Mine just grew up this morning. He's about as Hallifaxian as they come, but I was planning to post descriptions after our inevitable zimoru adventures.
A menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail.
Skipping jauntily, a menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail stalks here.
This menacing maned lion is a lazy creature with a sleek, golden pelt and a blonde swishing tail. Deep orange eyes stare out from the dark triangles set within its long, flat face. Skipping jauntily, the lion stands proudly, even with the thick leather reins securely fastened to its head. A regal saddle decorated with jungle motifs has been fitted securely between the lion's strong shoulders and backside. He is called 'Mufasa.'
A menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail seems to be unafraid.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Just in case anyone hasn't had a chance to catch Trem in her Cursed state, this is her after having been found and cared for, I'm afraid I won't be sharing the Full Curse where her body is trying to eat itself.
[spoiler]She is a fiendish viscanti demigoddess and her eyebrows are the same snowy white as her hair, ragged around their edges and arched in a naturally elegant curve. Pale lips, unpainted, remain pressed together in a thin line more often than not, revealing jagged fangs when they do part. All traces of makeup on her face have been carefully wiped clean, no colour apparent anywhere on her cold, pale skin. Her almond shaped eyes display no emotion, the right iris staring forward with a perfectly reflective grey sheen, mirroring back all that it sees. Her left eye shares the colouration, though some of the six smaller irises surrounding the larger, center one are varying degrees of monochrominity from white to black. Short hair has been lovingly wound into a Delportian braid that circles her head like an ivory halo halo, strands that are elegant, yet uneven, hanging straight and glossy behind her ears. Porcelain, doll-like skin covers her body, the only obvious fault an angry, pulsing mark nestled in the hollow of her throat. Taint pours from this mark like an open wound, seeping around her and coalescing in an angry, vicious maelstrom of blackened purple fog. Her every movement is directed by the fog, skeletal claws forming and dissipating to grasp at her limbs, and manouevre them to place with deft skill. While it seems there is no end to the number that pop out at a given time, two remain ever present, rising from the darkness that makes up her shadow to hang over her shoulders at the ready. Occasionally a fiendish whisper will echo through the fog, repeating a name before dying out. Trace amounts of muscle decorate her limbs, though it is obvious there was once more, and she appears waifish for a woman of nine and a half feet of height. A heavy, fur-lined cloak has been hung about her shoulders and secured with a delicately bowed knot carefully, a loving symbol of care. She is wearing a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, a webbed wedding band of platinum, an iridescent white fractal flower brooch, metallic slippers of smoke-grey silver, a smoke-scented gown of burning empires and a svelte, lupine cloak of coppery brown furs.[/spoiler]
This winding path curls past the bulk of the temple towards a wilder, less manicured forest. Here, the stone beds bear wyrden flora growing in and through the skulls of various beasts: thorns curl around the antlers of a hapless stag, while roses bloom in the eye sockets of a dragon. One beast is unrecognizable, its bones bearing inclusions of strange alien gems: through this, a savage, well-used spear has been plunged. Along the length of the weapon's haft, the leather dressings bear the crude symbols of Shikari, the Predator.
Skylights have been torn open here, leaving gaping wounds in the once-grand arch of the ceiling. Brambles filled with fleshy ebon roses spill in through these, hanging in loose cascades scant handspans above the ground. The smell here is of the rich wet earth, the rotting of flowers, and a moist foulness like something rancid and spoilt.
Ruins ring this courtyard, choked beneath the weight of the Wyrden Forest that allows them further survival. At the centre of the broken pavement, a pool, perfectly round, bears a still, ebon fluid. Perfect and undisturbed, the basin's only impingement upon the environment is a distortion of the air above, a shifting of subtle shadow and web-like outlines that fade as the eye regards them.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
All of her weapons are a ridiculous size, too. Here's her greatsword.
a greatsword with an extended blade the colour of wine
Boasting a blade easily six feet long and two feet wide at the base, this gargantuan greatsword is an undisputed champion in terms of size. Closer inspection would suggest that at one time the blade may have been much shorter, but a second blade was added to its back, allowing both blades to eclipse their previous form in a much grander sum. Even bereft of the impressive extension, the exquisite handiwork of a master craftsman has ensured that this weapon is still quite capable of garnering attention with its alluring complexion. The shaft's pattern-welded steel has been folded an innumerable number of times, colouring the blade a deep shade of red that lightens and darkens in accord with every movement through the air, creating an optical illusion of wine rushing along the length of the steel. The black iron of the crossguard has been painstakingly carved into wings, the two foot long extensions pressing outwards before curving subtly towards the blade's very tip. The grip itself is almost a foot of length in itself, the image of a noble viscanti woman etched into the caliginous metal. She stands atop a cylindrical basin that concludes the grip, her hooded face bowed in prayer above hands crossed over her chest. The pommel is a large teardrop of sparkling lapis lazuli, heavy laden with all the colours of the dusky sky and streaks of gold throughout. Dark iron talons grasp the precious gem tightly to the hilt, bringing a full stop to this exquisite masterpiece.
I have the Sun fae and the named Dawnburst druid descriptions, anyone have the following descriptions? + Hunters of Shorn Corona + a Dawnburst Druid + Knight of Glorious Dawn + Queen Maeve when she was the Solar Queen + The little fae girl as the Once and Future Queen + The Lord Mahaadi
This adorable groundhog seems to be in constant motion, even when its standing at attention in search of danger with its twitching black nose and ears that turn towards alarming sounds. The black fur of its tail and paws stands out against the rich brown fur covering the rest of its body and sharp claws make short work of burrowing rapidly into the soil to escape a serious threat. There lies a strange device on its back with blinking lights and infused crystals connecting its brain stem and spine.
A furry, enhanced groundhog seems to be unafraid.
He is strangely weightless.
You cannot see what a furry, enhanced groundhog is holding.
She is a radiant immortal and yet, even in Her effervescence, She bears a diminutive and insignificant form more akin to a mortal's than the implausible figures of Her kin. Barely four foot from the top of Her head to the tips of Her bare toes, the Welkin has blue-grey skin that shifts with Her every movement, rippling like clouds in the sky. Thin, asymmetrical locks fall to frame Her face, clipped close to Her head on one side and reaching to Her collarbone on the other. Far darker than Her skin, Czixi's hair flits from every shade of indigo through to ebony, with highlights that take on a greyer tone. Her features are otherwise unremarkable, save for the slight turn to Her perpetually darting eyes and the darker hue of Her lips. And yet, despite all this, there is an intensity to Her presence that belies mortality - a piercing awareness that overwhelms Her forgettable form. It lives in every inch of Her bearing as She alternates between constant, agitated movement and impossibly perfect stillness, and lingers even in the moments after Her departure. She is wearing 2 ebony scabbards hidden within the ribbons of Her cloak, a faintly mottled ivory tunic beneath Her armour, multiple pieces of immaculately tooled leather armour and a fluttering cloak of frayed faille.
Since I got my changeling cameo I'm going to slowly be adding into my description list until I have every race. They will be shared here, for my personal entertainment and so I don't lose them.
[spoiler] Faeling: She is a nimble faeling fiery demigoddess changeling and is a veritable giant for normal faeling, standing at five feet tall, five and a half if you count her wings. Her face is pointy and has a harsh beauty to it, beginning at the large, almond-shaped eyes that are capped by elegantly arched ebon eyebrows and dusted by a light layer of grey kohl. Completely colourless, her right eye holds a perfect, watery translucence, and all seven of the irises of her left eye share its colouration in their asterisk-shaped formation. A soft, almost mocking smile graces her thin lips, which are painted a deep indigo, flashes of pearly white teeth revealing that the majority of her teeth are pointed into grisly fangs when they part. Sparkling across the bridge of her nose are a smattering of freckles that may very well be glitter, as they do not mar her alabaster flesh and sparkle enticingly. Her long limbs and swannish curve of her neck adds a second sense of frailty to her appearance beyond her height, her limbs twig-thin and possibly too elongated. Trailing behind her when she walks is a long train of furs, the cloak safeguarding her fair skin from the harsh light of the sun or the brisk bite of a chill wind, firmly and snuggly tied in a neat bow at the hollow of her throat. Where one would expect slits to need to be cut for her wings, it appears for all intents and purposes that they are made entirely of blistering waves of heat that blossom from where her shoulder blades should be from a deep blue to a light orange, the same asterisk-image of her eyes embedded in white-hot flames in place of any natural pattern of veins. She is wearing a suit of black, chitinous lamellar plate, a svelte lupine cloak of coppery brown furs, a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, and the Pendant of the Obsidian Flame.
Viscanti: She is a fiendish viscanti fiery demigoddess changeing and ebon-black eyebrows arch elegantly over almond-shaped eyes dusted with a light layer of grey kohl. Completely colourless, the right eye holds a perfect, watery translucence, and all seven of the irises of her left share its colouration in their asterisk-shaped formation. A soft smile graces her full lips, which are painted a deep wine, flashes of pearly white teeth revealing fanged canines and bicuspids when the carmine flesh is parted. Her make-up is nearly nonexistant otherwise, only flaint traces of glittering blush adorning her cheeks and stretching across the bridge of her nose. From her long limbs to the swannish curve of her neck, porcelain, doll-like skin covers her body, sparkling and enticingly perfect as if gems were embedded beneath the skin. Safeguarding her fair skin from the harsh light of the sun or the brisk bite of a chill wind, the cascade of fur that is her cloak is tied snuggly in a neat bow at the hollow of her throat. She stands at an intimidating nine feet and five inches of height, her muscle toned, and moves with an elegance and grace that bespeaks her noble heritage. She is wearing a suit of black, chitinous lamellar plate, a svelte lupine cloak of coppery brown furs, a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, and the Pendant of the Obsidian Flame. [/spoiler]
The chicken is snow white with jet black wings, standing proudly at one foot tall. Fitted expertly over her avian form is a velvet gown of deep blue-black, draped in elegant folds that puddle on the floor. A necklace of perfect sapphires glitter around her neck and a small platinum circlet with an exquisite diamond rests on her head. A golden eye mask inset with gems is balanced on her beak out of which burn her eyes of blue fire. She struts around with a superior attitude, obviously not your average chicken, surrounded by a nimbus of preternatural energy. A chicken in an elegant gown almost glows with nearly god-like power. She weighs about 5 pounds. You cannot see what a chicken in an elegant gown is holding. It has the following aliases: chicken, bird.
The chicken is snow white with jet black wings, standing proudly at one foot tall. Fitted expertly over her avian form is a velvet gown of deep blue-black, draped in elegant folds that puddle on the floor. A necklace of perfect sapphires glitter around her neck and a small platinum circlet with an exquisite diamond rests on her head. A golden eye mask inset with gems is balanced on her beak out of which burn her eyes of blue fire. She struts around with a superior attitude, obviously not your average chicken, surrounded by a nimbus of preternatural energy. A chicken in an elegant gown almost glows with nearly god-like power. She weighs about 5 pounds. You cannot see what a chicken in an elegant gown is holding. It has the following aliases: chicken, bird.
I can't help but wonder...
... if you kill it, will it split into many chickens that will assault you and chase you like a chicken tornado, a la Zelda?
Eight gigantic, globular eyes adorn the cephalothorax of the Wyrden spider in a beautiful, symmetrical pattern. Some bigger, some smaller, though easily as large as a person each, the eyes are made out of fat drops of a shiny, violet sap that flows and congeals of its own accord, giving the impression that the eyes move and fixate and occasionally change abruptly in size or shape. Many dark branches protrude from the spider's head around the eyes, coated in the same sticky, slick sap, giving a furred appearance. Two enormous pedipalps, made entirely of darkened bone woven together with vines, wiggle back and forth, grasping anything that comes close not only with their amalgamated shapes, but also bony arms that protrude from the masses, each sprouting with hundreds of tiny violet flowers, crawling with spiderlings. The spider hisses and buzzes through the thousands of insects surround it, and the insects fill the surrounding air with a humming drone that quickens the blood and darkens the senses.
An enormous spider's head of wyrden flora has an air of extreme strength.
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and impenetrable fog!
She is a crystalline prismatic lucidian and stands almost seven feet tall, a towering form of crystal. Though her body is perfectly clear, a near-permanent haze of ruby red can be seen billowing beneath her crystalline skin in tumbling clouds. She wears pale blue robes of embroidered silk beneath her black leather armour - the hide shows the weathering of many battles, and has clearly been hastily repaired in places. Her hands are clutched around a crackling Aeromantic staff that sparks with flashes of lightning as she moves, illuminating her hard-edged face and the tumbles of needle-thin crystal that frame it.
Sentinels:
She is a feathered storm trill with burnished brown plumage that disappears beneath the ornate metal helm shielding her face. Between the lines of her helm can be seen stern dark green eyes and thin, narrowed lips. Matching armour covers her entire body, both exquisitely crafted and incredibly worn; the evidence of recent battle plain in its scratches and bloody stains. Her battle-ready appearance is heightened by the number of weapons strapped to her body; rapiers hang at either side of her hips, whilst a huge maul is strapped to her back - each as well crafted as her armour.
Institute:
He is a feathered cloud trill surrounded by a selection of spinning gems, each glowing with the resonant power of the Cosmic plane. Their light spills prismatic hues across his white lab coat, which though once pristine is now marred by blood and the detritus of revolution. His pale plumage has similarly suffered his headfeathers are especially matted and askew, with splatters of blood running through them. His right hand bears a vibrating temporal resonator, a glowing ruby protruding from the back of the glove-like implement.
Symphonium feathered lucidian freakazoid:
He is a crystalline crystalsinger lucidian and holds himself with an air of poise and refinement. Dark grey feathers that fade to black in places cover his entire body, coiffed into a sweeping crest at his head and carefully preened everywhere else. He holds a finely crafted mandolin made of pale silvery wood, the body of the instrument adorned with embedded gems of every colour. Thick robes crafted from cloth reinforced with metal thread envelop his form - clearly cut for combat, they nonetheless exude elegance and style. His eyes are pale like quartz and stand out from his narrow face due to their piercingly cold stare.
Eight gigantic, globular eyes adorn the cephalothorax of the Wyrden spider in a beautiful, symmetrical pattern. Some bigger, some smaller, though easily as large as a person each, the eyes are made out of fat drops of a shiny, violet sap that flows and congeals of its own accord, giving the impression that the eyes move and fixate and occasionally change abruptly in size or shape. Many dark branches protrude from the spider's head around the eyes, coated in the same sticky, slick sap, giving a furred appearance. Two enormous pedipalps, made entirely of darkened bone woven together with vines, wiggle back and forth, grasping anything that comes close not only with their amalgamated shapes, but also bony arms that protrude from the masses, each sprouting with hundreds of tiny violet flowers, crawling with spiderlings. The spider hisses and buzzes through the thousands of insects surround it, and the insects fill the surrounding air with a humming drone that quickens the blood and darkens the senses.
An enormous spider's head of wyrden flora has an air of extreme strength.
There are eight of these legs (that I've found so far) :
Rising into the sky, a segmented spider's leg made of wyrden matter pierces the ground here, oozing sticky sap into the ground.
a gargantuan segmented spider's leg
Speared into the ground here is long, segmented spider's leg, taller than the
canopy and thicker than a pillar. It is an amalgamation of hundreds to thousands
of leaves, insects, twigs and stones, rich Wyrden soil, even small creatures,
their bones blackened and desiccated. Tiny spiderlings crawl over everything,
oozing dark, violet secretions to bind the leg together into a shiny, hard-
shelled shape, accented with sharp spikes formed from dark bones. Twined in
spirals about the leg are many thorned, dark vines, which have been bound by sap
into the Wyrden shell. Hundreds of wasps drone about the leg, providing a
symphony of buzzing with every movement.
It weighs 2 ounce(s).
It has the following aliases: leg, insect.
This was the "body" of the greev:
a mound of writhing vines
Expansive and crawling with insects, a mound of writhing vines grows here, its surface loamy and flexible.
As if attached to the larger half of an enormous wyrden insect, this mound of
earth stretches outward with eight appendages, all segmented and covered in
writhing vines. The expanse of this hovel is permeated with all manner of
twisting insects, from worms to fleshy tubers, spiders and crawling maggots, and
the bulk of its design is rotting foliage.
A mound of writhing vines looks weak and feeble.
He weighs about 312 pounds.
You cannot see what a mound of writhing vines is holding.
It has the following aliases: mound.
Tonight amidst the mountaintops And endless starless night Singing how the wind was lost Before an earthly flight
To finish the collection, the chimeric nehvgree that the greev kept summoning:
Towering above the tallest of mortals, the nehvgree is a chimeric arachnid amalgam of untold leaves, flowers, insects, twigs, stones, rich Wyrden soil, and even animals: their bones blackened and desicated. Great mandibles of broken branches, jagged bones and pernicious thorns dwarf its head, which itself is attached to a bloated abdomen that ever bubbles and bleeds with corrosive sap, perpetually dripping down its faculties to the ground below. Piercing the thick shell of twisted webbing and bound shadow, the stingers of insects unknown cover the creature like a blanket of wicked spines. Meanwhile, what appear to be bulbous growths along its entire body are revealed to be thousands upon thousands of eyes glaring out furiously at its surroundings. There exists no discernable pattern in their locations for indeed the eyes are found haphazardly: upon its head, underneath its sternum, in clusters all over its abdomen, in the joints of the great segmented legs that support it, at the base of countless spinnerets and even along the sides of its great mandibles. Eternally alert and searching, they deny the nehvgree's prey of escaping its notice.
A chimeric nehvgree has an air of extreme strength.
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and impenetrable fog!
By request, fiery archangels who attacked Magnagora at Methrenton's behest:
a burning archangel Wreathed in red flames, an archangel hovers here, eyes wild with menace. Grandest among the angelic hosts are the archangels of Celestia, and one stands here on a cloud of celestial light. She is tall and statuesque, her enormous wings tall behind her back, though she soars in the air without moving them. Wearing a golden breastplate over a white robe that ripples with divine power, she is wreathed in holy fire that flickers around her expectantly. She is surrounded by red flames, and her eyes are filled with a wild menace.
a burning archangel commander
Wreathed in scarlet flames, an archangel commander hovers here, eyes burning crimson.
[same except the last line] She is surrounded by scarlet flames, and her eyes are filled with the crimson burning stare of a commander of hosts.
An abominable fusion of reptile and human, the three-faced gorgon hovers in the air thanks to tessellated wings that look like bone but are in fact solid quicksilver. Her serpentine lower half slinks in coiled curves of dark green-black scales, muscled and strong enough to break backs if it managed to wrap around a body. The gorgon's upper-half is vaguely humanoid, her skin textured with dark scales that ripple to the clawed tips of her hands. Each of her three faces is beautiful to a point, their mouths opening wide to reveal bronze fanged teeth and boar-like tusks that curl wickedly. The crowning glory of this dark monstrosity is the writhing, hissing mass of snakes she has for hair that drip poison from their mouths whilst snapping at any one who dares come close. Though she possesses golden eyes, her gaze remains downcast.
The cool night-time breeze shivers in the arid caress of the streets of the capital city, brushing the earthen taste of dust across your lips.
*
A blessed silence falls upon the city for the moment, most activity confined to the towers and the theatre due to the snowy weather.
*
Pinprick points of light twinkle in the deep black overhead, their brightness full of a cold, hungering malice.
Comments
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
A menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail.
Skipping jauntily, a menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail stalks here.
This menacing maned lion is a lazy creature with a sleek, golden pelt and a blonde swishing tail. Deep orange eyes stare out from the dark triangles set within its long, flat face. Skipping jauntily, the lion stands proudly, even with the thick leather reins securely fastened to its head. A regal saddle decorated with jungle motifs has been fitted securely between the lion's strong shoulders and backside. He is called 'Mufasa.'
A menacing maned lion with a blonde swishing tail seems to be unafraid.
[spoiler]She is a fiendish viscanti demigoddess and her eyebrows are the same snowy white as her hair, ragged around their edges and arched in a naturally elegant curve. Pale lips, unpainted, remain pressed together in a thin line more often than not, revealing jagged fangs when they do part. All traces of makeup on her face have been carefully wiped clean, no colour apparent anywhere on her cold, pale skin. Her almond shaped eyes display no emotion, the right iris staring forward with a perfectly reflective grey sheen, mirroring back all that it sees. Her left eye shares the colouration, though some of the six smaller irises surrounding the larger, center one are varying degrees of monochrominity from white to black. Short hair has been lovingly wound into a Delportian braid that circles her head like an ivory halo halo, strands that are elegant, yet uneven, hanging straight and glossy behind her ears. Porcelain, doll-like skin covers her body, the only obvious fault an angry, pulsing mark nestled in the hollow of her throat. Taint pours from this mark like an open wound, seeping around her and coalescing in an angry, vicious maelstrom of blackened purple fog. Her every movement is directed by the fog, skeletal claws forming and dissipating to grasp at her limbs, and manouevre them to place with deft skill. While it seems there is no end to the number that pop out at a given time, two remain ever present, rising from the darkness that makes up her shadow to hang over her shoulders at the ready. Occasionally a fiendish whisper will echo through the fog, repeating a name before dying out. Trace amounts of muscle decorate her limbs, though it is obvious there was once more, and she appears waifish for a woman of nine and a half feet of height. A heavy, fur-lined cloak has been hung about her shoulders and secured with a delicately bowed knot carefully, a loving symbol of care. She is wearing a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, a webbed wedding band of platinum, an iridescent white fractal flower brooch, metallic slippers of smoke-grey silver, a smoke-scented gown of burning empires and a svelte, lupine cloak of coppery brown furs.[/spoiler]
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
This winding path curls past the bulk of the temple towards a wilder, less manicured forest. Here, the stone beds bear wyrden flora growing in and through the skulls of various beasts: thorns curl around the antlers of a hapless stag, while roses bloom in the eye sockets of a dragon. One beast is unrecognizable, its bones bearing inclusions of strange alien gems: through this, a savage, well-used spear has been plunged. Along the length of the weapon's haft, the leather dressings bear the crude symbols of Shikari, the Predator.
Skylights have been torn open here, leaving gaping wounds in the once-grand arch of the ceiling. Brambles filled with fleshy ebon roses spill in through these, hanging in loose cascades scant handspans above the ground. The smell here is of the rich wet earth, the rotting of flowers, and a moist foulness like something rancid and spoilt.
Ruins ring this courtyard, choked beneath the weight of the Wyrden Forest that allows them further survival. At the centre of the broken pavement, a pool, perfectly round, bears a still, ebon fluid. Perfect and undisturbed, the basin's only impingement upon the environment is a distortion of the air above, a shifting of subtle shadow and web-like outlines that fade as the eye regards them.
https://estelss16.deviantart.com/, visit if interested.
All of her weapons are a ridiculous size, too. Here's her greatsword.
a greatsword with an extended blade the colour of wine
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
+ Hunters of Shorn Corona
+ a Dawnburst Druid
+ Knight of Glorious Dawn
+ Queen Maeve when she was the Solar Queen
+ The little fae girl as the Once and Future Queen
+ The Lord Mahaadi
My logs of that whole event are gone ;-;
Gleaming with unusual brilliance, silken tresses fall from a regally poised head
Slender in figure but fearsome in presence, the Hunter of the Shorn Corona moves
[spoiler]
Faeling: She is a nimble faeling fiery demigoddess changeling and is a veritable giant for normal faeling, standing at five feet tall, five and a half if you count her wings. Her face is pointy and has a harsh beauty to it, beginning at the large, almond-shaped eyes that are capped by elegantly arched ebon eyebrows and dusted by a light layer of grey kohl. Completely colourless, her right eye holds a perfect, watery translucence, and all seven of the irises of her left eye share its colouration in their asterisk-shaped formation. A soft, almost mocking smile graces her thin lips, which are painted a deep indigo, flashes of pearly white teeth revealing that the majority of her teeth are pointed into grisly fangs when they part. Sparkling across the bridge of her nose are a smattering of freckles that may very well be glitter, as they do not mar her alabaster flesh and sparkle enticingly. Her long limbs and swannish curve of her neck adds a second sense of frailty to her appearance beyond her height, her limbs twig-thin and possibly too elongated. Trailing behind her when she walks is a long train of furs, the cloak safeguarding her fair skin from the harsh light of the sun or the brisk bite of a chill wind, firmly and snuggly tied in a neat bow at the hollow of her throat. Where one would expect slits to need to be cut for her wings, it appears for all intents and purposes that they are made entirely of blistering waves of heat that blossom from where her shoulder blades should be from a deep blue to a light orange, the same asterisk-image of her eyes embedded in white-hot flames in place of any natural pattern of veins. She is wearing a suit of black, chitinous lamellar plate, a svelte lupine cloak of coppery brown furs, a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, and the Pendant of the Obsidian Flame.
Viscanti: She is a fiendish viscanti fiery demigoddess changeing and ebon-black eyebrows arch elegantly over almond-shaped eyes dusted with a light layer of grey kohl. Completely colourless, the right eye holds a perfect, watery translucence, and all seven of the irises of her left share its colouration in their asterisk-shaped formation. A soft smile graces her full lips, which are painted a deep wine, flashes of pearly white teeth revealing fanged canines and bicuspids when the carmine flesh is parted. Her make-up is nearly nonexistant otherwise, only flaint traces of glittering blush adorning her cheeks and stretching across the bridge of her nose. From her long limbs to the swannish curve of her neck, porcelain, doll-like skin covers her body, sparkling and enticingly perfect as if gems were embedded beneath the skin. Safeguarding her fair skin from the harsh light of the sun or the brisk bite of a chill wind, the cascade of fur that is her cloak is tied snuggly in a neat bow at the hollow of her throat. She stands at an intimidating nine feet and five inches of height, her muscle toned, and moves with an elegance and grace that bespeaks her noble heritage. She is wearing a suit of black, chitinous lamellar plate, a svelte lupine cloak of coppery brown furs, a white gold tiara with lapis and pearl, and the Pendant of the Obsidian Flame.
[/spoiler]
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
The chicken is snow white with jet black wings, standing proudly at one foot tall. Fitted expertly over her avian form is a velvet gown of deep blue-black, draped in elegant folds that puddle on the floor. A necklace of perfect sapphires glitter around her neck and a small platinum circlet with an exquisite diamond rests on her head. A golden eye mask inset with gems is balanced on her beak out of which burn her eyes of blue fire. She struts around with a superior attitude, obviously not your average chicken, surrounded by a nimbus of preternatural energy.
A chicken in an elegant gown almost glows with nearly god-like power.
She weighs about 5 pounds.
You cannot see what a chicken in an elegant gown is holding.
It has the following aliases: chicken, bird.
... if you kill it, will it split into many chickens that will assault you and chase you like a chicken tornado, a la Zelda?
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Eight gigantic, globular eyes adorn the cephalothorax of the Wyrden spider in a beautiful, symmetrical pattern. Some bigger, some smaller, though easily as large as a person each, the eyes are made out of fat drops of a shiny, violet sap that flows and congeals of its own accord, giving the impression that the eyes move and fixate and occasionally change abruptly in size or shape. Many dark branches protrude from the spider's head around the eyes, coated in the same sticky, slick sap, giving a furred appearance. Two enormous pedipalps, made entirely of darkened bone woven together with vines, wiggle back and forth, grasping anything that comes close not only with their amalgamated shapes, but also bony arms that protrude from the masses, each sprouting with hundreds of tiny violet flowers, crawling with spiderlings. The spider hisses and buzzes through the thousands of insects surround it, and the insects fill the surrounding air with a humming drone that quickens the blood and darkens the senses.
An enormous spider's head of wyrden flora has an air of extreme strength.
Tonight amidst the mountaintops
And endless starless night
Singing how the wind was lost
Before an earthly flight
a gargantuan segmented spider's leg
This was the "body" of the greev:
a mound of writhing vines
loamy and flexible.
Tonight amidst the mountaintops
And endless starless night
Singing how the wind was lost
Before an earthly flight
Towering above the tallest of mortals, the nehvgree is a chimeric arachnid amalgam of untold leaves, flowers, insects, twigs, stones, rich Wyrden soil, and even animals: their bones blackened and desicated. Great mandibles of broken branches, jagged bones and pernicious thorns dwarf its head, which itself is attached to a bloated abdomen that ever bubbles and bleeds with corrosive sap, perpetually dripping down its faculties to the ground below. Piercing the thick shell of twisted webbing and bound shadow, the stingers of insects unknown cover the creature like a blanket of wicked spines. Meanwhile, what appear to be bulbous growths along its entire body are revealed to be thousands upon thousands of eyes glaring out furiously at its surroundings. There exists no discernable pattern in their locations for indeed the eyes are found haphazardly: upon its head, underneath its sternum, in clusters all over its abdomen, in the joints of the great segmented legs that support it, at the base of countless spinnerets and even along the sides of its great mandibles. Eternally alert and searching, they deny the nehvgree's prey of escaping its notice.
A chimeric nehvgree has an air of extreme strength.
a burning archangel
Wreathed in red flames, an archangel hovers here, eyes wild with menace.
Grandest among the angelic hosts are the archangels of Celestia, and one stands here on a cloud of celestial light. She is tall and statuesque, her enormous wings tall behind her back, though she soars in the air without moving them. Wearing a golden breastplate over a white robe that ripples with divine power, she is wreathed in holy fire that flickers around her expectantly. She is surrounded by red flames, and her eyes are filled with a wild menace.
a burning archangel commander
a three-faced gorgon
An abominable fusion of reptile and human, the three-faced gorgon hovers in the air thanks to
tessellated wings that look like bone but are in fact solid quicksilver. Her serpentine lower half
slinks in coiled curves of dark green-black scales, muscled and strong enough to break backs if it
managed to wrap around a body. The gorgon's upper-half is vaguely humanoid, her skin textured with
dark scales that ripple to the clawed tips of her hands. Each of her three faces is beautiful to a
point, their mouths opening wide to reveal bronze fanged teeth and boar-like tusks that curl
wickedly. The crowning glory of this dark monstrosity is the writhing, hissing mass of snakes she
has for hair that drip poison from their mouths whilst snapping at any one who dares come close.
Though she possesses golden eyes, her gaze remains downcast.
theatre due to the snowy weather.
hungering malice.