurate that he takes his winnin’s to the poorest folk, but he absolutely keeps a pouch or two to hisself. Colt knows the art of stealin’ like he knows his own image reflected back in a particularly shiny coin. You’ll know him yourself, partner, by the way your hoard’s missin’ a good helpin’ of the valuable items and there ain’t no trace of who done it. Oh, when a pretty filly or fella comes up and bemoans his dastardly ways, he promises to clean up. But he ain’t find nobody worth givin’ up his arts for. Not yet, anyhow. Rumor has it he had a friend, once. More than just a greedy member of his posse with quick hands - a real, actual friend. They musta split, because Colt rides solo. But he’s got a cast to his eyes, even when he’s grinnin’ through another tale of his escapades, some shadow of his past he can’t shake. Now everybody knows his next big plan. It’s spread far and wide that he’ll rob hisself a bank like no other - magically sealed - and come out haulin’ gold. Now why’d he go and tell everyone, partner? Why’d he let the lawmen gather ‘round and prepare? Maybe it’s the thrill, maybe it’s the challenge. Or maybe. Maybe he’s lookin’ to send a message to that shadow that follows him. [center][i]"Give up the gold and nobody gets hurt."[/i][/center] Colt collects not only coin, but his own wanted posters. He's known to go out of his way to grab a poster with a particularly good renderin' of hisself, hoistin' it on the wall of his lair to loudly proclaim his own beauty and how large his current bounty is. He's got a line of 'em - from the beginnin', the paltry sum and bad sketch - to the end, the considerable cost of his capture. It's art, he says. [/quote] ------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59398639]Tombstone, owned by [b]Briargrove[/b][/url][/size] [quote]A vulture’s cry and the sound of dust settlin’. The smell of gunsmoke and fear - the shine of a badge with a hole punched through. The final silence at the end of a raucous roar of a blazing duel. There’s poetry in that, Tombstone thinks. There’s a poem found in the uncurlin’ of the snakes in the light of the sun, slitherin’ round bones as the mountain cats cry. He likes to think his hand is with the wind - fast and unstoppable - and his mind is among the stars, he’s so darn proud of hisself and his own art. He leaves his stanzas to burn under the sun in a rictus of the final fight where they had no chance of winnin’. There’s an art to outrunnin’ death, and Tombstone is a master. He rides solo with no attachments draggin’ round, he’s a ghost on the prairie and plain. His smile’s gone crooked from too many drinks, but he’s steady as stone when it comes to a shootout. He done made many a widow in his career and has taken to callin’ his weapon the widow-maker in honors, irreverent and dubious in his ways. He’s charmin’ and has the confidence of one who’s put many an enemy in the dirt - some call him irresistible, like a distant call of adventure one knows is about to go south. Rumor has it he done has a nemesis gunnin’ for him - and it’s written in the standin’ stones that he’ll fall for his dastardly ways. Now ain’t that just poetic? [center][i]"I am the snake in the grass, make no mistake."[/i][/center] Tombstone ain't in it for the gold. No, he's in it for the glory. He wants his 'accomplishments' written in the history books so ain't nobody forget his name. He's a dragon, through and through, but he tends to collect broken items without thinkin' too hard about how they reflect his own brokenness. [/quote] -------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59370555]Calamity, owned by [b]RubyZoisite.[/b][/size] [/url] [quote] Calamity's the best flyer 'round these parts. She's got the know of the wind and how to use it, collaboratin' with it like they was best buds. She rides fast and hard, outpacin' all sorts of law-types in her quick escapes from whatever calamity she's caused next. She's devious and keen, often strikin' before the lawmen get off their stools and out before they get a look at her. Sure, she's on some wanted posters, but she don't let that stop her from her escapades. She and her band got the skill to shake down prime targets and fat bank tellers. Give her an 'unbreakable' vault, and she'll have it open in no time flat. The only reason why she doesn't own the west is she's a terrible shot. She ain't gonna hit no broadside of a barn with her wretched sight. She needs them glasses to even decipher what's what, and even then she ain't got the stuff to find the right end of a weapon. What she don't got in violent skill, she makes up for with her dangerous mind. She often chooses a good stick o' dynamite at the right time instead of a well-aimed shot. She's an explosive one, that's for sure. [center][i]"Put 'em up!"[/i][/center] Like all good outlaws, Calamity's got a hankerin' for gold and shiny ore. She'll stop at nothin' to get her hands on a good hunk a gold. She stuffs it all in her pockets, sailin' the wind despite the weight, and shoves it into her outlaw's den to the brimmin'. She's a careful spender, and has got herself a good pot of wealth hidden in those caves.[/quote] ---------------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59272120]Jesse, owned by [b]clockworkworm[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Jesse - The wild woman of the west. She runs her own band of outlaws, striking at the rich for her own amusement and profit, never staying in one place for long lest she be caught. Her only constant companion, the only person she can't kill, is Koran, her partner in love and in crime. Her home is on the run and make-shift camps and roasted meat nights under the stars and wondering if today is the day she'll be caught by the lawmen. The excitement, the fear, the rush of getting away with it -- only these feelings can sate her vicious heart. Towns have put up wanted posters with her face and outfit plastered over them. When she rides in with her band, the good folk take cover. Some banks offer up their coffers simply to avoid the oncoming violence. Many a time she's rattled carriages full of gold for their whole stock without firing a single shot, simply from her reputation alone. Anyone unlucky enough to get the end of her barrel is left a messy corpse. She spends no time on pleasantries or fairness, only striking fast and taking advantage of every open opportunity. She's left a trail of dead lawmen and heroes behind, riding onward into darkness with a willing heart. [center][i]"This ain't no place for no hero."[/i][/center] Jesse hoards gold - piles and piles of it. She loves to rip through mining towns for raw ore then shake down smelters for her shining bars of money. She spends her rare moments in her den often lazing on her hoard, ordering her bandmates around and plotting the next attack. [/quote] -------------------

[center][b][size=5][size=5][color=#C07A2C]Cowboy[/color][/size][/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/DQO6ODH.png[/img][/center] [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014727]Butch, owned by [b]CaptainAnabelle[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Ain’t nobody accuse Butch of bein’ [i]soft.[/i] Tough as iron, they say, sharp as a bowl full o’ nails. Muscles ripplin’ under her hide, a strength in every step, the lay of her gaze unflinchin’ ‘gainst nothin’ but the sun. She hauls round sacks of grain like buckets of feathers, throwin’ up the fine wooden beams of buildin’s like nobody’s business. Her tongue is just as tough, a lick of fire for anyone out of line. She’s fine, too, feathers all prim and pretty. Many a filly been tryin’ to find what makes her tick. Maybe it’s the grit of it all, the wildness of the frontier itself. Each day dawnin’ with untold dangers, snakes coilin’ midst the grass, but the promise of somethin’ independent. Somethin’ great and echoin’ and so damn free. Free to be herself, free to be her [i]soul.[/i] Find her ridin’ into dusk, yowlin’ with the rest o’ the riders and ranchers, racin’ ‘round like a kiddo again. Ha! Watch her stride, so confident and bold, makin’ everyone look up from their cards when she stomps on in the saloon. She knows who she is, what she is, and ain’t nobody gonna make her feel low-down. No sir! She’s proud of who she is, proud enough to bellow when her darlin’ comes round, makes her blush and blather, gets her lookin’ down and kicking the dirt she’s so shy. And that gaze of steel, well, it melts like ice on the plain. Her shoulders slacken into another hug ‘round that love of hers and she knows it, knows it true - ain’t nothin’ she adores more. Ain’t nobody accuse Butch of bein’ [i]soft.[/i] (To her face, anyhow!) [center][i]"You muss one hair on her head, cowboy, you hit the dirt."[/i][/center] Butch keeps a healthy hoard on the outside. Gold, steel, nothin' soft and sentimental. But, if you somehow make it beyond (Bless you! She'll snap you in half if she finds you, cowboy!) you'll find her collection of what her darlin' has given. Soft memories collect under the surface of the pretty momentos, the hand-sewn blankets, the lovely letters. She keeps it all close at hand, close to her heart, and protects it all behind a mask so ain't nobody gonna break what she holds most dear.[/quote] ------------ [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67616222]West, owned by [b]CringeCowboy[/b][/url][/size] [quote] Ain’t no easy path to inner peace. West'll guide you with the truth: You gotta go to war first. It’s a war against demons - the ones that haunt your mind, claw their way into your heart, throw you off-kilter like an ill wind. Feelin’ them jitter up your spine in moments when you’re feelin’ weak, almost like bein’ too late under that blazin’ shine. They drag your bones down into the dirt. They’ll bury you, if you let ‘em. West knows this like he knows his own wings. Long moments in the dark has brought him a new appreciation for the light outside. His past is curlin’ up as a kid, frightened by the shakin’ of his own thoughts, the buzz and bur of a miscellania of fear. Ain’t no way to live, ain’t no way to be. And ain’t nobody had a life where they ain’t needed a hand-up, a deep hug, a careful word. West was taught his way, keep in line by a family he found his own self. You can fit in, partner, if you know where to go, where to look, who to ask. See, as West will tell you, fate takes a certain pride in comin’ together all puzzle-like. The world’s in a balance, night and day, and you ain’t gonna suffer no eternity in the dark, no sir. Eventually, the dawn will come and be brighter for the difference. Nowadays West is guidin’ others, takin’ them under his wing, providin’ shade to those amidst the fire of their own minds. He’s got a word or two for the rangers, the ranchers, the frightened and scared -- You ain’t alone, partner. [center][i]"If I cannot find peace, I will make it."[/i][/center] West is a nomad, and as such he takes what he can carry. He takes the trinkets and momentos, keepin' his family of multitudes in his mind. No matter what town he blows into - he comes out with reminders and memories held in his packs and in his heart.[/quote] ----------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014729]Bill, owned by [b]TikindiDragon[/b][/url][/size] [quote] Every frame is a painting. He sees it before himself - a frozen snapshot. His shot is mid-air and his challenger has yet to pull the trigger. Their shadows are short in the sight of the high-noon sun. The eyes of his opponent are sharp, crystal-clear, reflectin’ the knowledge that they just lost. Bill is the only ‘slinger known to have two weapons -- his trusty shooter and his paintbrush. He attacks the canvas daily, drawing thick lines of color until the duel stands out against the background of the brown of the town he’s laid his enemy to rest in. Folk ain’t understand the color he sees in each moment, the way he sees life as an art to be enjoyed, moments to be captured forever under his brush. Fellers who underestimate his skill due to his ‘artistic tendencies’ always find themselves corrected in the afterlife. He’s wily and slick, and known to charm the fightin’ out of a foe and the faint into a filly. Confidence puffs his chest until he’s fit to burst, paradin’ his moments of victory to be not only heard, but seen. But, then inevitably - time keeps on runnin' and so does he. He ain’t stoppin’ for no art shows, neither. He’s a fire in his feet that sets him ‘round the plain, findin’ new troubles to stir up or put down. He knows, soul-deep, that there’s more seconds out there that are alive with color and fill him up til he’s spillin’ life out onto that blank space - he just has to catch ‘em. [center][i]"Life is as vivid and colorful as you make it."[/i] [/center] He hoards his own paintings, of course. Art supplies and coupla' coin for the road, stuffin' his pouches full of brushes and canvas to capture whatever happens next. He never gets rid of a brush, no sir. He carries them 'round like his count of challengers he's beat. It tells the same story - a victory.[/quote] ------------------------------ [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67616223]Serendipity, owned by [b]TastyPastry[/b][/url][/size] [quote]A wind blows into the town, rattlin' signs and rustlin' skirts. They see her and smile, a blessin' they know by sight or by rumor. Serendipity, they call her, on account of her bringin' in much needed supplies. Mostly medical, and a heapin' helpin' of advice to go alongside. Careful to be loud, stranger, as she can't see. She's got a gaze unlike any other, and she tends to hide her eyes underneath a heavy cloth. Oh, they like to tell stories and tales 'bout those, whisperin' that she stared too hard into the sun. Others simply take it as another sign that she's somethin' special, all right. She ain't one for taverns. She nestles where it's cozy, usually beneath a copse of those sun-burnt trees out on the plain. The blaze of light and heat don't bother her none, she sits curled up and dozes like she's restin' in the shadow of a canopy. She distributes her medicine to all who come and seek her help, never missin' anybody nor rushin' any soul. She takes her time, givin' comfort to each and all. Special, indeed... And the folks who ain't hurt on the outside, well, they tend to drift towards her just to talk. She radiates like the sun above, a subtle wind of peace and safety. May it be her immense size, her hardened muscle, the way her gait whispers of some hidden talent honed in battle - or is it her gentle, sing-song voice that guides you when the nights are particularly dark? Long ago, we were guided by radiant stars like hers that fight back the void. Must be an echo in our bones, a callin' of ancient times, a recognition of the way she feels like home. And she must move on eventually, inevitably, taking herself elsewhere along the plains. An awful lot of us 'round here need somethin' like her, somethin' that reminds us of a feelin' we once knew. A feeling of serendipity. [center][i]"Rest, now. All is well. All will be well, too."[/i][/center] Serendipity collects fables and stories, not for her own pleasure - but for the comfort of those who seek her 'round the campfire when it gets dark and spooky. She'll let you curl up 'gainst her bulk and doze as another tale is told in her lilting tone, drawin' you to dream of a mystical and magical happy conclusion... [/quote] ---------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014735]Reeves, owned by [b]OmniPortrait[/url][/b][/size] [quote]When it comes down to it, it’s a roll of the dice. Unknown to Reeves’ opponents, the dice is loaded. They say if you draw up a plan that you ain't understand your own self, ain’t no way your rival gonna know anythin’ bout it neither. Apply this little bit of advice to damn near everythin’ and you got Reeves in one swoop - a wild card, through and through. Find them at the dusty tables of packed saloons, dealin’ worn cards and rollin’ wooden dice until the sun turns the sky red. Spot our ‘slinger round the backroads, croonin’ over their winnin’, ain’t gonna have any accusations of cheatin’ from no low-down player who thinks they can beat their draw. Reeves ain’t no faintin’ filly - they got the skills and the guts to prove it. Find their fine history drawn up on tombstones ‘round the prairie, holdin’ vigil over bad men six feet deep. Hear their tales over the campfires and huddle a little closer if you done got a blackness in your heart. Reeves is slick, deadly, fast - ain’t no rival stood up to duel and lived to tell the tale. Tell me, cowboy. What chance you think you got in a game against Reeves? Take the word from Death itself, who has yet to win. You ain’t got a single card in your hand and Reeves is about to call. [center][i]"Draw!"[/i][/center] Reeves collects chess pieces. Cracked or clean, they pick 'em up and haul 'em 'round their windin' road, always keen on a game or two against those who play. Reeves ain't one to concede -- they are set on winnin' every time the pieces hit the board. Rumor has it Reeves is trainin'. For what, one can only guess... [/quote] -------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64014728]Cassidy, owned by [b]Hessonite[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Cassidy might just be the only undertaker to make sure that all her clientele are quite literally ‘pushin’ daisies.’ When the sun’s down, she’ll be out workin’ over the dirt for another fallen cowboy, another story endin’ without Cassidy much interested in the tale. She’s more interested in what you are now you’re part of the plain - fertilizer. Her little garden is downright burstin’ with all sorts of color, despite the dry air ‘round these parts. When spring’s done tastin’ the air and has come out of its warren, she can be found plantin’ up a fresh batch of blooms until a rainbow is crossin’ the graveyard gardens. Daylight means her plants are happy - and that means Cassidy is happy, too, and most likely covered head to toe in dirt for some reason or another. Shove in hand and old leather gloves on, Cassidy’s baskin’ in the good sweatin’ work of havin’ somethin’ to do. She ain’t one for sittin’ round, no sir. She makes the most of it. Strain and stress find themselves potted beneath pansies and mollified by magnolia, while her job rests easy on her mind as simply another way of diggin’ and plantin’. You better keep clear of her garden, cowboy, and watch your step near danger - lest you desire to become one with her botanicals. [center][i]"Your story's for the tombstone, cowboy, but your body's for the dirt."[/i][/center] As an avid gardener and a dragon, Cassidy would be remiss not to collect little memories from each of her particular projects. She takes petals of well-to-do flowers and dries 'em for her little journals, keepin' track of the peculiarities she finds in each season of plantin'. [/quote] --------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59272124]Kova, owned by[b] Metus[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Kova. What can be said about him that he won't say himself? He's a lazy rancher, often laying out in the sun as cattle wander off. He spends more effort on his jokes than he does his wranglin'. He likes a good boast and a good whiskey. Get him drunk and he'll round up the whole camp with one of his selfish stories, going on and on about that one time he saved a carriage or a bank or a bunch of innocent folk. It's all dust, if you know him well. He grew up on Sunspur Ranch as one of the slower ranchers to ever be trained. Despite all his bluffin', he's a good claw with a genuine heart. Long nights on the plain are met with campfire displays where he makes wild gestures during another long-winded story. He gets a certain joy of spookin' his fellows with a new urban legend, but appreciates a good round of laughter, too. Just give him a boot and he'll go out of his way to make up for his lazy ways, but turn your eye and he's right back to restin'. [center][i]"Ain't harmin' nobody."[/i][/center] Kova tends to hoard colorful trinkets in his bunkhouse. He hangs them from the rafters and lets the wind rustle up some noise, much to the annoyance of his clanmates. He also has a small collection of storybooks for his grand campfire displays.[/quote] ------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59272122]Lucille, owned by [b]Wishesyou[/b][/url][/size] [quote]Lucille makes her way through life shouting and grinning. She's got a quick wit and a quicker tongue, often charming clan mates into her next adventurous dive into nonsense. Often found near mishaps, Lucille takes pride in her elaborate pranks. She once replaced a clan mate's hoard with rotting spoons, hiding away the true treasure near an outhouse. If feelings end up being hurt, Lucille's quick to reassure and talk her way out of a good thrashing. Lucille makes her way through life with her silver tongue, often avoiding violence and conflict by a few words of choice. Clan mates may find themselves enamored with her charming ways, but Lucille would need a truly keen individual if she were ever to settle down and have hatchlings of her own. What is life but for a single chance at excitement? Lucille longs to bring meaning to dreadfully short existence by seeking out the brightest moments she can sink her claws into. She encourages her fellows to seek out fun activities, and even seeks out her depressed friends to cheer them up. With a big heart and a winsome smile, Lucille finds herself at home wherever the path may lead, because there's always friendship on the horizon. [center][i]"A day without a spot of fun is a day wasted!"[/i][/center] Lucille hoards chess pieces, often killing a tired night by challenging clan mates to a good game. She always ups the ante with a devastating wager, and often wins by a large margin. Despite her ways, she's got a keen mind for calculation. Also in her bunkhouse is a beautiful lute that she cares deeply for and plays during her off time when no one is brave enough to step up to her games.[/quote] ------------------- [size=4][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59272121]Horn, owned by [b]Biagio[/b][/size] [/url] [quote]Horn learned to be a doctor from a young age, always hovering behind the ranch surgeon, watching him delicately piece together injuries and heal the sick. It became her dream to care for the hurt and weak, lifting them back onto their feet with keen skill. Horn read when her rancher duties were done, keeping a stock up of manuals and books in her bunkhouse for candlelit study. Over time she mastered the techniques of the Beast Clans and other flights, whilst combining practical magic into an extremely effective type of healing. With a big heart and a soft soul, she teaches others the ways of keeping themselves safe on the plains and quick first aid. She owes her loyalty to the Lightweaver for her own particular type of Light magic, where Horn weaves sunbeams together as stitches over certain grievous injuries. At her new clan, Horn works as both a teacher and doctor. She entertains hatchlings with her magical abilities, educating them on the basics of medicine all the while. When another injured is brought into her care, she is quick to drop everything to save lives. Above all, Horn dreams of soft moments and clear, sunny days with her clan mates, far away from the violence of the constant war. [center][i]"May I weave peace wherever I go." [/i][/center] Horn keeps a bronze pocket watch on hand to keep time and measure her tasks. For her hoard, she prefers to keep a stock of soft cloth on hand for both her work and her draconic instinct. In her free time, she weaves herself on a rattling loom that goes with her where ever her path may lead.[/quote] -------------

Res

open for comments / critique



i made this thread while procrastinating on writing projects lol


anyhow, i hope you enjoy