Total - 03
Black Hole - 00
Supernova - 01
Pulsar - 01
Radiant - 00
Collapse - 01
Fade - 00
Cool - 00
Black Hole - 00
Supernova - 01
Pulsar - 01
Radiant - 00
Collapse - 01
Fade - 00
Cool - 00
Supernova
Dead Astronaut Supernova Sohla
In many ways, this Supernova resembles a typical Phoenix. A creature of pure void-fire, black flames flicker like the depths of space, occasionally streaked by hints of deep blue and licorice green gases floating through the self-contained universe. Beneath the flame, if you are every gifted such a rare sight, the phoenix's feathers are a lightless black, almost indiscernible from each other if not for the faintest sheen when it moves. It's obvious this is not your normal Phoenix, however, as it's beak and talons are ivory bone, faintly fractured as if its been adrift in the crushing pressure of space for ages unknown. Cracked ribs encircle its chest, flames sometimes licking out from the skeletal cage, and should its fire ever go out the bones will remain, falling into a pile of ash and dust only for the reborn chick to instantly arise to grow into its body again in eternal imprisonment.
There's something captivating about this eerie, bone-charmed Phoenix, something you can't put your finger on. Despite not speaking a single word, and in fact never making a single sound, this mute loner has a habit of showing up when needed. Not necessarily when wanted, mind you; maybe you wanted to nurse some old grievance in private, or were hoping that at 2.33am nobody would notice you crying from some recent heartache, but there this strange bird will be. Once he's there, though, it's hard to deny that, begrudgingly, just maybe, it's nice to have someone see all your weakness and not give a soft white damn about it. He's there, eternal and distant, his fire-bright eyes seeing right through you without having to say a thing. He knows the loneliness, and he is there in solidarity, but not within reach. Always on the edges, it's impossible to display any affection, as even lifting a single finger towards him whether in kindness or malice sends him scattering to the galaxies far beyond your ken, only to return when he senses his reminder is needed.
The Harvest Festival - Gats and the Admin
In many ways, this Supernova resembles a typical Phoenix. A creature of pure void-fire, black flames flicker like the depths of space, occasionally streaked by hints of deep blue and licorice green gases floating through the self-contained universe. Beneath the flame, if you are every gifted such a rare sight, the phoenix's feathers are a lightless black, almost indiscernible from each other if not for the faintest sheen when it moves. It's obvious this is not your normal Phoenix, however, as it's beak and talons are ivory bone, faintly fractured as if its been adrift in the crushing pressure of space for ages unknown. Cracked ribs encircle its chest, flames sometimes licking out from the skeletal cage, and should its fire ever go out the bones will remain, falling into a pile of ash and dust only for the reborn chick to instantly arise to grow into its body again in eternal imprisonment.
There's something captivating about this eerie, bone-charmed Phoenix, something you can't put your finger on. Despite not speaking a single word, and in fact never making a single sound, this mute loner has a habit of showing up when needed. Not necessarily when wanted, mind you; maybe you wanted to nurse some old grievance in private, or were hoping that at 2.33am nobody would notice you crying from some recent heartache, but there this strange bird will be. Once he's there, though, it's hard to deny that, begrudgingly, just maybe, it's nice to have someone see all your weakness and not give a soft white damn about it. He's there, eternal and distant, his fire-bright eyes seeing right through you without having to say a thing. He knows the loneliness, and he is there in solidarity, but not within reach. Always on the edges, it's impossible to display any affection, as even lifting a single finger towards him whether in kindness or malice sends him scattering to the galaxies far beyond your ken, only to return when he senses his reminder is needed.
The Harvest Festival - Gats and the Admin
Pulsar
Smells Like Supernatural Teen Romance Pulsar Anik
Most days, this Pulsar looks like an absolutely normal Phoenix. Just, well, better. The flames that make up his body are alabaster, unmarred in any way, shape, or form. His precisely curved beak and unbelievably graceful legs and talons are all perfectly white as well. His eyes are a bright and clear amber, large and brooding, often casting longing glances in his bonded’s direction. Though, when he’s hungry, they become as dark and black as the void where his soul is damned. Direct sunlight, however, proves that this Pulsar is no ordinary creature. When the sun’s rays are upon him, his fire glitters as though it was made from thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds. A more magnificent sight to behold, there isn’t. He's the world's perfect predator. Everything about him is made to draw you, his prey, in.
You see, as perfect and as pure as he looks, he’s dangerous. He’s killed before. He’s certain his soul is damned to the deepest, darkest reaches of hell. But, he doesn’t want to be like this. He doesn’t want to be the monster his nature demands. Rather than feeding off of humanoids, he sticks to the blood of the mindless mammals that roam the wilderness beyond the weyrd. It curbs his hunger, but he never truly feels full. And you, dear bonded, you just smell so enticing. No humanoid has ever smelled as delicious as you. He can hardly control himself, but he is absolutely dedicated to keeping you safe. No harm shall ever befall you as long as he’s near. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if it did. He’s so utterly devoted to you; it borders on obsession. You’re his only true weakness and his greatest temptation all rolled up into one.
The Harvest Festival - Gats and the Admin
Most days, this Pulsar looks like an absolutely normal Phoenix. Just, well, better. The flames that make up his body are alabaster, unmarred in any way, shape, or form. His precisely curved beak and unbelievably graceful legs and talons are all perfectly white as well. His eyes are a bright and clear amber, large and brooding, often casting longing glances in his bonded’s direction. Though, when he’s hungry, they become as dark and black as the void where his soul is damned. Direct sunlight, however, proves that this Pulsar is no ordinary creature. When the sun’s rays are upon him, his fire glitters as though it was made from thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds. A more magnificent sight to behold, there isn’t. He's the world's perfect predator. Everything about him is made to draw you, his prey, in.
You see, as perfect and as pure as he looks, he’s dangerous. He’s killed before. He’s certain his soul is damned to the deepest, darkest reaches of hell. But, he doesn’t want to be like this. He doesn’t want to be the monster his nature demands. Rather than feeding off of humanoids, he sticks to the blood of the mindless mammals that roam the wilderness beyond the weyrd. It curbs his hunger, but he never truly feels full. And you, dear bonded, you just smell so enticing. No humanoid has ever smelled as delicious as you. He can hardly control himself, but he is absolutely dedicated to keeping you safe. No harm shall ever befall you as long as he’s near. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if it did. He’s so utterly devoted to you; it borders on obsession. You’re his only true weakness and his greatest temptation all rolled up into one.
The Harvest Festival - Gats and the Admin
Collapse
Lunar Lander Collapse Far
A bit more physically inclined, the Lunar Lander isn't a big fan of worrying about anything but what he's currently focused on. He likes to DO, not think, and is as nimble-minded as he is nimble-footed, nimble-winged, nimble-crested... Too bad you never quite seem to be able to catch him at work. Maybe he's got some Armadigger underlings?
This Phoenix is certainly a looker -- three and a half feet tall, his cranial plume is long and elegant, and his flaming appearance has a wispy, almost curly effect to match the curling arms of dusty lavender galaxies slowly spinning within the fire of space.
Star Command - Art
A bit more physically inclined, the Lunar Lander isn't a big fan of worrying about anything but what he's currently focused on. He likes to DO, not think, and is as nimble-minded as he is nimble-footed, nimble-winged, nimble-crested... Too bad you never quite seem to be able to catch him at work. Maybe he's got some Armadigger underlings?
This Phoenix is certainly a looker -- three and a half feet tall, his cranial plume is long and elegant, and his flaming appearance has a wispy, almost curly effect to match the curling arms of dusty lavender galaxies slowly spinning within the fire of space.
Star Command - Art