okay....im dumb.......and moving on auto-pilot just sent pendulum to hibden......so............whoops :p guess after this she tripped on a rock and bonked her head and got whisked off to hibernation haha
okay....im dumb.......and moving on auto-pilot just sent pendulum to hibden......so............whoops :p guess after this she tripped on a rock and bonked her head and got whisked off to hibernation haha
DRAGONS !
[center][b]DAY FOUR[/b]
[item=Discipline]
Battle item - DEATH STREAK[/center]
-----
....but i flipped tails. everyone's safe today!
@BlessedMidoriya
[center][b]DAY FIVE[/b]
[item=Krill]
Seafood - 30-40 rounds[/center]
-----
dice rolls
- 54: Russet, lvl10
- 40: Timepiece, lvl10
- 26: Spizz, lvl25
Venue: Forbidden Portal
[color=red]SLEEPING[/color]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/65748113][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/657482/65748113_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/66650252][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/666503/66650252_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64214100][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/642142/64214100_350.png[/img][/url]
[img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/657482/65748113p.png[/img]
Russet skulked through the trees under the cover of darkness—which should have been a familiar thing, except for the unsettling green tint to every shadow. Days had passed since Interlude's mages had raised their impenetrable sphere of wards, and Russet had yet to adjust.
[i]You need to[/i], she rebuked herself, as she slid one careful, silent foot after the other, edging around roots that tripped and grass that rustled, wings held close to her sides and tail stiff so as to not drag against any undergrowth. [i]You're the clan's scout. You test out the danger before anyone else[/i].
No, she wasn't foolish enough to seek after the Shade-flake on her own, when the rest of her clanmates turned over in fitful, restless sleep. No. Tonight, she hunted someone more impulsive and rash than even the dragons that made up her own band of local miscreants. A scientist.
They weren't hard to track. The clan's meteorologist had never been particularly observant or aware of their effect on the world around them, just focused on that world itself. They left quite the trail of broken twigs, crushed leaves, scuffs in the dirt, and even a thread tugged free of their equipment bag when it had scraped against the rough bark of a tree. And beyond that, Russet had a feeling of where they were going. With the dragons of Interlude forbidden to use the tops of the bare grass, exposed plateaus of the pillars its lair was dug out of, there was only the next highest vantage point in their territory: the top ridge in the forest, with an ancient, scraggly pine tree still clinging to the edge of a steeply sloped cliff.
Russet emerged from the forest silent as shadow, and stealthed up the grassy slope. She needn't have bothered.
"Timepiece," she said into their ear, and felt a twitch of amusement as the wildclaw jumped nigh two strides vertical.
"Russet!" they yelped. "Oh, uh—what, what brings you here? Of all places? In the middle of the night? Outside the allowed range from the lair? Alone?"
"Funny," she replied, with a tilt of her head as she kept her gaze trained steadily on them, as they shifted their stance and avoided looking at her face at all costs. "I was about to ask you the very same thing."
"Oh, you know me," they blustered, ducking down to fiddle with the equipment in the pack resting at their feet. "Busy with my work. Essential stuff, you know. Keeping the clan safe."
Russet glanced upward. Through the greenish translucent dome, she could spy a couple stars. No clouds. "From . . . ?"
Timepiece exploded. "Who knows what! Who knows how the presence of an [i]actual piece of the Shade[/i] will affect weather patterns! Or the dome! The wards! Such a strong and pervasive field of magic is going to [i]mess sh!t up[/i], I know it! Will water vapor even be able to come in and out? What if it rains, but no drops make it through the shield? What if we all sleep, but no rain falls, and by the time we wake up, the whole of the pillars are dead! These are critical questions, and I [i]need to know the answers[/i]. I can't sleep before I know, I just can't!"
"I know," Russet said.
"No, you don't understand, the pressure and wind differentials—you what?" Timepiece looked up, blinking.
And suddenly she couldn't meet their gaze. She kicked at the grass, and her tail lashed. "I drew the short straw as well," she mumbled at last.
"Oh, wow. Really, you?"
"Yes, me," Russet snapped. "Everyone has equal chance of it, even the clan leaders."
"Right, right." They shuffled their feet. "Maybe I shouldn't have stormed out immediately after my draw."
"Maybe," Russet sighed. She walked to the cliff edge and looked out. From this vantage, she could see over the forested pillars, out beyond the Windswept Plateaus. Past the green sphere. Her chest ached.
Timepiece joined her, but sat, perched on the brim like a bird with their claws digging into the peat. No flighted dragon was ever really [i]scared[/i] of heights, but Timepiece had never even feared the fall. They were too busy looking up, watching the clouds rather than their feet and where they were going.
"Was there a third?" they asked quietly.
"Wasn't going to. But Spizz has taken a turn for the worse. Apparently, h-her wounds just won't quite c-close." It was always hard for Russet to talk about what had happened to Spizz, and her acolytes. [i]You're the scout[/i], a voice whispered in her head. [i]You have to face the danger[/i].
[i]Not head-on[/i], she thought back mournfully. She'd always stuck to the shadows, where it was safe to observe, pinpoint weaknesses, strike when no one was looking. But now those same shadows betrayed her.
She cleared her throat. Speaking of. "We should get back," she murmured. "They're waiting for us. And it's—it's not safe, out here. Timepiece, I . . . I don't want to go alone."
They tilted their head. "But you followed me—oh, not that way. But to sleep."
Russet hung her head. "I feel useless. Some of our finest dragons got picked off like they were nothing. And I'm skilled, I'm practiced, but . . ."
"But that's the Shade," Timepiece said.
"It's the Shade," Russet echoed. "And I just don't know."
Timepiece flexed their claws. "I'm being silly. I'm stressing everyone out, aren't I. Storming off, throwing a tantrum. Hauling out my gear here, and for what. Not a damned cloud in the sky."
Russet looked at them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry or—"
They shrugged. "No, you've been helpful. I . . . I didn't want to address it. But I feel the same as you. Yes, there's questions here, and answers to be found. Answers I would [i]kill[/i] to have. But what I [i]would[/i] do and what I [i]should[/i] do . . . well, you've reminded me." Their feathered tail tip flicked around, swiping Russet's leg. "Thanks." They clicked their jaws meditatively. "We should get going. Don't suppose you'll carry some of my stuff back?"
Russet snorted, turning away from the ridge. "[i]You're[/i] the clueless academic bumbling about getting caught in snares and almost eaten by things. I'm the clever, suave rogue who moves through the trees as if I'm of them."
Timepiece scrambled after her, then hesitated. "Do trees move all that fast, though? Academic I may be, but it [i]seems[/i] to me that—"
"Oh, shut it. Let me retain some dignity before I start snoring for deities know how long."
She helped the wildclaw pack up their equipment and settle the several bags on their body, then the two started down the hill, Russet leading as Timepiece followed in her steps the best they could. Just after entering the forest once more, Timepeice hummed. "Hmm."
"We need to be quiet now," she warned.
"Oh, I know," they said carelessly. "But hey. I may have one meteorological question answered."
Russet had to admit, she was curious. "Oh?"
They leaned in. "Shouldn't have to worry about lack of rainfall impacting the region. The quantity of drool you'll produce in hibernation should more than make up for it."
"Timepiece, we meet the flake tonight, I'm shoving you in front."
They clicked happily, and then quieted, letting Russet focus on the task of getting the two of them home safely. She wondered if an end by Shade-corruption would be all that different from the "dreamless sleep". How much could be remembered of either? Though the latter was temporary, she supposed. An interlude between the uncertainty of now, and of the future. Perhaps when she woke, the night would be her friend again.
Russet hoped so. She was tired of living in fear.
-----
again, 10s grouped with a 25 xD russet and timepiece went quickly, and while spizz *almost* made it to thirty matches, a bad couple of battles in a row culminating with one of the frog bosses knocked her out at last. also i did Not mean for this writing bit to be so damb long whoops. should've been in bed a while ago, alas /shoos myself away
@BlessedMidoriya
Russet skulked through the trees under the cover of darkness—which should have been a familiar thing, except for the unsettling green tint to every shadow. Days had passed since Interlude's mages had raised their impenetrable sphere of wards, and Russet had yet to adjust.
You need to, she rebuked herself, as she slid one careful, silent foot after the other, edging around roots that tripped and grass that rustled, wings held close to her sides and tail stiff so as to not drag against any undergrowth. You're the clan's scout. You test out the danger before anyone else.
No, she wasn't foolish enough to seek after the Shade-flake on her own, when the rest of her clanmates turned over in fitful, restless sleep. No. Tonight, she hunted someone more impulsive and rash than even the dragons that made up her own band of local miscreants. A scientist.
They weren't hard to track. The clan's meteorologist had never been particularly observant or aware of their effect on the world around them, just focused on that world itself. They left quite the trail of broken twigs, crushed leaves, scuffs in the dirt, and even a thread tugged free of their equipment bag when it had scraped against the rough bark of a tree. And beyond that, Russet had a feeling of where they were going. With the dragons of Interlude forbidden to use the tops of the bare grass, exposed plateaus of the pillars its lair was dug out of, there was only the next highest vantage point in their territory: the top ridge in the forest, with an ancient, scraggly pine tree still clinging to the edge of a steeply sloped cliff.
Russet emerged from the forest silent as shadow, and stealthed up the grassy slope. She needn't have bothered.
"Timepiece," she said into their ear, and felt a twitch of amusement as the wildclaw jumped nigh two strides vertical.
"Russet!" they yelped. "Oh, uh—what, what brings you here? Of all places? In the middle of the night? Outside the allowed range from the lair? Alone?"
"Funny," she replied, with a tilt of her head as she kept her gaze trained steadily on them, as they shifted their stance and avoided looking at her face at all costs. "I was about to ask you the very same thing."
"Oh, you know me," they blustered, ducking down to fiddle with the equipment in the pack resting at their feet. "Busy with my work. Essential stuff, you know. Keeping the clan safe."
Russet glanced upward. Through the greenish translucent dome, she could spy a couple stars. No clouds. "From . . . ?"
Timepiece exploded. "Who knows what! Who knows how the presence of an actual piece of the Shade will affect weather patterns! Or the dome! The wards! Such a strong and pervasive field of magic is going to mess sh!t up, I know it! Will water vapor even be able to come in and out? What if it rains, but no drops make it through the shield? What if we all sleep, but no rain falls, and by the time we wake up, the whole of the pillars are dead! These are critical questions, and I need to know the answers. I can't sleep before I know, I just can't!"
"I know," Russet said.
"No, you don't understand, the pressure and wind differentials—you what?" Timepiece looked up, blinking.
And suddenly she couldn't meet their gaze. She kicked at the grass, and her tail lashed. "I drew the short straw as well," she mumbled at last.
"Oh, wow. Really, you?"
"Yes, me," Russet snapped. "Everyone has equal chance of it, even the clan leaders."
"Right, right." They shuffled their feet. "Maybe I shouldn't have stormed out immediately after my draw."
"Maybe," Russet sighed. She walked to the cliff edge and looked out. From this vantage, she could see over the forested pillars, out beyond the Windswept Plateaus. Past the green sphere. Her chest ached.
Timepiece joined her, but sat, perched on the brim like a bird with their claws digging into the peat. No flighted dragon was ever really scared of heights, but Timepiece had never even feared the fall. They were too busy looking up, watching the clouds rather than their feet and where they were going.
"Was there a third?" they asked quietly.
"Wasn't going to. But Spizz has taken a turn for the worse. Apparently, h-her wounds just won't quite c-close." It was always hard for Russet to talk about what had happened to Spizz, and her acolytes. You're the scout, a voice whispered in her head. You have to face the danger.
Not head-on, she thought back mournfully. She'd always stuck to the shadows, where it was safe to observe, pinpoint weaknesses, strike when no one was looking. But now those same shadows betrayed her.
She cleared her throat. Speaking of. "We should get back," she murmured. "They're waiting for us. And it's—it's not safe, out here. Timepiece, I . . . I don't want to go alone."
They tilted their head. "But you followed me—oh, not that way. But to sleep."
Russet hung her head. "I feel useless. Some of our finest dragons got picked off like they were nothing. And I'm skilled, I'm practiced, but . . ."
"But that's the Shade," Timepiece said.
"It's the Shade," Russet echoed. "And I just don't know."
Timepiece flexed their claws. "I'm being silly. I'm stressing everyone out, aren't I. Storming off, throwing a tantrum. Hauling out my gear here, and for what. Not a damned cloud in the sky."
Russet looked at them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry or—"
They shrugged. "No, you've been helpful. I . . . I didn't want to address it. But I feel the same as you. Yes, there's questions here, and answers to be found. Answers I would kill to have. But what I would do and what I should do . . . well, you've reminded me." Their feathered tail tip flicked around, swiping Russet's leg. "Thanks." They clicked their jaws meditatively. "We should get going. Don't suppose you'll carry some of my stuff back?"
Russet snorted, turning away from the ridge. "You're the clueless academic bumbling about getting caught in snares and almost eaten by things. I'm the clever, suave rogue who moves through the trees as if I'm of them."
Timepiece scrambled after her, then hesitated. "Do trees move all that fast, though? Academic I may be, but it seems to me that—"
"Oh, shut it. Let me retain some dignity before I start snoring for deities know how long."
She helped the wildclaw pack up their equipment and settle the several bags on their body, then the two started down the hill, Russet leading as Timepiece followed in her steps the best they could. Just after entering the forest once more, Timepeice hummed. "Hmm."
"We need to be quiet now," she warned.
"Oh, I know," they said carelessly. "But hey. I may have one meteorological question answered."
Russet had to admit, she was curious. "Oh?"
They leaned in. "Shouldn't have to worry about lack of rainfall impacting the region. The quantity of drool you'll produce in hibernation should more than make up for it."
"Timepiece, we meet the flake tonight, I'm shoving you in front."
They clicked happily, and then quieted, letting Russet focus on the task of getting the two of them home safely. She wondered if an end by Shade-corruption would be all that different from the "dreamless sleep". How much could be remembered of either? Though the latter was temporary, she supposed. An interlude between the uncertainty of now, and of the future. Perhaps when she woke, the night would be her friend again.
Russet hoped so. She was tired of living in fear.
again, 10s grouped with a 25 xD russet and timepiece went quickly, and while spizz *almost* made it to thirty matches, a bad couple of battles in a row culminating with one of the frog bosses knocked her out at last. also i did Not mean for this writing bit to be so damb long whoops. should've been in bed a while ago, alas /shoos myself away
god i love this writing
i wish i could have my motivation to write about dragons back but alas </3 the writing gods said No
[quote name="BlessedMidoriya" date="2022-03-31 21:05:17" ]
god i love this writing
i wish i could have my motivation to write about dragons back but alas </3 the writing gods said No
[/quote]
@BlessedMidoriya okay but moooood tho. writing Hard and you're v valid
god i love this writing
i wish i could have my motivation to write about dragons back but alas </3 the writing gods said No
@BlessedMidoriya okay but moooood tho. writing Hard and you're v valid
DRAGONS !
[center][b]DAY SIX[/b]
[item=Bottled Embers]
Trinket - Art[/center]
-----
dice roll: 36 - [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/65229094]Jadeite[/url]
drew three pics instead of paying attention in my chem lecture </3 thought it would be fun to include marva's vials for fools day!
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/959593678710661220/PXL_20220401_231817837.MP.jpg[/img]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/959593626864853052/PXL_20220401_231826237.jpg[/img]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/959593343023710278/unknown.png[/img]
writing on the scroll in third pic: "Two vials! From a common friend. - Galore"
@BlessedMidoriya
[center][b]DAY SEVEN[/b]
[item=Berserker]
Battlestone - DEATH STREAK[/center]
-----
coin flip: heads
dice rolls
- 52: Doric (lvl 10)
- 55: Lute (lvl 10)
- 32: Tusk (lvl 10)
venue: Sandswept Delta
[color=red]SLEEPING[/color]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67784843][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/677849/67784843_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/69442233][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/694423/69442233_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67648461][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/676485/67648461_350.png[/img][/url]
[img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/694423/69442233p.png[/img]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/69347537]Loot[/url] wouldn't stop pacing, back and forth, back and forth, in front of the entrance of the two's den.
"You have to let me out sometime," Lute pointed out, his voice light, but gaze gentle as he looked at her. (And tried to ignore the hard, fast beating of his heart.)
"I'm not holding you prisoner," Loot snapped. "We just—we need to talk about this."
"We have talked."
"This is a [i]bad plan[/i]—"
"It's really quite reasonable—"
Loot spun on him, tail lashing. "I should be going with you!" she roared, flaring her wings, every feather and hair on her body set a prickle in her anger—and fear. "It's not fair—not right—they can't just expect us to split apart during times like [i]these[/i]."
Lute hesitated. And though it felt wrong, utterly unlike himself, to say it, he did. "Times like these," he repeated, slowly, feeling out each word in his mouth with distaste before saying it, "I think it's best to listen to clan leaders. They do have more experience than us. And clan unity is important . . .Ugh, gross, can't believe I said that." He shuddered.
But Loot just stared at him, disbelief in her eyes as she shook her head slightly. "Don't you want me there with you?"
Lute went over, butting her jaw with his head as he extended a wing over her, pulling the two of them in close. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her feather crest and just breathing in her scent for a minute. He didn't say anything, just stood close, and eventually Loot sighed, some of the rigidity slipping from her body as she leaned in, pressing her head against his neck.
"We're partners," she whispered, a plea in her voice. "We do everything together."
"We're partners," he agreed. "So, trust me? Trust me to keep our hunters safe."
"I'm not worried about that, you idiot. Who'll keep you safe, without me there?"
And the fear struck, washing through Lute's body in a wave, making his legs tremor. He clung to Loot tighter. "I-I don't know," he said at last, but his voice shook. "But I have to go, do this for them. With Russet asleep, I . . . I need to do more. Actually help this clan, after . . . after everything they've done for us, when we've been, admit it, kinda arseholes."
"Not nearly enough," Loot mumbled.
Lute purred his amusement. He pulled away, to look Loot in the eyes. "You understand me? I—I hardly trust myself. But I want to try." He lifted his chin, swallowing. "To be brave."
She looked at him sadly. "You're terrified. We both are. You shouldn't do this. We should've run away. And now it's too late." She reached forward and ran her teeth over his crest, preening a few feathers into place. "I do understand, I think. I don't like it. I'll be having words with Lamp tonight. But for now . . . I'll trust you." She straightened, pinning him with a hard look. "More than you might for yourself."
Lute took a deep breath, and nodded.
"Most likely, the team won't run into the flake at all," Loot pointed out. Now that she'd accepted him joining the hunting trip, it seemed she was reassuring herself by encouraging him. "Doric knows the forest better than anyone in the clan, and Tusk's sturdy, reliable. They'll both keep their heads." She nodded convincingly. "You see that crumb, you knock it out with your magic."
She stepped in close, shoving her face up close to his, and hissed, "Then run. [i]Bravery[/i] only gets you so far. Get your hide back here in one piece or I'll flay it myself."
Lute nipped at her horns gently. "You know I will."
She didn't move, eyes boring into his. "I'm trusting you. Swear it. Don't try and be a hero."
"Furthest thing from my mind," he promised quietly. Another flutter of anxiety spun through his chest. [i]Just a hunting trip[/i]. His team wouldn't even see the Shade-flake. Probably.
"I swear."
-----
spoiler alert they saw the flake, and lute's piper magic did not work :p the three did high-tail it outta there, with the flake snapping at their heels, and when they got back to the safety (relatively speaking) of the lair they found their hunting catch ruined, spoiled by being near the Shade's influence, and all three got nightmares/stomaches during the night, which was taken as potential corruption, so the three went into hibernation. yeehaw!
while doric got hit pretty badly and didn't make it past round five, lute and tusk almost made it through the ten rounds in delta, but beefed it on round nine :p
@BlessedMidoriya
Loot wouldn't stop pacing, back and forth, back and forth, in front of the entrance of the two's den.
"You have to let me out sometime," Lute pointed out, his voice light, but gaze gentle as he looked at her. (And tried to ignore the hard, fast beating of his heart.)
"I'm not holding you prisoner," Loot snapped. "We just—we need to talk about this."
"We have talked."
"This is a bad plan—"
"It's really quite reasonable—"
Loot spun on him, tail lashing. "I should be going with you!" she roared, flaring her wings, every feather and hair on her body set a prickle in her anger—and fear. "It's not fair—not right—they can't just expect us to split apart during times like these."
Lute hesitated. And though it felt wrong, utterly unlike himself, to say it, he did. "Times like these," he repeated, slowly, feeling out each word in his mouth with distaste before saying it, "I think it's best to listen to clan leaders. They do have more experience than us. And clan unity is important . . .Ugh, gross, can't believe I said that." He shuddered.
But Loot just stared at him, disbelief in her eyes as she shook her head slightly. "Don't you want me there with you?"
Lute went over, butting her jaw with his head as he extended a wing over her, pulling the two of them in close. He closed his eyes, burying his face into her feather crest and just breathing in her scent for a minute. He didn't say anything, just stood close, and eventually Loot sighed, some of the rigidity slipping from her body as she leaned in, pressing her head against his neck.
"We're partners," she whispered, a plea in her voice. "We do everything together."
"We're partners," he agreed. "So, trust me? Trust me to keep our hunters safe."
"I'm not worried about that, you idiot. Who'll keep you safe, without me there?"
And the fear struck, washing through Lute's body in a wave, making his legs tremor. He clung to Loot tighter. "I-I don't know," he said at last, but his voice shook. "But I have to go, do this for them. With Russet asleep, I . . . I need to do more. Actually help this clan, after . . . after everything they've done for us, when we've been, admit it, kinda arseholes."
"Not nearly enough," Loot mumbled.
Lute purred his amusement. He pulled away, to look Loot in the eyes. "You understand me? I—I hardly trust myself. But I want to try." He lifted his chin, swallowing. "To be brave."
She looked at him sadly. "You're terrified. We both are. You shouldn't do this. We should've run away. And now it's too late." She reached forward and ran her teeth over his crest, preening a few feathers into place. "I do understand, I think. I don't like it. I'll be having words with Lamp tonight. But for now . . . I'll trust you." She straightened, pinning him with a hard look. "More than you might for yourself."
Lute took a deep breath, and nodded.
"Most likely, the team won't run into the flake at all," Loot pointed out. Now that she'd accepted him joining the hunting trip, it seemed she was reassuring herself by encouraging him. "Doric knows the forest better than anyone in the clan, and Tusk's sturdy, reliable. They'll both keep their heads." She nodded convincingly. "You see that crumb, you knock it out with your magic."
She stepped in close, shoving her face up close to his, and hissed, "Then run. Bravery only gets you so far. Get your hide back here in one piece or I'll flay it myself."
Lute nipped at her horns gently. "You know I will."
She didn't move, eyes boring into his. "I'm trusting you. Swear it. Don't try and be a hero."
"Furthest thing from my mind," he promised quietly. Another flutter of anxiety spun through his chest. Just a hunting trip. His team wouldn't even see the Shade-flake. Probably.
"I swear."
spoiler alert they saw the flake, and lute's piper magic did not work :p the three did high-tail it outta there, with the flake snapping at their heels, and when they got back to the safety (relatively speaking) of the lair they found their hunting catch ruined, spoiled by being near the Shade's influence, and all three got nightmares/stomaches during the night, which was taken as potential corruption, so the three went into hibernation. yeehaw!
while doric got hit pretty badly and didn't make it past round five, lute and tusk almost made it through the ten rounds in delta, but beefed it on round nine :p
[center][b]DAY EIGHT[/b]
[item=Simple Red Fez]
Apparel - Extra life[/center]
-----
coin flip: tails! extra life gets administered to random derg
dice roll: 53
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/74943221]glowstick[/url] again! xD so she has an extra chance against hibernation o.o
@BlessedMidoriya
[center][b]DAY TEN[/b]
[item=Sheep]
Meat - 40-50 rounds[/center]
-----
dice rolls:
- 18: Tangle (lvl10)
- 13: Gibbous (lvl25)
- 43: Hourglass (lvl10)
venue: Kelp Beds
[color=red]SLEEPING:[/color]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/65864368][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/658644/65864368_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63632117][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/636322/63632117_350.png[/img][/url]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/71642604][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/716427/71642604_350.png[/img][/url]
[img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/636322/63632117p.png[/img]
Gibb skidded to a stop into the clearing to see—a massive starry obelisk leaning all its weight down into one forefoot, grinding a whirling, shrieking mass of darkness into the ground, the dragon's face twisted into a soundless snarl—Tangle lying still on her side as if dead to the right—a falcon, Hourglass's companion, screeching and flying in erratic circles above the scene, occasionally folding its wings to dive-bomb at the darkness pinned by Hourglass's claws, only to be rebuffed by a flick of the Shade-flake's flailing essence.
Gibb stared only a second, long enough to catch his breath, then had to bellow to be heard above that terrible, head-splitting howl from the flake. "Hourglass, stop! Release it!"
The obelisk shook its mane, lips peeled back to show its fangs as it bore down heavier on the Shade-flake. Even with its whole weight pressing down atop it, the obelisk struggled to hold the flake down, and—and—
"[i]Hourglass[/i]," Gibb roared, "[i]your skin is melting away![/i]"
The star-metal Hourglass was made up of wasn't actually skin, and nor was it [i]melting[/i] exactly—but from the mirror's perspective, he could see thin slices of Hourglass's head, torso, and the foot holding the Shade-flake curl and strip off. But still the obelisk did not budge, except to try and readjust its grip on the Shade-flake, and dig its claws more fully into it as it writhed and screamed and lashed out with disintegrating bolts of power.
Gibb leapt forward, keeping low to the earth to avoid being hit by the flake's essence, and pounced on Hourglass's flank. A slash from the flake nearly bashed him away and he grabbed for his clanmate in desperation. At first his claws merely scraped off the smooth metal—but then caught, the metal softening enough for him to sink his claws in and grip tight. So it was aware of him there—it was listening, just not persuaded yet.
"Hourglass! Not just you and I will die here—Tangle's hurt."
The obelisk's head snapped up. At its distraction, the Shade-flake coiled and sprang, slipping past Hourglass's claws to stab directly into its face. It howled, loosening its grasp as it backpedaled, nearly crushing Gibb before he lunged out of the way, and the Shade-flake let out one last piercing wail before darting into the trees and disappearing from view.
Gibb turned to Hourglass, sagging in relief, only to see the obelisk clawing madly at its head, not merely as if to scratch an itch, but digging the whole of its foot in and ripping chunks of its metal out.
"What are you do—" But then he saw the blackness eating its way through the metal debris, devouring the starry swirls of navy and gold and warping it into twisted, grotesque shapes. And he understood all too well.
Gibbous jumped on the nearest corrupted slab and slashed at it with claws and tail, breathing fire and smashing it against the ground until the leeching magic within trickled out and failed, crumbling the metal into an ash-like powder. Careful not to let any of the corruption scratch his skin or enter his mouth, Gibb went through the discarded hunks of metal as Hourglass raked them out, destroying them one by one.
At last, they stood there, panting, shaking, wide-eyed. Alive. Gibb looked Hourglass over carefully as the large gaps in its head and torso slowly began to reform, but the new metal was untainted.
"You're safe," he told it, and the immense obelisk sank back onto its haunches, exhausted. Its falcon flitted down to its shoulder and preened at its mane, but Hourglass took no note, merely bowing its head. It twittered a high-pitched melody, which Gibb knew it used to show thanks to others, though this song was tinged with sadness.
He gave it an encouraging nudge, then stiffly walked over to Tangle, praying to the Windsinger—the banescale was still breathing. He looked her over, but found no physical injury . . .
"Tangle," he whispered, and the banescale stirred, eyes opening to roll slowly around to land on Gibbous. They were starched completely black, sclera and iris and all. She didn't move, just stared without emotion.
Gibb swallowed. He spoke carefully. "Tangle, I need you to repeat after me. Alright? Say the same things I do." Softly, he chanted the spell to make oneself enter the dreamless sleep, and Tangle echoed him flatly, voice gurgling a little as her tongue was sloth to move in her throat, void eyes unblinking as she stared dully up at Gibbous . . . then sank shut, and the banescale's breathing slowed, and she slept.
At last, Gibb sat down, and took a rest.
-----
is it just me or does the sheep item and sheep item recolors just look. threatening. i think it would kill me in my sleep
@BlessedMidoriya
Gibb skidded to a stop into the clearing to see—a massive starry obelisk leaning all its weight down into one forefoot, grinding a whirling, shrieking mass of darkness into the ground, the dragon's face twisted into a soundless snarl—Tangle lying still on her side as if dead to the right—a falcon, Hourglass's companion, screeching and flying in erratic circles above the scene, occasionally folding its wings to dive-bomb at the darkness pinned by Hourglass's claws, only to be rebuffed by a flick of the Shade-flake's flailing essence.
Gibb stared only a second, long enough to catch his breath, then had to bellow to be heard above that terrible, head-splitting howl from the flake. "Hourglass, stop! Release it!"
The obelisk shook its mane, lips peeled back to show its fangs as it bore down heavier on the Shade-flake. Even with its whole weight pressing down atop it, the obelisk struggled to hold the flake down, and—and—
"Hourglass," Gibb roared, "your skin is melting away!"
The star-metal Hourglass was made up of wasn't actually skin, and nor was it melting exactly—but from the mirror's perspective, he could see thin slices of Hourglass's head, torso, and the foot holding the Shade-flake curl and strip off. But still the obelisk did not budge, except to try and readjust its grip on the Shade-flake, and dig its claws more fully into it as it writhed and screamed and lashed out with disintegrating bolts of power.
Gibb leapt forward, keeping low to the earth to avoid being hit by the flake's essence, and pounced on Hourglass's flank. A slash from the flake nearly bashed him away and he grabbed for his clanmate in desperation. At first his claws merely scraped off the smooth metal—but then caught, the metal softening enough for him to sink his claws in and grip tight. So it was aware of him there—it was listening, just not persuaded yet.
"Hourglass! Not just you and I will die here—Tangle's hurt."
The obelisk's head snapped up. At its distraction, the Shade-flake coiled and sprang, slipping past Hourglass's claws to stab directly into its face. It howled, loosening its grasp as it backpedaled, nearly crushing Gibb before he lunged out of the way, and the Shade-flake let out one last piercing wail before darting into the trees and disappearing from view.
Gibb turned to Hourglass, sagging in relief, only to see the obelisk clawing madly at its head, not merely as if to scratch an itch, but digging the whole of its foot in and ripping chunks of its metal out.
"What are you do—" But then he saw the blackness eating its way through the metal debris, devouring the starry swirls of navy and gold and warping it into twisted, grotesque shapes. And he understood all too well.
Gibbous jumped on the nearest corrupted slab and slashed at it with claws and tail, breathing fire and smashing it against the ground until the leeching magic within trickled out and failed, crumbling the metal into an ash-like powder. Careful not to let any of the corruption scratch his skin or enter his mouth, Gibb went through the discarded hunks of metal as Hourglass raked them out, destroying them one by one.
At last, they stood there, panting, shaking, wide-eyed. Alive. Gibb looked Hourglass over carefully as the large gaps in its head and torso slowly began to reform, but the new metal was untainted.
"You're safe," he told it, and the immense obelisk sank back onto its haunches, exhausted. Its falcon flitted down to its shoulder and preened at its mane, but Hourglass took no note, merely bowing its head. It twittered a high-pitched melody, which Gibb knew it used to show thanks to others, though this song was tinged with sadness.
He gave it an encouraging nudge, then stiffly walked over to Tangle, praying to the Windsinger—the banescale was still breathing. He looked her over, but found no physical injury . . .
"Tangle," he whispered, and the banescale stirred, eyes opening to roll slowly around to land on Gibbous. They were starched completely black, sclera and iris and all. She didn't move, just stared without emotion.
Gibb swallowed. He spoke carefully. "Tangle, I need you to repeat after me. Alright? Say the same things I do." Softly, he chanted the spell to make oneself enter the dreamless sleep, and Tangle echoed him flatly, voice gurgling a little as her tongue was sloth to move in her throat, void eyes unblinking as she stared dully up at Gibbous . . . then sank shut, and the banescale's breathing slowed, and she slept.
At last, Gibb sat down, and took a rest.
is it just me or does the sheep item and sheep item recolors just look. threatening. i think it would kill me in my sleep
