Art Sales

@pulchritudinous Heyo!
Can I get a ping when you take more orders? I'd love to get another set of dragons done after I loved the last two! <3

@XxCalypsoxX @Skollrous pinging you two to let you know i will be writing again starting tomorrow! feel free to send any order forms, i will not accept payment until your order has been confirmed!

@person588 did you still want lore written for your dragon? if not, that's fine! thought i should ask

@pulchritudinous Hello! I hope you're open- I can see the people on the waitlist so it confused me a little so if you're not I can wait until you actually are ^^ [b]Dragon Image:[/b] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/87248486][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/872485/87248486_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Dragon's Name:[/b] Quinn [b]Theme of Story:[/b] He does have lore in his bio already! Looking for something of him maybe wandering his home and interacting with his puppets n stuff? He's a lonely circus performer living in the decaying remains of his once bright carnival home, said decay being brought on by a disaster he can't quite remember. He's made friends with the leftover puppets, dolls, marionettes and bones of dragons long forgotten. I don't really have a solid idea for anything specific for writing so if you're unable to do anything for him that's okay! [b]Word Count:[/b] I feel like my idea might be kind of vague so I'm not too sure? I can pay for up to 1,600 words with treasure right now. If you can estimate what you might be able to do with this then I'd be willing to pay it! [b]Flat or Detailed?:[/b] Detailed if possible ^^ [b]Payment Type:[/b] Treasure

@Jekra hello! i am so sorry that my reply is so late, i’ve been meaning to respond back to you but keep forgetting i prommy i wasn’t ignoring you on purpose! my shop is still open but for a good while i had extreme burnout from writing, so that’s why i had users on my waitlist! they’re there for me to get to once my break was over! i read the lore for your derg and i’m really intrigued by his backstory and have a few ideas i can write up but, i can’t promise i’ll be able to write 1.6k words. if you have a word count in mind that you would pay for, tell me and i’ll only charge you for that amount!

@pulchritudinous

It's alright!!

Would 1,000 words be a more fair amount? I'm proper bad at word counts cause I'd like something fairly long for fun but also I wouldn't want to make it so long it's like. a stretch to get it to the count lol u_u'

@Jekra yes that's fine! your order comes up to 100kt so one you CR or Pm that to me, i can get that started! thank you!

@XxCalypsoxX i have no excuse...but at least your lore is done! thank you for being such a loyal customer, i'm honestly surprised when i keep getting orders from you! but also, i am very honored that you come to me to write stories for ur dergs [emoji=heart size=1] [s]next order is on me though[/s]. you know the drill, i don't even have to tell you or ask hehe. i hope you like them! [s]not too happy with some of the endings but maybe you can expand if you like?[/s] [quote=athena]Athena shoved the body of a dancing harpy that collided with hers, the beast letting out a loud, indignant squawk that she pointedly ignored. The harpy huffed at her rude attitude before mixing into the ever-growing crowd, Athena paying no mind to the beast’s ire. The Wildclaw hated rave nights; the music was often terrible, the air stuffy and humid, and the tiny cavern always filled to the brim with patrons. She was always bumped into, her tail stepped on, and ever so often, a claw or two broken. All of this just by being the club’s designated bodyguard. At least the drinks are free. Speaking of drinks, Athena knocked back the mediocre cocktail, tossing the glass to the bartender on duty. The pink-colored harpy immediately snatched the glass before it could break, giving the Wildclaw a disappointed look. Athena couldn’t bother to care, the pink harpy–whose name she had forgotten–didn’t deserve her attitude. But Athena’s heart was too hard to feel any guilt, she didn’t care what the harpies thought about her as long as she was here. Years ago she was stolen from her birth-clan by a group of winged beasts, bypassing the alliance of the harpies and dragons residing in the lands of Wind. The Wildclaw remembered her cries for help as they flew away before her parents could go after her. She was raised by the beasts, bouncing back between different harpies when never she caused too much trouble for them to keep her. Pink Harpy (seriously, what was her name?!) was the nicest out of all of them, taking Athena's anger with a kind smile and gentle claws. She was the one who got Athena this job as soon as she was old enough to fend for herself, often slipping her drinks and food whenever she was on break or manning the station. If Athena had met her in a different circumstance, she would’ve liked her, but all harpies were the same to her no matter how kind they come off as. Thieves and traitors. [i]“Athena.”[/i] The Wildclaw let out a growl at the hoarse voice that came from the Crowned Roc that owned the club, the beast rolling his eyes at her fury. Pink Harpy’s eyes widened at their interaction, setting down the glass she was cleaning to sneak off and attend to other guests. If there was anyone who Athena hated the most, it was him. He was harsh with her whenever she lived with him, shaping her to be the perfect warrior, to be used for whatever mission he decided to throw at her. This is probably why he sought her out, to give her a new assignment that often has her betraying dragonkind. Despite being old, the Roc was much stronger than her, putting her in her place a few too many times to count. “You can growl at me all you like.” He snarked in perfect draconian. “No one told you to leave your post and leech off drinks from the bar and since you’re here, you might as well go on a mission. Follow me if you know what’s good for you.” The crowd of dancing harpies parted as the Crowned Roc meandered towards the back of the club, Athena following his with fire in her eyes. Whenever she got stronger, he would be the first one she took out. [/quote] i didn't really use much formatting but here's a coded version [code]Athena shoved the body of a dancing harpy that collided with hers, the beast letting out a loud, indignant squawk that she pointedly ignored. The harpy huffed at her rude attitude before mixing into the ever-growing crowd, Athena paying no mind to the beast’s ire. The Wildclaw hated rave nights; the music was often terrible, the air stuffy and humid, and the tiny cavern always filled to the brim with patrons. She was always bumped into, her tail stepped on, and ever so often, a claw or two broken. All of this just by being the club’s designated bodyguard. At least the drinks are free. Speaking of drinks, Athena knocked back the mediocre cocktail, tossing the glass to the bartender on duty. The pink-colored harpy immediately snatched the glass before it could break, giving the Wildclaw a disappointed look. Athena couldn’t bother to care, the pink harpy–whose name she had forgotten–didn’t deserve her attitude. But Athena’s heart was too hard to feel any guilt, she didn’t care what the harpies thought about her as long as she was here. Years ago she was stolen from her birth-clan by a group of winged beasts, bypassing the alliance of the harpies and dragons residing in the lands of Wind. The Wildclaw remembered her cries for help as they flew away before her parents could go after her. She was raised by the beasts, bouncing back between different harpies when never she caused too much trouble for them to keep her. Pink Harpy (seriously, what was her name?!) was the nicest out of all of them, taking Athena's anger with a kind smile and gentle claws. She was the one who got Athena this job as soon as she was old enough to fend for herself, often slipping her drinks and food whenever she was on break or manning the station. If Athena had met her in a different circumstance, she would’ve liked her, but all harpies were the same to her no matter how kind they come off as. Thieves and traitors. [i]“Athena.”[/i] The Wildclaw let out a growl at the hoarse voice that came from the Crowned Roc that owned the club, the beast rolling his eyes at her fury. Pink Harpy’s eyes widened at their interaction, setting down the glass she was cleaning to sneak off and attend to other guests. If there was anyone who Athena hated the most, it was him. He was harsh with her whenever she lived with him, shaping her to be the perfect warrior, to be used for whatever mission he decided to throw at her. This is probably why he sought her out, to give her a new assignment that often has her betraying dragonkind. Despite being old, the Roc was much stronger than her, putting her in her place a few too many times to count. “You can growl at me all you like.” He snarked in perfect draconian. “No one told you to leave your post and leech off drinks from the bar and since you’re here, you might as well go on a mission. Follow me if you know what’s good for you.” The crowd of dancing harpies parted as the Crowned Roc meandered towards the back of the club, Athena following his with fire in her eyes. Whenever she got stronger, he would be the first one she took out.[/code] [quote=juice]Juice didn’t know how she got the demon. It was a regular degular day, nothing out of the ordinary. Juice was taking a walk with her mate Beetle when an entity attacked her. But apparently, only she was able to see said entity, Beetle watching his mate freak out for what looked like no apparent reason. He was unable to calm her down, Juice roaring in fear until she suddenly stopped and collapsed. The Imperial took his lover to the nearest physician, however, every single one of them told him that Juice was nothing but a perfect bill of health. However, they were unaware of the voice in her head. It was a growly and sinister voice, a far cry from her own gentle and sweet one, demanding her to cause mayhem or attack other dragons seemingly for no reason. Juice however always refused, causing the…Thing to get angry. It would yell vitriol in her head, the voice overwhelming to the point she could hear anyone address her. Juice. Juice? JUICE! Darkness covers her eyes, her throat fills with liquid fire as the entity takes over her, gnashing her fangs at whoever is unfortunate to be around her in this state. Most of the time, it’s her own mate, Beetle as he tries to restrain her. She weeps every time she has to wrap his wounds. Because of the possessions, her clanmates often avoid her and even her own mate flinches from her especially when she caresses him with her claws or brushes against him. Her heart hurts to know that her mate was scared of her but she didn’t blame him. She couldn’t. [i]“He’s going to leave you, y’know.” The voice sneered in her head. “He’s going to leave you because you’re a freak who talks to her imaginary friend that lives inside her head. You’re going to be alone and mine, HAH! You cannot deny it.”[/i] Tears welled up in Juice’s eyes, a lump lodging firmly in her throat due to the demon’s words. It was right, Beetle would eventually leave her due to the possessions, and the violent attacks. Their vows made as mates would be null and void once Beetle had enough. And there was no way her clan would allow her to stay if they did decide to split up. [i]“Awe? Are you crying? Pathetic. Can’t handle a little truth, can you?”[/i] “It’s not true!” Juice surprised even herself when she snapped back at the demon, tears flowing from her eyes but her body filled with righteous anger. “It’s not going to happen…b-because I won’t let you! I will get rid of you and t-take my life back! I swear it, do you hear me? I swear it!” Juice sniffled and wiped her eyes, splashing her face with water from a nearby lake to wash away the salt, the demon falling quiet at her outburst. She counted the silence as a win for now, letting out a huff before marching herself back to the clan grounds in search of some information. [/quote] coded version [code]Juice didn’t know how she got the demon. It was a regular degular day, nothing out of the ordinary. Juice was taking a walk with her mate Beetle when an entity attacked her. But apparently, only she was able to see said entity, Beetle watching his mate freak out for what looked like no apparent reason. He was unable to calm her down, Juice roaring in fear until she suddenly stopped and collapsed. The Imperial took his lover to the nearest physician, however, every single one of them told him that Juice was nothing but a perfect bill of health. However, they were unaware of the voice in her head. It was a growly and sinister voice, a far cry from her own gentle and sweet one, demanding her to cause mayhem or attack other dragons seemingly for no reason. Juice however always refused, causing the…Thing to get angry. It would yell vitriol in her head, the voice overwhelming to the point she could hear anyone address her. Juice. Juice? JUICE! Darkness covers her eyes, her throat fills with liquid fire as the entity takes over her, gnashing her fangs at whoever is unfortunate to be around her in this state. Most of the time, it’s her own mate, Beetle as he tries to restrain her. She weeps every time she has to wrap his wounds. Because of the possessions, her clanmates often avoid her and even her own mate flinches from her especially when she caresses him with her claws or brushes against him. Her heart hurts to know that her mate was scared of her but she didn’t blame him. She couldn’t. [i]“He’s going to leave you, y’know.” The voice sneered in her head. “He’s going to leave you because you’re a freak who talks to her imaginary friend that lives inside her head. You’re going to be alone and mine, HAH! You cannot deny it.”[/i] Tears welled up in Juice’s eyes, a lump lodging firmly in her throat due to the demon’s words. It was right, Beetle would eventually leave her due to the possessions, and the violent attacks. Their vows made as mates would be null and void once Beetle had enough. And there was no way her clan would allow her to stay if they did decide to split up. [i]“Awe? Are you crying? Pathetic. Can’t handle a little truth, can you?”[/i] “It’s not true!” Juice surprised even herself when she snapped back at the demon, tears flowing from her eyes but her body filled with righteous anger. “It’s not going to happen…b-because I won’t let you! I will get rid of you and t-take my life back! I swear it, do you hear me? I swear it!” Juice sniffled and wiped her eyes, splashing her face with water from a nearby lake to wash away the salt, the demon falling quiet at her outburst. She counted the silence as a win for now, letting out a huff before marching herself back to the clan grounds in search of some information.[/code] [quote=beetle]Watching a dragon writhe in pain was not something Beetle was expecting from his day. Especially when that dragon was your own mate who was the one in pain. Beetle chewed his lip in anxiety as the Exorcist splashed Juice with more holy water, the Obelisk roaring when the liquid touched her hide, the sounds of sizzling, and the rise of steam emerging from the affected area. “Do you have to use the water on her?” Beetle questioned, yelping when the Exorcist flicked some of the holy water at him. “For someone who is supposed to be moral support, you sure ask a lot of questions…” The aged Pearlcatcher grumbled, drying their hands on an old-looking towel. “But to answer your question, yes I do. It helps weaken the demon and lessens the hold they have on their vessel so that the exorcism can go smoothly. The more the better but since you’re crying about it, I’ll stop there.” The Imperial let out an offended noise but said nothing. He promised to be Juice’s support as she went through the ritual and fighting with the Exorcist? That wouldn’t be a good look considering they were taking care of his mate. Juice looked up at him and gave him a pained smile, her eyes clouded in pain. “It’s going to be okay, Beetle. Just trust them. Soon, we’ll have our old lives back.” Beetle blinked away the tears welling in his eyes at his mate’s words, giving her a small nod. He watched as the Pearlcatcher blew out a few candles, the lair becoming rather dark with only a few still lit. Picking up a tattered book, the Exorcist stepped up to the podium next to the table Juice was resting on and cleared their voice. A glow emitted from the table as the Pearlcatcher started to mumble the rites from the book, Juice’s body tensing up as the same glowing lines started to cover her body. She out a hoarse shout of pain, causing Beetle’s heart to almost leap out of his chest. As the Exorcist continued with the rites–becoming louder and louder until they were yelling to the high heavens–Juice’s pain became worse. She struggled against the restraints and bellowed her agony as the glowing lines sunk deep within her body to pull out the offending being. The sight was too much for Beetle’s heart, tears streaming down his face at his mate’s suffering. “Stop! Stop, please! Just STOP!” The Pearlcatcher stopped abruptly at his cries, Juice slumping onto the table like a limp doll. “You fool! The ritual was almost over! I cannot do it against lest I kill her! What is your problem?!” “It’s too much! I cannot bear it, I’m sorry!” Beetle sobbed, the Exorcist sneering at his pathetic state. They began to light up the once blown-out candles, Juice slowly lifted her head and gave her mate a disappointed stare. “B-beetle…how could you? We could’ve had our lives back. Why did you stop it?” “I was afraid! You sounded like you were dying! I’ll learn to live with it but I cannot bear to lose you Juice, please…understand. I don’t want to lose you…” “You cannot let the demon regain strength.” The Pearlcatcher piped up. “She must rest since she went through heavy strain. I can give you a charm that will subdue the demon, but next time will not be so easy.” Beetle nodded solemnly at the elder dragon’s words, a shot of pain stabbing his heart. [/quote]

@pulchritudinous
Just now getting to read this haha. It was absolutely worth the wait!

I always love your lore, so you'll always have a customer:)

Feel free to add to your showcase, and you have been linked back to in their bios <333

Thank you again as always for amazing lore, and happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!:)

@XxCalypsoxX thank you so much for your kind words, i really appreciate you! i’m a lil late but happy thanksgiving to you too! [emoji=familiar heart size=1] i’m very thankful for you and your patience with me :D

@Jekra *crashes through the door* [b]I AM FINISHED[/b]!!! (finally). i am very embarrassed it took this long to write your lore but i'm also really excited for you to read it! i wanted to do something different from the lore you already had for Quinn and focus more on his home life. you'll see what i mean when you read it! thank you so, so, soooo much for your patience with me, i really appreciate it! please make sure to either link my profile or this thread once you use this lore! can i add Quinn to my showcase? [quote=quinn]A loud shrill from the tea kettle signaled Quinn that the hot water he prepared for tea was, and the Wildclaw hopped up quickly to cease the noise. He let out a pleased sigh at the aromatic smell of herbs steeping in the hot water, preparing four cups of piping hot tea and setting them neatly on a tarnished tray. He brought out the prepared tray to a dilapidated table decorated to the nines in tattered cloth and broken dishware. Surrounding the sorry sight were puppets and dolls–some cracked, some broken, some torn–sitting properly in their chairs. As if they were waiting patiently for Quinn to bring them their midday snack, as prim and proper lads and lasses should always sit. Quinn hummed a pleasant tune as he arranged biscuits onto a chipped tray, the smell of warm sugar and sweet berries making his mouth water. But he cannot eat any of the treats just yet, his friends must have their snacks first before he will allow himself to indulge. “The tea and biscuits are almost ready ladies! Just a few more minutes!” He didn’t get a response back but that was to be expected, Quinn knew the girls were too busy gossiping amongst themselves to pay any attention to him. Once he was pleased with his handiwork, he picked up the broken tray and walked out into the seating area, one of the dolls accidentally knocked to the side from his tail, Quinn quickly setting down the tray to straighten her out. “Oh, dear sweet Sandaraara! My apologies for my carelessness! I know, I know, a lady must sit upright and proper. Here we are.” He fluffed out the dolls’ dress reverently. “Look at you, put together nicely, not a thread out of place. Now it’s time for tea! Contain your excitement ladies, I have procured a new blend from a traveling merchant! And these biscuits are supposed to pair very well with the tea, prepared for your tastebuds to be amazed!” Quinn carefully poured the tea into the chipped teacups and served the biscuits on the cracked plates. He made sure all the dolls and puppets were served before he served himself, tucking into his afternoon snack once he made sure everyone had the same amount to eat and drink. The tea was fragrant with a slight spicy note, the taste was smooth and robust. He took a bite of a biscuit and let out a soft sound at the bursting flavor of tart berries and cinnamon. The merchant was right when they said that the tea paired well with the biscuits. “Ladies, are we enjoying the snack? We have plenty of biscuits if you all want some more!” The silence was deafening in the tent, however, to Quinn, it was filled with vibrant chatter from the dolls and puppets he surrounded himself with. Only he could hear their complaints, their excitement, and their gossip. The Wildclaw poured himself another cup of tea and topped off everyone else’s cups despite the previous liquid still in their cups. They were slower drinkers than Quinn, who was he to judge them for savoring their beverage? Once he finished his second cup of tea, the Wildclaw got up from his seat, his friends’ chatter quieting at his sudden movement. “You ladies enjoy the rest of the tea for me okay? Don’t let it go to waste, ok? I will be right back, I have some mending to do.” And with that, Quinn walked away from the table in search of his tools. The tent was always in a state of disarray, constantly needing to be repaired unless he wanted it to break apart in shambles. Locating his tools somewhere near his sleeping quarters, Quinn picked the box up and a dusty skull from one of his former companions, cleaning said skull with a handkerchief. “You’ve always had a big head, Clarence. I don’t know why you always fought me about that.” Quinn curled his tail around the skull gently, wandering around the tent in search of work. He chatted with Clarence while he worked, not minding that his companion didn’t respond as often as he liked. Quinn wasn’t one to force anyone into talking to him, especially if they weren’t the talkative sort like he was. “This place always needs fixing Clarence, I don’t know what to do. I could use the treasure in the safe to make more purchases since I am running out of thread and fabric to fix the tent. Thankfully we are surrounded by forest, so fixing furniture wouldn’t be too hard to do. I do have to mend the cushions but I don’t have any stuffing. Oh Clarence, whatever shall I do?” The Wildclaw looked at the skull with an exasperated look, in hopes that it could solve his problem. But alas, the skull said nothing like usual, Quinn sighing at the silence. The Wildclaw sighed and returned to his mending, not wanting to bother Clarence any further with idle chatter. The tent was quiet, save for Quinn’s random outbursts from poking his fingers with the sewing needle he had in his claws every once in a while. After his mending, the Wildclaw wandered the tent in search of more work that needed to be done. He stitched new clothes for Molly and repainted Milly’s rosy cheeks. He tossed unrepairable furniture and used salvaged parts to repair ones in better shape. Treasure was getting real tight, Quinn’s funds funneled constantly into the materials to keep the big top in decent shape. He would have to break into the safe in his ringmaster’s office just to keep things in shape, much to his dismay. That safe kept him and his comrades paid and fed, breaking into it would be disrespectful to everyone else. When there wasn’t anything else he could fix, Quinn checked all the dolls, puppets, and the bones of his fallen comrades, making sure they were clean and safe before tucking them into their resting places. With a gentle kiss on top of their foreheads, he bid them adieu to retreat into his quarters. While soaking in a hot bath, he thought of ways to draw in the crowds like his circus used to do before the incident, dreaming of the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ chatter. The smells of buttery popcorn, sweet cotton candy, and roasted nuts. Before he laid his head down, Quinn made a silent promise to himself and the remains of his comrades. He would restore the circus to its former glory, even if it killed him. [/quote]