"(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby
There's nowhere to go, not in the air, or on the ground below, and while her shadows could take her somewhere safe, doing so would mean being unable to protect her home, no matter how small or how insignificant her part might be. And if she leaves, he will see again and become even more dangerous than he is now. Her claws dig tightly into the membraneous skin of his wing, but every thrust threatens to throw her tumbling into the thin, cold air. Her vision swims, and Leilan's voice reaches her as though through water, her presence giving his attack pause. Not so for the snow-white dragon barreling towards the black beast she rides so inexpertly. She has mere moments to see what is happening, to grab at the bone of the beast's wing with her teeth as he dodges blindly, reacting to a crackling lightning whose source she cannot find through the smoke and the panic and the haze of oxygen deprivation. Tooth and claw alone keeps her clinging to him, keeps her on his back when he is yanked down by the tail and they free fall. It's sickening, maddening, and the taste of his blood on her tongue is hot and sulfurous, like the acrid smoke that makes her eyes stream.
They jerk free of the first attack in a wave of flashing lightning that arcs past them, but Leilan is still hovering nearby, and he will not hold off forever, not for lightning and not even for her, but the fiery landscape runs underneath them so fast that it is nothing but a blur of black and grey and raging orange, and she cannot jump free safely. Behind them, a wave of destruction blooms on the beach that, not so long ago, she had sat and considered other lands, other worlds. The sand itself melts beneath the heat of it, red-hot as magma, smoking and cracking and splintering with a sound like trees exploding in winter when the icy waters of the ash-thick sea roll up against it. He banks and she flinches, turning away from the molten beach, preparing for a new rise into the air, but instead the great beast lands heavily on a rocky outcropping and, unprepared for the sudden full stop, she is thrown clear of him. The impact of the ground brings a flash of light behind her eyelids, then nothing. She lands limply and is still but for the subtle rise and fall of her chest to say she still breathes.
Litotes x Mehendi
ooc - melting sand turns to glass because why not? Beryl is now unconscious, so Castile should be able to see again unless he prefers being blind lol Leilan
The horned stallion had done his part in getting those he could to the shore away (hopefully) from the core of the fires and the fighting. Ardashir took a quick glance around him noting the coats of others present. He could not perform a role call for those missing as he had lost quite a bit of time knowing who lived on the isle and who was merely a visitor. A pink spotted mare called out to those gathered offering them a “bridge” to move across rather than having to swim for it. He stays on the coast line making sure that those wanting to flee have their chance and are unimpeded by the violence around them.
The large white stallion with his mix of opal color took note of the black mare as she stood in the water watching. He could understand not wanting to leave your home and also the feeling of loss? Rage? That could (possibly) be sturing in her young heart. He turned his own noble head back to those that were left fighting. His eyes narrowed slightly and ears turned back. Ardashir did not have wings to carry him into a fight above. He would not leave the isle though. The smell of sulfur, the warmth produced from new flames, a roar either in pain or in defiance. He listened to it all.
The stag took a few steps backwards into the waves letting the water move around his legs. Ardashir would defend the shoreline.
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside could have so many ragged holes inside
The Burning of Icicle Isle, they’ll call it. It will need a new name. Burned Islay. Broken Isle. Isle of Ashes.
He snickers a bit because that sounds like a Pile of Ashes and it currently is.
Everyone gets involved, even if some of them should not. Beryl bites into a wing just as the cream-white dragon comes for the two of them, causing probably minor pain to the enraged, large dragon she is riding; a strange lightning bird flies around them and attacks seemingly randomly - lightning cracks just past Castile, and curves around Leilan as well as if it doesn’t currently want to hit him; it seems instead Ruinam is the target.
Beryl doesn’t jump the shadows and Ruinam almost misses his target, and a new lightning bolt strikes the ice dragon mid-flight. Something strange happens - his skin, protected by a layer of scales and of ice, tingles in a kind of upward motion instead of downwards. He would never know the physics of it, but ice does not conduct electrons, but protons - positive charge runs upwards to compensate for the hit of electrons upon his backside. He shakes himself mid-flight, trying to shake the feeling, coming close to Popinjay-the-bird (not that he recognizes her, he’s never really entered Taiga for silly reasons). The air crackles this time without her intervention, as the large ice dragon discharges positively - upwards towards the bird. The laws of nature are all about balance, just as the faeries told the icy male when they granted him to learn about this, and subsequently granted him this shifting ability. Just in time, of course, to balance against the fire dragon raging the Isle.
He follows Castile, Ruinam and Beryl. It’s not much, but the ice dragon doesn’t want to attack his daughter, and frankly after his earlier hesitation he doesn’t get many opportunities for it anyway - besides he’d better get away from the lightning bird before she strikes again.
Perhaps the pain awakens the raging dragon, or the man beneath him. Because while the blood trail is easy to follow, the burning seems less intense, and his own icy breath puts out a few of the fires where their extreme temperatures meet. Beryl drops away from the dragon, motionless, but Leilan doesn’t have time to check on her. The surface is something he cannot currently pay attention to, not with a terrorizing threat in the sky; he hopes that some of the residents will find her, but other than send a few ice flakes her way, he cannot help her in the speed of he chase.
A granite overhang is where the male lands, and the ice dragon stills right before his former friend. His wings carry him as he flaps them up and down slowly, to stay at eye level like a preying bird would. There’s something a little different now about Castile, and so he doesn’t attack - he will not attack first, but that doesn’t mean he is not steeled against a possible outburst, the ice still available in the brown-and-silver dragon’s throat.
His wings slowly beat away the mist and larger parts of the fire get directed towards already-burned and ice-covered areas, where they don’t do any additional harm.
And he waits - calm and sharp as ice.
*I did the reverse/positive-discharge thing toward poppy, sorry not sorry
*puts out so more fires and approaches Castile cautiously when he lands to give him ‘da look’ of disappointment’ (but that probably fails in dragon form)
Thick smoke fills the white dragon's lungs as he falls from the sky, his wings folded against his snow-white body.
though as he falls a flash of sheer white light blinds him, a growl escaping his lungs as he opens his jaws, trying to latch onto anything he can in his rapid descent, oblivious to the lightning bird.
When he comes into contact with Castile's tail, he clenches onto it tightly, both of them suddenly falling toward the ground
A fleeting moment of regret stains his expression as he crashes into the burning island, his wings attempting to encase his body in a shell as he slides across the ash-covered island.
He lets out a deep growl as soon as his body comes to a halt, his wings returning to his sides as he takes a look around, spotting Castile and Leilan nearby.
Quickly, his wings rise again, unfolding as he catches a short burst of wind that rushes from behind him. The white dragon glides slowly now, noticing that perhaps Castile had regained some composure.
He lands not too far away from everyone else, his claws softly touching down onto the mix of ash and mush that was once snow.
The male sits quietly though, he doesn't know Castile as well as the others might know him, in fact, most of his encounters with the dragon had been rather rough.
Hi this sucks but I didn't wanna keep anyone waiting any longer
03-26-2020, 07:11 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2020, 10:29 AM by Dracarys.)
I have never been nothing. I am the blood of a dragon.
Despite the bitter cold that first filled her bones when she came here, she did not mind it now. There was something comforting in the way it filled her, bringing her closer to the edge of knowing she was alive. With every breath it filled her lungs with what should have been a sharp burning sensation, but it only soothed her ever-chilling throat that held her icy breath.
The quietness of the frozen island brought a sense of serenity. It comforted her in a familiar way, a childhood memory. The once autumn forest she had only ever known, comes to her mind, before calling the hilly terrain of Loess home.
With the quietness and bitter cold, it collided together, clouding her mind with thoughts that should not happen. Dracarys shakes her head, tossing away all thoughts, and stares up into the open chilly night that looms above her. A thousand, no, a million, bright lights twinkle faintly in the distance. Her gaze stare blankly at the night sky as her thoughts drift off to simpler things.
In the distance, a deafening roar fills the peaceful land though. Her ears slam against her skull at its thunderous roar. Dracarys quickly looks in the direction it’s coming from, watching as the night sky is lit up even more with colors she recognizes. She inhales the air, quickly recognizing the mixed scent of Loess and dragon.
Grandfather? She thinks.
The smell of fire and ice mixing together fills her nostrils even further. Dracarys unfolds her dragon wings, jumping up into the air to investigate. Reaching elevation quickly, Dracarys continues to climb higher and higher. Her silver eyes watch the horizon, watching as the destruction and chaos unfold before her in the distance.
She watches as dragons fight each other, lightening and thunder roaring around them, animals and residents fleeing to the shoreline to escape the madness, and some staying to protect the home they love. For a moment, Dracarys wonders if this was like the war her parents had told her about as a foal. The madness of dragons, their destruction and chaos, from the hands of yet Loess again.
Is that all we are capable of? Dracarys begins to feel shameful. Shame for her family, for calling Loess her home, and being proud to be a dragon. If this to be part of her future, then would she become something like her grandfather? Destroying homes and tearing families apart?
Dracarys doesn’t know. She shakes her head, turning around, and leaves the destruction behind. Her only hope for knowing any of this was back home. Perhaps Lepis would have her answers.
Disclaimer: All images used in this site are copyrighted to their original owner. No copyright infringement is intended. If you are the copyrighted owner of any material on this site and wish for it to be removed, please let us know.