So, since EVERY dragon on the site has had their energy bars replenished, both active/inactive/banned lairs. I was discussing with fellow germs about how these "dead" accounts have been 'revived'. And then I had a wonderful idea, so I took a moment to write something brief.
my writing isn't the best thing in the world, but do enjoy ^^
The bright sun rises over the horizon, the faint gobbling of turkeys echo throughout Sornieth. Within forgotten lairs, light touches over the stiff bodies of the numerous dragons that have been in what seems to be an eternal rest. The progens/leaders of the lairs turn up to the sky and coo, "Our Master, they've finally returned! We've been replenished!"
As the days pass by, the dragons, now filled with energy, eagerly take care of the daily tasks they had been assigned so long ago. Gathering, taking care of the brewing at old man Baldwin's. It feels as if time had never passed for them.
However, days later, many dragons re-enter their eternal slumbers, and the last dragon standing is the leader of the clan, their eyes glossy and dull. And with a soft thump, their head rests against the floor of the lair, eyes slowly shutting, yet a gentle smile rests upon their maw.
"We had grown hopeful.. that you had finally returned, Master..
We shall slumber once more, and hope to awaken to your full return.."
So, since EVERY dragon on the site has had their energy bars replenished, both active/inactive/banned lairs. I was discussing with fellow germs about how these "dead" accounts have been 'revived'. And then I had a wonderful idea, so I took a moment to write something brief.
my writing isn't the best thing in the world, but do enjoy ^^
The bright sun rises over the horizon, the faint gobbling of turkeys echo throughout Sornieth. Within forgotten lairs, light touches over the stiff bodies of the numerous dragons that have been in what seems to be an eternal rest. The progens/leaders of the lairs turn up to the sky and coo, "Our Master, they've finally returned! We've been replenished!"
As the days pass by, the dragons, now filled with energy, eagerly take care of the daily tasks they had been assigned so long ago. Gathering, taking care of the brewing at old man Baldwin's. It feels as if time had never passed for them.
However, days later, many dragons re-enter their eternal slumbers, and the last dragon standing is the leader of the clan, their eyes glossy and dull. And with a soft thump, their head rests against the floor of the lair, eyes slowly shutting, yet a gentle smile rests upon their maw.
"We had grown hopeful.. that you had finally returned, Master..
We shall slumber once more, and hope to awaken to your full return.."
NobleRot
They/Them
FR +3
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i think i just died a little ***
i think i just died a little ***
Thanks! I hate it.
In all seriousness though, meta FR writing is the best. I wrote basically the reverse of this situation a while back:
[quote name="starblaziing" date=2017-05-17 23:52:11]
Nestled in the depths of the Sunbeam Ruins, the dragons of clan Illum thrived. Scholars had access to every scroll and artifact they could ever desire; warriors had the fine equipment and skills to slay any foe. You were at the head of it all, guiding the clan under a gentle, yet firm claw. Once a wandering, lost tundra, you had suddenly found a desire to start a clan, and, soon after, met your current mate, a similarly lonely fae. The two of you had hardly stopped to ponder a reason for this; you had simply accepted it as a happy coincidence and moved on.
You and Illum, your dear, dear, clan, had come, so, so far from those early beginnings. Every member could afford all the silks and festival regalia they could ever want. Every member knew their complete story, their [i]lore[/i], and had, at some point or another, commissioned portraits or sculptures of themselves. And those who wished so had beautiful, skin-like designs painted across their scales. All were content.
Then, one day, it all began to fall apart.
At first, it was hardly noticeable. There had not been enough food to go around to the youngest of Illum, and you had chalked it up to a few hunters taking a lazy day off. No issue, but you made a note to reprimand them later. Yet the food stores dwindled and waned, until there was not a leaf remaining in the clan's stores. The clan starved in front of your eyes, yet, try as you might, you could not bring yourself to do anything about it. The driving force, the willpower that had powered your actions was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. One by one, the clan you had worked so hard to build fell into a deep sleep, too drained of energy to do anything but try to conserve it. You were the last to fall prey to the epidemic, a tired lament half-formed in your mind before drifting off.
Months passed.
You woke up to the sight of dozens of dragons around you, seeming to be waking from the same long slumber you had been under. Who were they? Who were... you? Vague recollections and overgrown lairs were the only clues you had to go by, and slowly, the group struggled to put together the pieces of what had once been their clan.
[quote="Illum"]"[i]Hey guys, just came back from a long break on FR. What have I missed?"[/quote]
[/quote]
Thanks! I hate it.
In all seriousness though, meta FR writing is the best. I wrote basically the reverse of this situation a while back:
starblaziing wrote on 2017-05-17:
Nestled in the depths of the Sunbeam Ruins, the dragons of clan Illum thrived. Scholars had access to every scroll and artifact they could ever desire; warriors had the fine equipment and skills to slay any foe. You were at the head of it all, guiding the clan under a gentle, yet firm claw. Once a wandering, lost tundra, you had suddenly found a desire to start a clan, and, soon after, met your current mate, a similarly lonely fae. The two of you had hardly stopped to ponder a reason for this; you had simply accepted it as a happy coincidence and moved on.
You and Illum, your dear, dear, clan, had come, so, so far from those early beginnings. Every member could afford all the silks and festival regalia they could ever want. Every member knew their complete story, their
lore, and had, at some point or another, commissioned portraits or sculptures of themselves. And those who wished so had beautiful, skin-like designs painted across their scales. All were content.
Then, one day, it all began to fall apart.
At first, it was hardly noticeable. There had not been enough food to go around to the youngest of Illum, and you had chalked it up to a few hunters taking a lazy day off. No issue, but you made a note to reprimand them later. Yet the food stores dwindled and waned, until there was not a leaf remaining in the clan's stores. The clan starved in front of your eyes, yet, try as you might, you could not bring yourself to do anything about it. The driving force, the willpower that had powered your actions was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. One by one, the clan you had worked so hard to build fell into a deep sleep, too drained of energy to do anything but try to conserve it. You were the last to fall prey to the epidemic, a tired lament half-formed in your mind before drifting off.
Months passed.
You woke up to the sight of dozens of dragons around you, seeming to be waking from the same long slumber you had been under. Who were they? Who were... you? Vague recollections and overgrown lairs were the only clues you had to go by, and slowly, the group struggled to put together the pieces of what had once been their clan.
Illum wrote:
"Hey guys, just came back from a long break on FR. What have I missed?"
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/BwcFuszR21o1G/giphy.gif[/img]
This is officially a cursed thread because now I'm going to cry over a bunch of pixelated dragons. Thanks a lot. :"D
This is officially a cursed thread because now I'm going to cry over a bunch of pixelated dragons. Thanks a lot. :"D
I'm crying. I have a friend who was banned and now all of her starved dragons are fed again...
This is torture for our poor hopeless pixels in dead/banned lairs.
I'm crying. I have a friend who was banned and now all of her starved dragons are fed again...
This is torture for our poor hopeless pixels in dead/banned lairs.
*crying in corner*
I'm not crying, what are you talking about?
*crying in corner*
I'm not crying, what are you talking about?
I-I I’m not going to cry over pixel dragons. I am not going to cry over pixel dragons..
n-nope I’m going to cry over pixel dragons.
I-I I’m not going to cry over pixel dragons. I am not going to cry over pixel dragons..
n-nope I’m going to cry over pixel dragons.
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> Kneph/Worm
> He/They/It
> +3 FR
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