[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

General Info

Chrysaora Basilisk are the prevalent equine creatures that inhabit the world Lucent. They roam by the hundreds, using their unique hooves to score the uneven rock and track down their most vital source of nourishment; evil. The relationship between Chrysaora and humans is a complex one. Chrysaora vocalize like horses, but are also thought to have a syrinx much like birds do and have been recorded displaying a variety of sharp, avian sounds. Their eyes layer over with a dark, murky black until their normal eye color pierces through in a great ball of electric light, radiating toward their victim's open eyes and paralyzing them. The Glare is able to stop both human and creature, and after a few days, unique to other forms of basilisk, the paralyzed being transforms into a sea nettle.

This one is a Halloween themed! Tell me what his/her special markings are and how he/she got them using art or a story.

Owner: Allyssia_banter
Name: Wanderer
Gender: Stallion
Link to form: here
Coat Color: Smokey Black Roan Rabicano

Code: Select all

[b]Owner:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Markings:[/b]
[b]Story/Art:[/b]


[ilhdc7]

Owner: ilhdc7
Name: Bermuda
Gender: Stallion
Markings: Well, I would say that his facial marking is like a Snip/Lip marking combined. And Well, I would say bubbled white ankle socks. (I made that up! XD)
Story/Art:

Bermuda was walking down to a small path. His all brown coat blended in with the dying undergrowth. His neck was arched, and he delicately sniffed a newly grown flower, green, and alien-like in the dead forest. Bermuda sniffed at it, then carefully opened his mouth, enclosing it inside his jaw. He snapped his jaw shut, breaking the stem, and removing the green from the earth. Bermuda wandered through his surrounding area, and eventually walked far enough that he needed a drink, and drink from the elixir pool he had found thousands of years ago. On this day, a Halloween night, was the night he must drink or sacrifice dying from old age.

He stepped forth, and followed his well worn trail, and through a wall of vines. He gazed lovingly at his precious baby. It shimmered white, and lit up the cavern they were in. Bermuda stepped into the pool, and immediately knew something wasn't right. Somebody else had drank out of his precious palace pool. He must be the only one to drink out of it. The pool made you selfish, because only you must drink out of it. It had a different taste and feel every time a new creature drank out of it. He closed his eyes, as if to get a better image to what had happened, then Bermuda realized. It was burning his skin, as if bleaching it with fire. He splashed the pool with his hoof, confused, and it sprayed his nose, bleaching and burning it too. He ran out of the pool, and away, away from his old life.

He crawled to a sheltered cave, and closed his eyes, hoping for death to come. His face and legs burned so much, that Bermuda was wishing for death. He Sang:

Death Come Swift,
Thy Reaper come Fast,
May I go Adrift
Into the Unknown.
Hope it all ends
With suffering no more.
Thy sins be Amended.

But the reaper didn't come, and Bermuda had to deal with the pain. Lights flashed across his closed eyes, and he blacked out.

=======

Bermuda woke up, and felt a new air about him. He stood up, and walked out of his cave. Light blinded his eyes, and he looked out. The world was green and fresh and newly born. He looked up and down, soon noticing some white on his legs. It was the white of purity. He closed his eyes, and slowly walked to the pool. He needed to face his former friend turned enemy. As he started to walk through the vines, his nose bumped on something. He whinnied, and shied away, ears back. Again he tried, yet it was as if it was blocked off.

Something had given him a second chance to live a normal life, and be free of the clutches of this demon. Bermuda trotted away from the forest, and never returned. He soon found peace, and spends most of his time alone, but free.

[That Weird Dragon]

Owner: Allyssia_banter
Name: Wanderer
Gender: Stallion
Markings: Blaze-snip, four sock (grabbed hand markings)
Story/Art:

The night was dark and stormy, the wind rustled through the leaves and whistled through the grass. Rain pelted down like shot berry seeds, stinging the skin of anyone who dare to wander out into its dangerous oblivion. High pitched whinnies and squeals awoke the young girl, who shifted in her bed, trying to get back to sleep, at age eight, it was hard for her. Ella Louise Thompson whined and rubbed her eyes before reaching over and turning on her bedside light. Stretching up and yawning, she flipped back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She slipped her feet into her bed shoes and pulled on her bathrobe.

Outside it was cold, but the whinnying was louder, screams could be heard as if someone was being attacked. Yet Ella trudged out into the darkness.

Each drop stung his coat, every single step ached, and he was bruised from the rain. He neared the cavern and soon entered an over hang. The blackness down further in made him uneasy. The horrifying screams gave him a chill, unusual for a Basilisk, but then, Wanderer was never a normal basilisk. Scorned for his kindness to weaker beings and never using the technique of their species, he was exiled as a disgrace.

The shadows in the cavern were not happy with the Basilisk, due to his species' old habits. They reached out, grasping his fetlocks with pastel transparent hands. The cold of their touch singed the fur and bleaching it pure white. He was dragged mercilessly into the depths. Cobwebs marred his pelt as they stuck to his coal black fur, the fear was present in his black eyes.

The cavern was not too far from her house, she walked in, unafraid and fearless. The massive basilisk stallion was laying unconscious by the time she found him. The fear was too much and he obviously fainted, Ella watched him for a while and started to grow tired, eventually falling asleep by the magnificent stallion.

Years later, Wanderer had created a bond to the girl, now 14 years old. The marks on his legs remained and the cobwebs had blended onto his fur, creating the pale colour of frost over his pelt

[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

Bump!

[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

Owner: Allyssia_banter
Name: Wanderer
Gender: Stallion
Markings: Blaze-snip, four sock (grabbed hand markings)
Story/Art:

The night was dark and stormy, the wind rustled through the leaves and whistled through the grass. Rain pelted down like shot berry seeds, stinging the skin of anyone who dare to wander out into its dangerous oblivion. High pitched whinnies and squeals awoke the young girl, who shifted in her bed, trying to get back to sleep, at age eight, it was hard for her. Ella Louise Thompson whined and rubbed her eyes before reaching over and turning on her bedside light. Stretching up and yawning, she flipped back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She slipped her feet into her bed shoes and pulled on her bathrobe.

Outside it was cold, but the whinnying was louder, screams could be heard as if someone was being attacked. Yet Ella trudged out into the darkness.

Each drop stung his coat, every single step ached, and he was bruised from the rain. He neared the cavern and soon entered an over hang. The blackness down further in made him uneasy. The horrifying screams gave him a chill, unusual for a Basilisk, but then, Wanderer was never a normal basilisk. Scorned for his kindness to weaker beings and never using the technique of their species, he was exiled as a disgrace.

The shadows in the cavern were not happy with the Basilisk, due to his species' old habits. They reached out, grasping his fetlocks with pastel transparent hands. The cold of their touch singed the fur and bleaching it pure white. He was dragged mercilessly into the depths. Cobwebs marred his pelt as they stuck to his coal black fur, the fear was present in his black eyes.

The cavern was not too far from her house, she walked in, unafraid and fearless. The massive basilisk stallion was laying unconscious by the time she found him. The fear was too much and he obviously fainted, Ella watched him for a while and started to grow tired, eventually falling asleep by the magnificent stallion.

Years later, Wanderer had created a bond to the girl, now 14 years old. The marks on his legs remained and the cobwebs had blended onto his fur, creating the pale colour of frost over his pelt

Congratulations!

[That Weird Dragon]

*SQUEALS* yay!!! Thank you!!!!!!!