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Roleplay

Tell stories and roleplay in the world of Flight Rising.
TOPIC | 1x1 w/ PastelPerryton
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little ping @PastelPerryton! ^^))
little ping @PastelPerryton! ^^))

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[center][font= times new roman][b][i]Lillith[/i][/b] Shades of Roses [emoji=rose size=1] The swelter of everpresent miasma hung thick in the air. Distant noise muffled like radio static as wind whiped and lashed angrily, forced aside. Faint flight trails hardly visible in smoke and sickness. Landing in these wastes was just as much a death sentence as the turf war behind her. To return would be to end up court marshaled. An execution. Lillith huffed. massive wings keeping her airborne across rolling expanses, lush with bones and fragrant infection, carmine hues paint a splendorous sky. Reflecting in excrutiating accuracy every throb of pain through the ridgebacks body, nausea mounting a well time assault in her absence. Redirection. Her leg, limp and numb. Crooked like the skeletal trees littering the expanse far below her. Broken, just like the rest of this place. Aching nerves pinched Between stakes of bone, grinding with every jerked motion or harsh bank. Landing would be dangerous here, far from support or aid. The ridgeback huffed and swung her wings down forcefully. Picking back up into the air, gaining altitude once more. To land with no hope of returning airborne would be her demise, she knew. Though through tired onset the ridgeback flew, and thought only of lying still. Of rest. Oh how she ached and yearned. The grpund would greet her as though an old friend. Oh how lovely it would be to rest easy, to lay down her head. Safety wouod take no part in it. Her eyes drew low and fluttered, survival was the only goal, exhaustion would get her, drown her, maim her. Her wings tucked gently ad the ridgeback floated to the ground. Landing carefully among the diseased lands below her feet. Trodding to find a stable patch of earth to rest her body on. Some form of solace in a desolate place. [emoji=rose size=1]
Lillith
Shades of Roses



The swelter of everpresent miasma hung thick in the air. Distant noise muffled like radio static as wind whiped and lashed angrily, forced aside. Faint flight trails hardly visible in smoke and sickness. Landing in these wastes was just as much a death sentence as the turf war behind her. To return would be to end up court marshaled. An execution. Lillith huffed. massive wings keeping her airborne across rolling expanses, lush with bones and fragrant infection, carmine hues paint a splendorous sky. Reflecting in excrutiating accuracy every throb of pain through the ridgebacks body, nausea mounting a well time assault in her absence. Redirection. Her leg, limp and numb. Crooked like the skeletal trees littering the expanse far below her. Broken, just like the rest of this place. Aching nerves pinched Between stakes of bone, grinding with every jerked motion or harsh bank.

Landing would be dangerous here, far from support or aid. The ridgeback huffed and swung her wings down forcefully. Picking back up into the air, gaining altitude once more. To land with no hope of returning airborne would be her demise, she knew. Though through tired onset the ridgeback flew, and thought only of lying still. Of rest. Oh how she ached and yearned. The grpund would greet her as though an old friend. Oh how lovely it would be to rest easy, to lay down her head. Safety wouod take no part in it.

Her eyes drew low and fluttered, survival was the only goal, exhaustion would get her, drown her, maim her. Her wings tucked gently ad the ridgeback floated to the ground. Landing carefully among the diseased lands below her feet. Trodding to find a stable patch of earth to rest her body on. Some form of solace in a desolate place.

~he/him ~ ArtShop ~ +2 frt ~ Pasta ~ WL~

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[center][font= times new roman][b][i]Runa[/i][/b] Shadows and Mirrors [emoji=crescent moon 2 size=1] Talons swirled in the dirt as her wings fluttered open and closed, her head fins flicking in unbothered interest. Lithe form resting in the boughs of a dying tree. its skeletal figure propping the small mirror like its last elegant bloom. held close and safe in its spindled figure. Skin stretched thin over lean muscle and visible bone as the dragoness yawned. Her jaw opened wide enough for lips to peel back over blackened gums before closing again. The mirror turned her attentions from watching the caustic plains to grooming all the little nooks of her wings and limbs. Ensuring she had not developed any festering pustules or sicknesses. The young mirrors attention casually flitted about, looking around her packmates quietly. Headache bubbling in the back of her mind, a sort of everpresent thing. Dehydration, sickness, and wafting fumes carrying spores, mold, and disease. All played a crucial role in the way she and this pack functioned, so was her observation at the least. The night brought a strange chill to the air, like one could expect in a desert. One that dug its nails deep into her hide and bones. Runa looked across her pack, eyes coming to rest on a quiet individual, she couldn't tell whether or not she was asleep from here, a frown drew itself across her features a moment before she stood and slunk down off her perch. Pacing on quiet feet to Belladonnas side, nudging the flat on her head to her jaw. "This night is a most chilled one and my mind won't silence itself." She would never outright admit to her own loneliness, nor her weakness, as it had been regarded some terrible shortcoming. Though the longing for gentleness, for comfort, it was a terrible thing, strong and frightfull. It would drag her to her knees if ever she let it. [emoji=crescent moon 2 size=1]
Runa
Shadows and Mirrors



Talons swirled in the dirt as her wings fluttered open and closed, her head fins flicking in unbothered interest. Lithe form resting in the boughs of a dying tree. its skeletal figure propping the small mirror like its last elegant bloom. held close and safe in its spindled figure. Skin stretched thin over lean muscle and visible bone as the dragoness yawned. Her jaw opened wide enough for lips to peel back over blackened gums before closing again. The mirror turned her attentions from watching the caustic plains to grooming all the little nooks of her wings and limbs. Ensuring she had not developed any festering pustules or sicknesses.

The young mirrors attention casually flitted about, looking around her packmates quietly. Headache bubbling in the back of her mind, a sort of everpresent thing. Dehydration, sickness, and wafting fumes carrying spores, mold, and disease. All played a crucial role in the way she and this pack functioned, so was her observation at the least. The night brought a strange chill to the air, like one could expect in a desert. One that dug its nails deep into her hide and bones.

Runa looked across her pack, eyes coming to rest on a quiet individual, she couldn't tell whether or not she was asleep from here, a frown drew itself across her features a moment before she stood and slunk down off her perch. Pacing on quiet feet to Belladonnas side, nudging the flat on her head to her jaw.

"This night is a most chilled one and my mind won't silence itself."

She would never outright admit to her own loneliness, nor her weakness, as it had been regarded some terrible shortcoming. Though the longing for gentleness, for comfort, it was a terrible thing, strong and frightfull. It would drag her to her knees if ever she let it.


~he/him ~ ArtShop ~ +2 frt ~ Pasta ~ WL~

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Sorry work has been busy, setting up for valentines in floral is icky))
Sorry work has been busy, setting up for valentines in floral is icky))
~he/him ~ ArtShop ~ +2 frt ~ Pasta ~ WL~

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no worries! i'm a bit busy this week as well :) ))
no worries! i'm a bit busy this week as well :) ))

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sorry this's taken so long! i'll reply more promptly in the future))

Belladonna had been watching her fellow packmates as they'd gradually grown more and more restless over the course of the sunset, pacing and snapping irritably at each other. The night had infected them all with agitation, it seemed- she suspected hunger as the culprit.

She dug her hooked claws into the ground as a scraggly Mirror circled back around their makeshift camp. There was something familiar in his eyes; an eerie anticipation. She saw it in her packmates' eyes and saw it in reflections of her own, knew it as well as she knew the thrill of the chase and the hunt and the swarm. Primal hunger. The others would only grow more agitated, until they began to howl, and then they would be off.

She looked up at Runa's approach, scarred face twisting into a grin. As Runa came nearer, Belladonna swept a wing over her back. She had a soft spot for the young mirror, saw her younger self in her. The loneliness, the desperation, the uncertainty. Belladonna couldn't help but care for Runa how she could, expressing it through actions rather than words.

"The others are getting restless as well," she answered. Then, after a moment's deliberation, "We could go hunting. Away from the others, so that there's no blood spilled over who gets to eat first."
sorry this's taken so long! i'll reply more promptly in the future))

Belladonna had been watching her fellow packmates as they'd gradually grown more and more restless over the course of the sunset, pacing and snapping irritably at each other. The night had infected them all with agitation, it seemed- she suspected hunger as the culprit.

She dug her hooked claws into the ground as a scraggly Mirror circled back around their makeshift camp. There was something familiar in his eyes; an eerie anticipation. She saw it in her packmates' eyes and saw it in reflections of her own, knew it as well as she knew the thrill of the chase and the hunt and the swarm. Primal hunger. The others would only grow more agitated, until they began to howl, and then they would be off.

She looked up at Runa's approach, scarred face twisting into a grin. As Runa came nearer, Belladonna swept a wing over her back. She had a soft spot for the young mirror, saw her younger self in her. The loneliness, the desperation, the uncertainty. Belladonna couldn't help but care for Runa how she could, expressing it through actions rather than words.

"The others are getting restless as well," she answered. Then, after a moment's deliberation, "We could go hunting. Away from the others, so that there's no blood spilled over who gets to eat first."

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k0y5XOQ.png
CIvQ3bf.png
LRdLP2V.png
a5jtoDO.png
[center][font= times new roman][b][i]Runa[/i][/b] Shadows and Mirrors [emoji=crescent moon 2 size=1] Sickle like claws adorned hands that shifted uncomfortably beneath the lean bodied mirror as she stood by Belladonna. Her head fins falling low as she watched the churning woken mass of her pack nothing more than a decissively sickened mound of muscle and minds, stretched far past their limits. They were so very sick, it hurt to be near them, to watch them go mad. It was a sickening sight. It made nausea a burning constant in her throat to so much as spare a glance. They hardly seemed alive... Runa flexed her jaw and turned her gaze down, eyes no longer focused on the details. She could feel their illness, smell their dread, see the roving masses of heat no matter how she tried to cast them out. "Please? I cannot be here anymore, I fear I'll go mad." She wardbled in a broken and quiet voice, keeping her tone low to avoid the packs attentions. Her stature was that of a tired yet guarded individual. Ready to move out if prompted or embrace the earth beneath if left be. Small sores pocketed in areas of major flexion. Namely leg and wing joints. Kept clean enough though still healing slow. The smaller and weaker of these roving packs of gnashing teeth tended to sport poor health. With less access to resources with which to support their lumbering bodies, most did not last long or well here. "I would enjoy to hunt with one who is fair." [emoji=crescent moon 2 size=1] ((I am so so sorry, I absolutely forgot to post this))
Runa
Shadows and Mirrors



Sickle like claws adorned hands that shifted uncomfortably beneath the lean bodied mirror as she stood by Belladonna. Her head fins falling low as she watched the churning woken mass of her pack nothing more than a decissively sickened mound of muscle and minds, stretched far past their limits. They were so very sick, it hurt to be near them, to watch them go mad. It was a sickening sight. It made nausea a burning constant in her throat to so much as spare a glance. They hardly seemed alive... Runa flexed her jaw and turned her gaze down, eyes no longer focused on the details. She could feel their illness, smell their dread, see the roving masses of heat no matter how she tried to cast them out.

"Please? I cannot be here anymore, I fear I'll go mad."

She wardbled in a broken and quiet voice, keeping her tone low to avoid the packs attentions. Her stature was that of a tired yet guarded individual. Ready to move out if prompted or embrace the earth beneath if left be. Small sores pocketed in areas of major flexion. Namely leg and wing joints. Kept clean enough though still healing slow. The smaller and weaker of these roving packs of gnashing teeth tended to sport poor health. With less access to resources with which to support their lumbering bodies, most did not last long or well here.

"I would enjoy to hunt with one who is fair."



((I am so so sorry, I absolutely forgot to post this))
~he/him ~ ArtShop ~ +2 frt ~ Pasta ~ WL~

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