Creative Corner

@Anny
Thank you so much, oh my gosh! I'm so glad you like it!

Malphite is such a nerd and I love her.

This really brightened my day! Thank you!

@Anny [center][size=7]Nymphs[/center][/size] [center][item=Glowing Pocket Mouse][/center] “Nomercy.” The voice was quiet but commanded authority. Any dragon who heard it would immediately shoot up and do whatever the voice demanded. Unless that dragon was Nomercy, in which case he would roll over, touch his Charge with his tail in order to ensure its safety, and go still again. “Nomercy,” the voice purred again. “Please rise.” “I have no need to,” came the guardian’s reply. “[i]Nomercy I swear to gods I will rip your tail off and beat you to death with it[/i].” The voice was no longer honey-sweet and persuasive, exchanging these qualities for a low, hissing tone. Nomercy opened an eye. His lips curled in a rare smile. It was quite terrifying. “You threaten me every morning. I could tell Thunderflare and have you thrown out of the clan.” “You wouldn’t do that to me.” The voice was lyrical and soft again. “I tried [i]two[/i] times this morning, Nomie. That should count for something.” A gray, crystal guardian poked his head into Nomercy’s cave. “Yes, well, in the end you still decided that I was a lost cause and resorted to violent words,” Nomercy said, rising. His amusement turned to confusion, and he wrinkled his snout. “Is that your webwing’s skull, Deidre.” “Hmm?” Deidre looked at his arm. He chuckled softly. “No, of course not. I caught a webwing earlier, and since Razelan shed last night, I figured I might as well make something with her feathers.” He tilted his head, grinning. “And the webwing head.” “You realize Razelan [i]is[/i] a webwing, correct?” said Nomercy. “What will she think of this?” “Hey!” Deidre bumped Nomercy with his tail. “You called her ‘she’ instead of ‘it’! We’ll train you yet!” Nomercy’s pale blue skin darkened. “Mm,” he said, his tone neutral. “Anyways, Nomercy,” Deidre said, turning. “The lovebirds’ nymphs are at it again and you’re the only one they’re scared of, so.” “Gods,” sighed Nomercy. “I should just kill those creatures.” Deidre clucked his tongue. “Bad idea. You wouldn’t want the Earthshaker after you, would you?” “Aegis and Starzonyte need to learn how to properly take care of nymphs.” Nomercy’s fins twitched. “They need to understand that they cannot just let them do gods know what while they… do whatever it is those necromancers do.” Deidre snorted a laugh. “Necromancer is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think, Nomie?” “We know nothing of Starzonyte’s history,” Nomercy reasoned. He scooped his Charge up and held it close to his heart, as if protecting it from all the evil of the world. “We would be caught off guard if she revealed herself to be Shade-touched.” “Starzonyte’s a Light dragon, and we don’t have time for this conversation, so [i]come on[/i], Nomercy,” Deidre said, some of the earlier edge creeping into his tone. Nomercy huffed and followed him. It was a strange sort of huff. It might be mistaken for a chuckle. [center]***[/center] “FOR THE LOVE OF BOSTON,” screeched Malphite, backpedaling away from her desk. An electric nymph immediately smashed into the oil lamp she had placed next to her work. “Pah!” The nymph spat a fizzling blue ball of lightning at the ground. “Not electric! You need electricity!” He wagged a scolding finger at Malphite. “No electricity in [i]any[/i] of Dragonhome!” His accent made the i’s sound like ee’s. A boulder nymph appeared, her eyes wide with hunger. “I told you,” she said to Malphite, her soft Earthen voice both threatening and cold. “I told you I’d take your den. It’s one huge boulder. How do I get it up?” Malphite made a noise like a whistling tea kettle. “Is that [i]all[/i] you ever [i]care[/i] about, gods-damned [i]electricity[/i] and [i]boulders[/i]? You’re [i]ruining[/i] my study!” “I’ll take your den one way or another,” the boulder nymph said, unblinking. “All right!” said Deidre in a friendly tone, poking his head into Malphite’s study. “I brought someone here who wants to talk to you two!” “Nedus. Bounty.” Nomercy’s critical tone was enough to freeze even the most hotheaded of Fire dragons. “Stop. Now.” Nedus darted to Nomercy’s side. “You don’t understand, sir!” he chirped, his voice shaking only slightly. “My Aegis needs electricity or he wouldn’t have me!” Nomercy tilted his head. “Aegis is a brute with no survival skills. He is going to leave on his Search soon enough, and I am certain that you will be left behind.” Nedus drooped, looking forlorn. “My Aegis wouldn’t do that,” he murmured quietly. “My Starzonyte specifically told me to collect boulders for her,” Bounty said, devoid of emotion. “And I can’t choose to do anything other than what my Starzonyte wishes.” “Your Starzonyte is an air-headed fool who can’t hunt worth [i]sh*t[/i],” Malphite interjected helpfully. “You read my mind,” Deidre said, his voice cheery. “Gray guarddragon,” said Bounty, whirling to look at Deidre. “I would rather tear off my fingers and eat them than work for my Starzonyte. If it weren’t for her stronger magic, I would have disposed of her body long ago.” Deidre smiled uneasily. “Yes, of course,” he said, looking over to Nomercy. “This is not the conversation we were meant to be having,” the blue guardian sighed. “Stop interrupting Malphite’s work and look for boulders and electricity other places.” “Think there [i]is[/i] any electricity in Dragonhome?” snorted Nedus, but he nevertheless darted from the room. “I will get your den one day, snapdragon,” Bounty said, looking over her shoulder as she followed her companion. “Those two are [i]terrifying[/i], Hope and Boston,” sighed Malphite, sinking onto the ground. “Sorry about them,” Deidre said, stepping out of her study. “Have a nice day!” Nomercy exited as well, and watched the nymphs make their way over to their dragons. He turned and slipped back into his den, clutching his Charge to his chest. [center]***[/center] Night fell. The sounds of sleeping dragons filled the camp. Bounty snorted. That wasn’t good for hunting. She stared at Starzonyte before leaving. The pearlcatcher slept outside rather than in a den. Perhaps a passing harpy clan might see her from above and attack. But then, Bounty supposed, the harpies might also attack Nomercy or Malphite, and she quite liked Nomercy and Malphite. And she didn’t mind the bumbling tundra they accompanied more often than not.. Bounty slipped away, her wings blurring, her pupils widening to take in all the moon’s light they could. The Earthshaker hadn’t blessed her with the sharpest night vision — she wasn’t an ichor nymph, after all — but she could at least see. Especially when something glowed in the dark and smelled like food. Bounty touched down lightly and crept forwards. A glowing pocket mouse, a baby one. Away from its mother. Easy to take. She approached and took the creature gently into her hands. It would have a quick death. It wouldn’t hurt. It would just be food. Most dragons never see a nymph or a sprite’s mouth. They speak with their hands in front of their lips; it’s considered polite in their culture. But Bounty didn’t have to cover her mouth now. No, now whoever was watching could see her lips curling back, her huge sharp teeth lining every centimeter of her mouth, her forked pale tongue. And that [i]thing[/i] was going to eat Cyperus. Alark lunged forward. He was much bigger than Bounty, and the boulder nymph immediately released the now-dark pocket mouse and scrambled backwards. Alark considered snatching her into his jaws, but she was gone before he could. It wasn’t important. What was important was Cyperus. Alark cooed to the little mouse. “There, there, Cyperus is fine, he’s all okay, Cyperus is going to be fine…” He lifted the mouse to his head, where it rejoined its family, a tired-looking dark doe and a young white female. A growl rumbled in Alark’s throat. “Maybe Alark better pay that nymph’s family a little visit, eh?” And he set off with his nose to the ground, tracking where Bounty had gone. Sorry for the late update! I had a bit of trouble coming up with something I liked. But Nedus and Bounty were fun to write. And I get to introduce Deidre, who I love. Also my nerd Alark.

@Anny [center][size=7]Nighttime Visitor[/center][/size] [center][item=Discipline][/center] [center]Flip: Tails[/center] It was peaceful in her study. Snappers weren’t meant to like cramped spaces. Well, too bad for them. She liked her study. It was quiet, comfortable, and well-lit. She didn’t like the dark. She was a Light dragon. She wasn’t meant to like the dark. Malphite rolled over, snoring softly. She was safe and warm. She slept dreamlessly. Of course it’s hard to sleep when a five hundred eighty kilogram projectile lands heavily on your stomach. Malphite shot up with surprising speed, her mouth open, light yellow mist spilling from her jaws. She faced the imperial with blazing eyes — and then stopped. A hatchling. A snarling, writhing hatchling, but a hatchling nevertheless. She couldn’t fight a hatchling. “[i]Where is the boulder nymph[/i].” It was not a question. A question can be answered with “I don’t know”. If Malphite answered the imperial with that, she would probably be gutted. “Uh, here, I’ll—” She trotted outside, intending to lead the hatchling to Bounty’s nest. “I can show you some breathing exercises?” “Some what?” The imperial was immediately on his guard again. “Is that a weapon?” “...No?” said Malphite. “They’re just some breathing you can do to… you know… lessen your [i]rage[/i].” “Alark doesn’t have any rage,” the imperial snorted. He eyed Malphite with a wary green gaze. “...Maybe Big Gray could teach him the breathing ezzercises, though. Might come in handy.” Malphite smiled at him. “Eight seconds in, eight seconds out,” she told him. Alark drew his lips back. “In what?” “Uh. Breathe eight seconds in, breathe eight seconds out.” “[i]Big Gray is stalling[/i].” The change in tone was enough to make Malphite jump. “[i]Lead Alark to the boulder nymph or he will have Big Gray’s feet for breakfast[/i].” “Hope and Boston,” muttered Malphite. “Just trying to [i]help[/i].” “What’s Hope and Boston?” said Alark. Malphite turned to stare at him. “You’ve never heard of Hope and Boston. The only other dragons in… you know what? Never mind. Let Berwin tell you. He’s the priest, he’ll help you with it. She showed him Bounty’s nest. The nymph sat up in it, staring straight ahead, her antennae twitching occasionally. Malphite shivered. She’d never get used to how the boulder nymph slept. Nedus, at least, smiled slightly when he slept. “Here she is, the biggest pain in my ass since I first met Torador,” Malphite grumbled. “You’ll meet Torador eventually, if you plan on sticking around.” “Yes,” the imperial nodded. “Alark kills the boulder nymph, then stays. More protection for pocket mice.” Malphite didn’t question what he was talking about, since Bounty interrupted them. “Apologies,” she said, making Malphite jump and Alark crouch into a hunting position. “I hadn’t known the pocket mouse was your familiar. Is it all right?” “Cyperus is fine,” Alark said suspiciously. “The boulder nymph was going to [i]eat[/i] him. It deserves to die.” “You may call me she, kingdragon,” said Bounty monotonously. “It is incredibly rude to call something capable of intelligent speech ‘it’.” Alark hissed. “Alark doesn’t care! Does the boulder nymph apologize or not?” “I apologize,” said Bounty, flitting upwards and curtsying. “I had no idea the pocket mouse belonged to you.” “Cyperus doesn’t belong to Alark,” said Alark, crinkling his snout in confusion. “Cyperus belongs to himself.” “Familiars belong to dragons, kingdragon,” Bounty said, tilting her head. “I belong to my Starzonyte, though I wish heavily that I didn’t.” “The boulder nymph is a familiar?” Alark asked. He blinked, as if that hadn’t even occurred to him. “Of course,” Bounty replied. “Everything that isn’t a dragon is a familiar. Didn’t you know?” Bounty’s voice, had she used tones and verbal inclinations, would have been sarcastic. “No.” Alark moved closer, settling himself down. “Everything belongs to itself. The boulder nymph belongs to herself.” “You don’t understand.” Bounty also fluttered closer, hovering in front of Alark’s nose. “The Earth Father created boulder nymphs to serve dragons. We don’t have a choice.” Malphite stepped away slowly, not wanting to interrupt the most sane conversation either of its participants had probably had. She needed to tell Berwin to prepare another bed. [center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/sv93B0nnSJ8RO/giphy.gif[/img][/center] I didn’t have internet for a good while there, but I’m good now. I’m super sorry about the delay. I doubt it was worth it, but we’re gonna learn some more about the rest of the clan pretty soon here.

@Anny
Yep! He and his pocket mice are gonna stick around for a while.

@Anny [center][size=7]Good Death[/size][/center] [center][item=Mustache Moth][/center] Alark trotted back to Torador, a blue rose and a tiny satchel clutched in his jaws. “Alark did good! Fluff looks!” Torador purred softly. “You did real good, Alark.” He ruffled Alark’s mane with his paw. “Maybe you’ll even be as good as me someday.” Torador was still the only one brave/stupid enough to tease Alark. “Alark is better than Fluff,” Alark said. He wasn’t defensive or angry, and in fact he only got defensive or angry when the lives of his pocket mice were on the line. He was saying this quite matter-of-factly. “Alark hunts better.” “Oh,” said Torador, blinking, as if that had just occurred to him. “Well. You know, [i]I[/i] have a bigger familiar.” “Alark has more,” Alark said, with a noise as close to a cackle as anyone had ever heard from him. He pushed his nose into Torador’s mane and bit his ear. “[i]OW[/i],” complained Torador, pouncing on him. “How old do you think Alark is?” questioned Malphite, watching them tussle. “Likely not much older than Torador.” Nomercy tilted his head. “Why do you ask?” “I was wondering if perhaps Alark could be related to Ahearn.” At Nomercy’s questioning glance, Malphite quickly elaborated, “They’re both Nature imperials, and Berwin says Ahearn only recently moved here…” “Mm,” replied Nomercy. “I doubt they’re related. Ahearn is more or less collected, and Alark is…” He chuffed and inclined his head in the direction of Alark, who was currently attempting to playfully lift Torador. He hadn’t accounted for Torador’s pure, unadulterated attachment to the ground, nor the fact that tundras who don’t want to move [i]will not move[/i]. “You did good, Alark!” called Malphite. “Good hunting! Let’s go back now!” “Wait, wait, Malphite,” said Torador. His nostrils flare. “Somethin’ smells.” “Last time you said that we had to spend a month healing a half-dead chipskink who I doubt actually wanted to still be alive,” snorted Malphite. “Come on.” “Alark smells it too,” piped up Alark. “Smells like death.” “Oh, well [i]that’s[/i] an incentive!” Malphite said with the fakest grin anyone had ever seen from her. “Like [i]death[/i] Big Gray,” persisted Alark. “Like… good death.” “...What the hell?” Malphite said. “Plague.” Nomercy started. Malphite didn’t think anything could rile up the huge blue dragon, but now he looked at her with wide eyes and a startled impression. “He’s talking about a Plague dragon.” He sniffed the air. “Could you… lead me, Torador?” “Mm?” Torador blinked at him. “Okay. Alark, you wanna help?” “Alark will lead.” Alark nodded, as if this were obvious. “Come, Butterfly.” He traipsed into the underbrush, moving swiftly and silently for his bulk. “My best friends are a sociopath, an idiot, and a barbarian,” said Malphite to the open air. “Lightweaver, I understand you’re trying to prove my worth, but you can do a little better than this.” “Good Death!” Alark dashed around in circles. “Good Death!” “It’s a Plague egg, Alark,” hissed Nomercy lowly. “And stop running around, you’re going to bump into me and break it.” “Mm.” Alark nudged Torador with his nose. “Fluff saw Good Death?” “Yep!” Torador grinned. “We should name it, like, a mix of Fire and Nature, ‘cause we were the ones that found it.” “That’s an awful idea,” Normercy grimaced. “Both of your naming schemes are [i]atrocious[/i].” “Aw, c’mon, Nomercy.” Torador scuffed his paws against the ground. “Epsilon’s a [i]great[/i] name!” “For a familiar, maybe, but this is a dragon. It has to have an actual name.” “What’re you talkin’ about, Epsilon’s an actual name!” squawked Torador. “And what’s wrong with Alark’s names?” Nomercy paused, before slowly turning to look at the Fireborn. “Torador.” “What? Cyperus is a good name.” Nomercy snorted and turned around again. “He might be good with familiar names, but dragon names seem to be beyond him.” Torador glanced back at Alark, who seemed to be trying to perch on top of a tree that was half his size. “A lotta things seem t’be beyond him.” “Alark heard that,” Alark said. He didn’t seem to care too much, but Torador still jumped to get ahead of Nomercy. “What’s Malphite gonna say when she sees we got an egg?” the tundra asked meekly. “She won’t be too mad, I’d imagine. After all, she still thinks that—” “[i]Butterfly. Stop walking[/i].” Alark’s voice was a low hiss. He’d managed to disentangle himself from the tree and approach the duo without making a sound. “[i]Good Death is hatching[/i].” Nomercy would never obey him in any other circumstance, but now he immediately placed the egg down and watched it eagerly. Sure enough, a slit had appeared in the mucus green egg. It was quite an ugly thing, actually. Covered in pustules, smelling of rot and infestation, and the slit had just added to the stink. Both Nomercy and Torador retreated at the scent, but Alark wiggled closer. Despite him being a Nature dragon, he seemed fascinated with the diseased egg. The slit grew, splitting the egg in half. A rather large head poked out, opening its mouth in a cry of hunger and surprise. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36909724] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/369098/36909724_350.png[/img] [/url] “Wow,” breathed Torador. “Butterfly,” said Alark in astonishment. He glanced at Nomercy. “Good Death looks like Butterfly.” “It’s a guardian,” said Nomercy, sniffing at the hatchling, still covered in the liquids of its egg. “Look!” Torador punched Nomercy harder than he needed to. “She’s purple!” “[i]No[/i],” said Nomercy sarcastically. The guardian squeaked once. She rose on shaky legs and tried to toddle over to Alark before tripping on her feet. “[i]Ahhhhh Alark loves Good Death[/i],” Alark said, his voice a squeal. “Alark will protect it and feed it and—” “Y’can’t do that by yourself!” protested Torador, squirming over to the imperial and placing his paw on Alark’s shoulder. “Y’need a strong older dragon to… help.” “You two idiots are going to kill her, for Hope’s sake,” sighed Malphite, appearing amongst the undergrowth. “[i]Lightweaver damn it why are there so many plants.[/i]” She finally managed to escape the clutches of the brambles and eyed the baby guardian critically. “Huh. She looks like Cindershard.” “Who’s Cindershard?” asked Torador. “This Plague dragon my mother used to tell me about,” Malphite replied, waving a paw. “My mother practically worshipped her.” “That’s a good name! Cindershard.” Torador wagged his tail, looking to Alark for confirmation. “Cindershard fits Good Death,” agreed Alark. “Good Death grows up to become fierce warrior! Fire and Plague combined!” He nudged Torador. “Like Fluff. Except better.” “Thanks, Alark,” Torador said in a fake singsong voice. “Well, we better bring her back and explain to Berwin,” sighed Malphite. She regarded the baby guardian and smiled slightly. “Cindershard.” AHHH I’M SO SORRY I’VE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG. I was really looking forward to introducing Cindershard, because I love her and she is my daughter and gosh she’s so great. I’m sorry! I had to make up a heckton of schoolwork and now that everything’s calm again I can start working on the ‘locke again! It makes me happy. I love my dragons.