Sep 07 2018, 12:33 PM
ooc note: this is a thread between Dragon and Nox, though if others want to jump in feel free!
The alligator had part of a deer in his jaws--the front half, its rubbery skin's bioluminescence flashing dimly and chaotically as the last of its body's chemical signals faded. It had been dead for a few minutes now, and he'd already consumed part of it, but now he was travelling to the offering pile at the shore of the black Heart of Cetus.
Rather than slowly drifting through its dark mirror-surface, however--perhaps sinister, and certainly predatory--he was now espousing a new form of travel.
Ominous red-black wings had sprouted from his shoulders, magically sustaining flight, and a faintly-glowing cloud of similarly-colored magic swarmed around him. Long horns sprouted back from his head, and his eyes near-glowed crimson with malicious glee.
Had he no carcass in his jaws, he'd have bellowed "I AM DRAGON" for all to hear, though he was not, in fact, a dragon of any kind. Actually, the spellwork was weak, and he was barely bobbing in the air, rough and unsteady. At times his body would be flung forward with a surge of magicka--and at others, it would sort of dangle as he struggled to keep himself airborne. Dragon was still getting used to this whole flying thing.
It also wasn't particularly graceful: he was a creature built for floating, and so rather than gliding gracefully--and horizontally--like an animal that had any business in the air would have, Dragon instead hung heavily and limply, thick tail straight down, from where the magic wings held him at his shoulders.
He didn't care.
He was flying.
Cautious, he placed the corpse onto Aquarian's pile--the large mound of half-decayed prey animals untouched for some time now. Then he turned, surveying his little domain from the air.
All is well-... though, what is that? Dragon lowered himself some, flapping unsteadily as he examined a thick trail of ooze, barely-visible in the swamp. He'd never have noticed it where it headed through the reeds, bar the flattening of the marsh grass as the trail moved along. He'd seen this before, but he'd never followed it--too much effort, with his half-ruined hind leg. It always moved off into the swamp and vanished.
Now, though?
Now, he could fly.
With a sense of triumphant mischief, the flying alligator turned, hovering jerkily along the oily path, following it through Cetus.
@Nox
The alligator had part of a deer in his jaws--the front half, its rubbery skin's bioluminescence flashing dimly and chaotically as the last of its body's chemical signals faded. It had been dead for a few minutes now, and he'd already consumed part of it, but now he was travelling to the offering pile at the shore of the black Heart of Cetus.
Rather than slowly drifting through its dark mirror-surface, however--perhaps sinister, and certainly predatory--he was now espousing a new form of travel.
Ominous red-black wings had sprouted from his shoulders, magically sustaining flight, and a faintly-glowing cloud of similarly-colored magic swarmed around him. Long horns sprouted back from his head, and his eyes near-glowed crimson with malicious glee.
Had he no carcass in his jaws, he'd have bellowed "I AM DRAGON" for all to hear, though he was not, in fact, a dragon of any kind. Actually, the spellwork was weak, and he was barely bobbing in the air, rough and unsteady. At times his body would be flung forward with a surge of magicka--and at others, it would sort of dangle as he struggled to keep himself airborne. Dragon was still getting used to this whole flying thing.
It also wasn't particularly graceful: he was a creature built for floating, and so rather than gliding gracefully--and horizontally--like an animal that had any business in the air would have, Dragon instead hung heavily and limply, thick tail straight down, from where the magic wings held him at his shoulders.
He didn't care.
He was flying.
Cautious, he placed the corpse onto Aquarian's pile--the large mound of half-decayed prey animals untouched for some time now. Then he turned, surveying his little domain from the air.
All is well-... though, what is that? Dragon lowered himself some, flapping unsteadily as he examined a thick trail of ooze, barely-visible in the swamp. He'd never have noticed it where it headed through the reeds, bar the flattening of the marsh grass as the trail moved along. He'd seen this before, but he'd never followed it--too much effort, with his half-ruined hind leg. It always moved off into the swamp and vanished.
Now, though?
Now, he could fly.
With a sense of triumphant mischief, the flying alligator turned, hovering jerkily along the oily path, following it through Cetus.
@Nox