The Archdevil's Court

The Wild Red Rose Renewed Female Shore Zaithand, Sitka

Speech: Bold #A23BEC

Unpredictable. Spontaneous. Untamable. Those words and a few more work well to describe this Sugilite. Bouncy and energetic, she is always right there when things are happening, wanting to be a part of it all. She’s just as likely to be underfoot when you are cooking in the kitchen as she is to be pushing her head under your arm when you’re working. Always ready to try something new, she is more than happy to drag (or push, or coax, or trick) you into going along with her for whatever crazy ride she’s jumped on. Allow her to have her freedom, and she’ll always find her way back to you, for despite all of her wildness, this rose is a loyal one.

If anything the arrival on Teragaia has only enhanced her wild and unpredictable nature. Well, that and living next door, as it were, to one of her favorite partner-in-crime (*coughFelixcough*). After all, this is a new world, with new things to explore, new trouble to get into, new people to meet and endless new questions to ask of Belial. Why are there two kinds of dragons? Why does the IF work here? Why do people think clothes are dangerous? Hopefully the Archdevil's patience has remained intact as well to keep up! Or at the very least he perhaps can foster her off of one of his or his mate's companions for a time.

Outwardly is where the most of Sitka's change came from. She gained the multitude of teeth that Zaithand have (thankfully, this doesn't interfere in mind-speech). While remaining panther-like in general shape, she definitely had to get used to the altered tail (cleared a few low-set tables and bashed her bonded in the legs for a while there when she would forget), and for a time her favorite game was poking her new nose-horn into things to see what would happen. She maintained her primary red coloration, a base vibrant shade that can almost make her glow in the right light, with deep crimson, irregularly-shaped fade-in patched for an almost ombre-look. Over this rich purple bands and swirls twist like the dancing ripples of waves upon the shore. As ever, showing that no matter the outer package she is an always will be Sitka, her eyes still shine their vibrant blue, sparkling with merriment and zeal.

Previously, on Whazzit:

The Wild Red Rose Sugilite

Image for reference (Just pretend the horn curves)
Speech: Bold #A23BEC

Unpredictable. Spontaneous. Untamable. Those words and a few more work well to describe this Sugilite. Bouncy and energetic, she is always right there when things are happening, wanting to be a part of it all. She’s just as likely to be underfoot when you are cooking in the kitchen as she is to be pushing her head under your arm when you’re working. Always ready to try something new, she is more than happy to drag (or push, or coax, or trick) you into going along with her for whatever crazy ride she’s jumped on. Allow her to have her freedom, and she’ll always find her way back to you, for despite all of her wildness, this rose is a loyal one.

Average size for her rank, the base coloration of her pelt is a rich flame red, with darker red swirls. Purple bands and lines streak down her back and tail, down her forelegs, and across her head in random patterns, though looking closely you might be able to spot a swirl that kinda resembles a whorl of flames along her ribs .Like all of her kind, the horn that graces her head is matte ebony, spiraling with a slight backwards curve. By striking comparison, her eyes are a vivid ocean blue, full of her zeal for life!

Lindai! Description pending.

Previously, on Whazzit:

Bringer of Light Midnight
Inspiration

Very bold in personality, this Midnight is quite the character. She's very confident and outgoing, quick to initiate interaction with shinies and humanoids alike. Surprisingly, she's always a welcomed presence. Though a very extroverted girl, she never imposes; she's more like a cheerful wash of light that brightens up your day whenever she drops by to visit and check up on you.

She's an average sized Midnight, though her tail is a bit on the long side. Her hide is covered in dusted clouds of black and light blue and dark purple, overlapping each other in spread out layers. Brilliant white speckles cover her spine all the way down to her tail in a thick cloud, almost blocking out the other colors that lurk underneath. The white specks spread out across the top of her wings and down her flanks.

Talia!  Description pending.

Inspiration: Carnival
Font: Italic #7B6998

Previously, on Whazzit:

Carnival Ringleader Jewel
Inspiration: Carnival
Font: Italic #7B6998
Where her Jewel sister is the light-hearted, seemingly innocent one, this female bears a trickster personality that hides a slightly more twisted mind - all hidden behind a wry smile. She takes life as a walking joke, enjoying to perform tricks and amuse an audience, similar to her Shroud sibling. However, the more she is able to shock and awe the ones she performs for, the more wild her routines become. Tarzi help anyone who actually screams out in fear of her getting hurt, for that matter; this only encourages her further, to the point of almost manic laughter. Some may argue that this makes her seem insane, but when one loves what they do this much, all that matters is that they enjoy themselves, yes? She will only nudge others towards following what they love as well, whether it's by means of a joking poke at you, or by physically pulling you out, you will love life like she does. Or she will find a way to force you to smile, whether through her antics or through more horrifying ways.

On the average side for size and build, this Jewel is no less gorgeous than her siblings; with ears that are slightly larger than normal, wiry tail, and tapered snout, she more closely resembles a fox than a wolf, but no matter. The main color of her coat is a rich goldenrod, lightening slightly around her eyes and front legs in the seemingly genetic skeletal markings. Patches of lush plum and carnivale green cover the rest of her body, almost as if she'd been pieced together by an otherworldly source. A big squarish patch covers her left eye, further enhancing their sun-golden color.

Blaze of Glory Female Brass Nenalata

Young. Reckless. Stupid. Contrary. Intensely, infuriatingly nosy. There are a lot of descriptors that could be applied to this little flit, and very few of them are complimentary. She really is young, you see, and that apparently exempts her from basic tenets of good behavior. No one ever told her that she's a right pain in the ass when she gets all worked up and starts swirling in circles screeching at the top of her voice. She doesn't know better. She doesn't particularly want to know better. She's willfully oblivious, you see, all too happy to live as she is regardless of how *wrong* it is, and If you correct her... well, she's mastered the fine art of the kicked-puppy look. Expect to feel like a monster for cutting her fun short. Yes, she's a fun-loving soul, and she really doesn't mean anything by her social ineptitude, but that doesn't make her high-spirited rampages any less damaging, or her penchant for poor timing any less aggravating. She'll be a test in patience as she grows. Should she make it to adulthood- and with a bondmate like Belial, she almost undoubtedly will- she'll mellow out, maybe even grow into her social butterfly personality a smidge bit. Until then, though, expect her to leave a trail of annoyance and weary sighs in her wake. (...and, y'know. A trail of bills, too.)

Brasses tend towards the small side of the firelizard spectrum, but even for her rank this gal's rather petite. All the energy and verve of a larger rank gets compacted down into seventeen little inches. What's left seeps out her pores in a palpable aura of excitement and, well, chaos. She's skinny and scrawny and honestly a smidge unhealthy looking, her patched autumnal pelt pulled too tight over a frame that's all angles and bones. It makes her look fragile, but one look at her perpetually-sparkling eyes and all illusions of illness vanish. Somewhat darker than most Brasses, her hide wavers in slow-motion waves, dusky green toes fading into rich copper-bright ribs and shimmering brass topline. Her wings- short and stout, just perfect for high-speed aerial acrobatics- all but glow with sunburst patterns of seaweed and pollen yellow.

Fight Smarter, Not Harder Blue Mottle Male

As for his personality, he's a snarky, sarcastic little twit. XD But he's clever. Really clever, and knows how to economize his energy. It's not about being bigger or stronger than his rivals or his predators -- it's about being smarter. Out-think the competition, and then it doesn't matter if you're a rangy, scrawny little jerk without much meat on his bones. He's a survivor, too. His drive to keep living is really strong, so if he's in trouble...best not rely on him to try and save more than his own skin.

The blue in his heritage is very strongly presented, as his body is a rich, deep blue like the heart of a glacier, with an even darker shade along his underbelly and down the front of all four legs. This one seems to have some green in his heritage as well, as the scales that trace down his neck and shoulders are edged in an iridescent green like a beetle's back, with the same shade creeping a bit of the way up his wings. His eyes, ironically, are hellfire orange-red, much like Belial's when he's angry or actually showing sincerity - maybe a touch of red dragon in there as well? Who's to say.

Eyes of the Enemy Nobility Navarien
Bold 5E2D79
"Heroism" is always a challenging concept, but never more so than when it comes paired with a personality as prickly as most rose bushes. Navarien is a hero in the classic sense of the term. He's gallant, dashing, more than willing to face down whatever danger comes his way. He's also an unmitigated, unapologetic, unselfconscious ass. Let's try and reconcile those two, shall we?

Navarien is a soldier before all else. While other Nobilities were devoting themselves to statesmanship, he was forging his body into a weapon the likes of which the world has rarely seen. He was a force to be reckoned with even when he was young, and a lifetime of experience since then has done naught to dull his edge. It goes almost without saying that Navarien is a skilled soldier. It also goes without saying that Navarien's a natural leader. What surprises those unfamiliar with him is just how much thought and planning he's capable of. While Navarien might seem rash and impulsive, he does very little without considerable forethought. Every option is weighed, tallied and finally enacted with an eye towards minimizing casualties. While Navarien might not be a terribly friendly sort- indeed he seems to view unnecessary camaraderie as "slacking off"- he goes to great lengths to spare those under his protection from harm. He's a creature of his word, and promises from him are as good as edicts from on high.

No matter how Navarien tries, he's never going to be easy to get along with. The same drive that makes him a nightmare on the battlefield makes him impatient and condescending off of it. He's got precious little patience for noncombatants and draws no distinction between those who choose not to fight and those who are physically incapable of doing so. In his mind the majority of living things are self-obsessed cowards. He treats them with precisely the scorn he thinks they deserve. Worse yet, he doesn't take well to being outdone. Navarien can be petty and vengeful when the mood strikes him, especially when he views his better as *beneath him*. Even among equals he's brusque and short-tempered, completely without patience for life's eccentricities. He likes things clear-cut and dispassionate. Emotions are for those with fewer lives riding on their success.

However rough Navarien's personality may be, he's a stunning example of a Nobility in his prime. On the tall side of average, he's got the lean but powerful build of a warmblood bred for eventing. Flat muscle bulges and cords beneath a close-lying pelt the color of polished amethyst. Seams of brighter, almost metallic silver flow across his lower legs and over his flanks before solidifying into an almost armored line running the length of his spine. Crimson as red as arterial spray splatters his front, dotting his chest and dripping from his muzzle in macabre imitation of sabino patterning. More unnerving still, Nevarien's eyes burn as fierce and fiery as the heart of a forge.

Araqiel, description pending.