#robust antlers

[fotos-art]

Red deer in the Caledonian Forest, Glen Affric, Scottish Highlands

© Terry Whittaker

Alamy

Meet the mighty red deer! With its majestic presence and robust antlers, this animal is a true wonder of nature. Photographed in the ancient woodlands of Glen Affric, one of Scotland’s most picturesque valleys, the red deer is Britain’s largest land mammal. Found in various regions of Europe, Asia and North Africa, it has historically been a central figure in cave art and medieval hunting traditions. Its imposing and noble figure symbolises the wild and free spirit of nature.

[all-things-ghostly]

I like drawing ash as a silly deer and I don’t care if all the movies in the trilogy take place right after one another with basically no breaks in between, I’m gonna draw his antlers growing a little bigger with each installment to show how long he’s been on testosterone anyways okay. Okay.

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[lucettapanchetta]

Scavengers are like people, full of diversity! Allow me to show you the biological differences between all six of them!

Outskirts / Pipeyard / Farm Arrays Scavengers:

The most common scavenger archetype.

Fur ranges from pale tones to various browns.

Eyes are typically dark and subdued.

Primarily diurnal.

Omnivorous with relatively small mouths.

Lankier and less fluffy compared to other scavenger types.

Sky Islands / Industrial Complex / Chimney Canopy Scavengers:

The second most common archetype.

Possess canine-like lower faces, with coarse ridges on their tusks.

Primarily carnivorous.

Eye colors tend to be dark or desaturated.

Garbage Wastes / Waterfront Facility Scavengers:

A highly nomadic and adaptable group, incorporating other archetypes.

Due to low genetic diversity, they have interbred extensively.

Insectivorous, with mouth mutations suited to their diet.

Possess sensory lip whiskers to detect prey and navigate their environment.

Some dye their fur using weaker pigments, possibly mimicking their acropolitan relatives.

Fur is often mangy or unkempt.

Extremely thin and agile in build.

Acropolis / Undergrowth / Looks to the Moon Scavengers:

Hand-signing evolved substantially due to advancements in scavenger hierarchies.

Most commonly seen with non-functioning tails.

Known for being more "advanced" than most scavengers.

Wiped out after a certain event but repopulated during the Saint Campaign.

Dye their fur and faces with vivid, hyper-pigmented colors.

Features are more pronounced, such as antlers, eyes, and fur texture.

Longer fingers adapted for vertical climbing.

The most diverse group of scavengers.

Shaded Citadel / Dormant Construct Scavengers:

Do not do hand-signing like other scavengers do, comfortably relying on patterned stomps and scratches to create a "language".

Characterized by large, hyperpigmented eyes that tend to glow in darkness.

Small antlers and a slim, hunched figure, enabling them to squeeze into tight spaces.

Many have sensory whiskers, with some becoming blind through evolutionary adaptation.

Their fur is chaotic and untamed.

Somewhat stationary, territorial and known to make noises.

A distinct lack of lower jaw shape often causes frequent drooling.

The literal embodiment of a scavenger, feeding on whatever remains they find.

Drainage System / Sunken Pier Scavengers:

An "aquatic" archetype, though they are not proficient swimmers.

Amphibious hands designed for catching prey in water.

Their fur is dense and semi-waterproof.

Streamlined, smaller antlers suited for their environment.

Eyes tend to be smaller, with a range of colors.

Greenish fur, caused by algae buildup, provides a symbiotic advantage.

Typically, stockier and more robust than other scavengers.

[cafeeeeeeeeee3]

I WANT TO DRAW CENTAUR HORSE CROSS SO *BAD* BUT I SUCK SO HARD AT DRAWING HORSES

Like, hear me out. This man??? He is HEAVILY associated with the royal guard. There is simply NOT ENOUGH centaur Cross.

I first though Abt making him a Clydesdale, because, y'know, they're MAJESTIC. Beautiful horses. However, I heard that, although you can ride them, they're not exactly the sort of animal ya wanna ride for much(apparently their feet"" get injured often), which, y'know, I can't picture Cross not being. They're apparently "draught" horses??

So, uh, they are more about carrying stuff. Even though the shape language would be amazing for these, because they're very robust, quadrangular, it does not quite fit.

So, uh, I found some stuff. I found stuff about "destrier horses", which were horses trained for battle, and the Wikipedia lists some breeds. There are some listed, but the one I thought coolest would be the Andalusian horse, because not only does he seem to be the one most popularly known for being a battle horse, but it is also known as "Spanish pure breed", which I thought would be nice, because it is a little callback (even if he is not Spanish, following the Sans nationality = creator's nationality thing).

The Wikipedia article also cites its use in diplomacy. I think it's a neat parallel to him being a tool to appease somebody else (after all, he is simply a result of Xgaster trying to create a perfect world for Xchara and Xfrisk).

The problem is,,, I do not know how to draw horses. Much less understand the difference between horse breeds and accentuate them.

But, uh, this is an idea. I've also been thinking about making the dream tale twins into elks because,,, it simply fits their vibe??? It would be hella cool to have apple slices, rotted away (perhaps apple cores?) stuck in his antlers, sprouting into small plants that droop low — bowing, if you will.

I also thought about minotaur Horror(or simply have something along the lines of Cross, but with a taurine body. I do not think the minotaur myth exactly fits with him, but this has never been about that tbh), simply because,,, isn't it fun when the bull is the owner of the slaughterhouse himself???? And, like, I feel like there's such fucking sick metaphors to make with that. Nobody creates carnivore animals to eat in an extensive fashion because the animal would eat more than it's worth, ultimately making for a model that does not sustain itself.

I've kinda thought about dust and Killer, but, like, there's just not enough reason in any of my choices??? I think Ram Dust is really sick, because "yes". I do not have a deep reason for it.

I,,, don't really know what to do for Killer tho, if I were to do something like that. I thought about those deer with fangs, because I think that the way that their outward display of aggression ends up being bad for them kinda mirrors Killer.

I mean, if I remember correctly, he's quite literally taken off his "powerful" eye. It's why he cannot summon gaster blasters like other sanses do, instead being able to only summon a single one.

It isn't exactly about aggression, as much as it seems to be about trill seeking.

I do know this isn't canon, but I see Killer as an absolute adrenaline junkie. Mfer wants to feel good desperately, and he will hurt himself in the process without thinking twice — he will pet the kitties, whether they give him rabies or not (maybe some days he'll understand what the scratches mean and just,,, go away. Others, he will just try to coo and insist that they are really cute).

Anyways.

I also kinda wanted to make Killer a deer because in portuguese, deer is slang for gay and I really needed to fit this joke somewhere.

I have no idea what stuff like Swap and Ink would be too,,, like, Swap might be a moose because they're close enough to elks and they're also hella bulky, and really remind me about maple syrup, but, uh, they're REALLY big. Swap ain't that big. He's a small tank. Which might bring him closer to sheep territory, but I need a sheep that is BULKY, a sheep that can pack a punch,,, but I'm not sure. Since he is usually regarded as looking fairly weak(AND HE IS WEAK AS HELL. Swap has the stats of a normal sans, but none of the benefits,, I think he has TOP NOTCH protective gear so that most hits simply do not cause any damage. He can take the weight. I also think he has a shield, and he absolutely uses that shield as a main weapon — he fights against people whose defense is attack by making his attack his defense) a sheep might work???

Ink makes me think about cows. Because of the splatters, and because cows scream unhingedness to me (miltank flashbacks), while being usually hella strong.

They're not agile, though.

Ink always felt like a monkey to me, as the closest analogy. I mean, think about him,,, just,,, it does not fit here, y'know?

I also think it would be funny.

Anyways, I ramble too much.

[sororalice]

On The Blessedness Of Healthy Growth

A homily for the Full Moon on July 21, 2024.

Dearly beloved,

Happy Full Moon! In the “Farmer’s Almanac”, this month’s Full Moon is traditionally called the “Full Buck Moon”, named such because this is the time of year when the antlers of the young bucks have fully come in. Given this, I am moved to speak about growth and development.

Growth is usually seen as a good thing in our culture. The endless push of capitalism is for constant and eternal expansion and growth, and stock exchanges throughout the world always want to see the lines on their graphs go higher, the bars grow taller, and their “parts of the pie” get bigger. Growth is the name of the game in the world we live in…growth at all costs.

But is growth at all costs really a good thing?

As pagans, we believe in a naturalized theology. Our ideas about the Divine and the spiritual world are extensions of our ideas about the natural world and we look to the features and processes of the natural world to inform us about the features and processes of the supernatural world. So what does nature teach us about growth?

Growth is often a beautiful but bittersweet process. As we grow up, we exult in our new powers, while simultaneously our bodies ache from growing pains, and our minds and hearts wrestle with our new responsibilities. I don’t know of anyone who thinks of their teen years, a time of dramatic growth and development, as “easy”. Even those of us who were happy during our teens suffered the pangs of physical, mental, and emotional growth. Growth is difficult, and often leaves a trail of painful memories behind us.

Unlimited growth is also dangerous, as any of our siblings who have suffered with cancer can tell you. Our bodies, minds, and hearts simply can’t deal with the constant strain of growth, with cells, thoughts, and feelings multiplying out of control. Things that should be small grow too large, while things that should be large and robust wither and sicken as their resources are stolen. It is clear that growth of the wrong sort, growth in the wrong directions, is to be avoided when possible.

But these detriments aside, growth is almost always a good thing. One of the most important goals of the Great Work, the life of mystical exploration and growth pursued by many of our siblings (including myself!), is to purposely keep growing, keep changing, over the course of our lives, like a tree reaching towards the Sun. We wish to grow in our spiritual lives, in our relationship with ourselves, and our relationship with the Divine, and to do so we must remember that true growth takes place within and without, above and below, and in both the light and the dark. Spirit, that fifth element which guides, reconciles, and unifies the other four, is also that within us which aspires to rise to the Divine and that within us which pulls us down into the underworld to walk in the darkness and be reborn.

So as we look up at the beautiful light of the Full Moon tonight, as we greet Her in all Her glory, let us remember the joy and pain of reaching up towards the Sun with our branches and down into the darkness with our roots. Let us remember the joy and pain of expanding our horizons, testing ourselves in new and unexplored territories, and reaching out to new people and ideas. Let us remember to change for the best and avoid changes for the worst. And let us always remember to grow.

Happy Full Moon.

In love,

Soror Alice

Art: Raden Saleh, “Young Stag”, (~1844)

[nomsfaultau]

(Potentially) Daily ask №

PS. Potentially cause I probably won't stick to it

So, I was sitting on a lesson and then I realised that you allowed me to send you asks so I wrote out whatever questions came to my mind about Fault.

Wilbur edition!

His legs rearrange to be the highest individual in the room, yes? Is the hair or hats included in that? What if I wear an absurdly tall hat? Will he be taller than it or than my actual height?

He controls darkness or is darkness what I got out from your shitposts. What if I shine a really bright light on him. Okay but what if I go brighter. Or even brighter.

Do only his legs rearrange themselves to be taller? Does his torso stay the same? Does he occasionally look like a beginner artist who hasn't gotten the hand of proportions yet drew him?

If there's an illusion but he doesn't know it is one, will he be taller than it?

You said that he controls the darkness and all things that crawl in it. Moles technically crawl in the darkness. Can he control them? Mole pet when?

Would he and Nico di Angelo from Percy Jackson and the Olympus get along?

I've noticed that he doesn't get as much content as the other blorbos? Is there a reason?

The "Foreign no matter where he goes" post made me sad. The guy deserves a home even if his literal being won't allow it apparently. Can I hug him and how likely am I to die if I do that? Spontaneously hugging and asking first both possibilities included pls ^^

Okay that's all beeyeee

I am enthused to answer any questions and absolutely no pressure at all to ask them!

It goes to biological height not clothing, so a hat or stilts wouldn’t change his assorted height. Although doesn’t tend to count hair. It typically works mostly on humanoids who have matter but he can will it work on say The Blade, who at some point jokes that Wilbur’s height does not take into account his crown of bone-antler things. At which point yes it does screw you and it always has, mildly rewriting everyone’s memory of how tall Wilbur is. It’s a very mild and mostly useless form of magically controlled information.

He has a void on the left side of his face where shadowy eldritch monstrosities come out of. Wilbur can’t entirely control them especially when scared, but can give orders that may be followed or bargains that have to be followed but cost him something. They deffo get worse at night, and you’re on the money! The voidlings despise concentrated light. They do fine in normal light conditions, but flashlights and spotlights they don’t appreciate and will avoid, usually by fleeing into Wilbur’s face or risk dissolving. Wilbur himself is not harmed since he’s made out of flesh and bone (and arguably accurate organ arrangements). Hence the Foundation trapping it in very bright light 24/7. Godflame, which is what Philza is made of, is so anathema to the void that if it intersects with void shadow they both annihilate one another bc it’s a universal paradox to be in one place. Wilbur despises flashbangs in particular, but also doesn’t like complete darkness bc it can’t trust the void completely.

His proportions do not change at all! Which can look very silly. This is roughly its proportions when taller than The Blade.

(From casefiles again)

4. The height thing is not very controlled by him and would not work on an illusion. At which point Wilbur would like deduce the creature before him isn’t made out of matter.

5. It has some degree of control over shall we say capital Darkness that specifically comes from the void in his head and that are still connected by shadowy tethers to the void. Wilbur could potentially try to?? Manipulate the mole??? It would difficult as they don’t have a very robust language system but they are eusocial so I assume they have some level of communication. Since Wilbur can speak all languages it could potentially have rudimentary communication with the mole..? Honestly he’s more likely to eat it than keep it as a pet alas. He’s rather pragmatic, and feeding something that serves no purpose doesn’t make sense to a guy who’s spent most of his life on the verge of starving. Uh. Tommy excluded of course. 6. Well they’re both certainly edgy shadow guys for sure. Wilbur at least wouldn’t be racist to him once he realizes Nico is only half human. Potentially bonding over wrestling with powers, and not feeling like they fit in anywhere. Wilbur would probably think him stupid and gullible for falling for Minos’ manipulations tho, and wouldn’t cut him any slack for being young. 7. My focus on each of them sorta shifts around. I’m a bit on the Tubbo area atm though it’s about to transition to be more The Blade heavy. The first arc of section 2 was rather more Wilbur centric, with him on his own trying to defend the ‘kids’ and making some bad decisions in the process via deals with the devil. There’s lots of fun to be had with it in the future, particularly in section ~4 but also five main characters is a bit of a juggle sometimes. And also while SCP Wilbur feels distinct to me from the actual guy, it’s still sometimes hard to work with him because of his progenitor since I want the character to be fully unbiased when I’m writing it. 8. Part of Wilbur’s arc is to stop pretending it prefers life on the run and really does want a home. Not that living in a society is really possible, but it’s not called found family for nothing! It’ll have to be something made. And Wilbur is of a personal philosophy where he doesn’t kill anyone unless he thinks they’re about to kill him. Very golden rule, if often very vicious bc it doesn’t control the void completely. So, you’re very unlikely to die from a hug! If given a spontaneous embrace it’d probably be a little startled, but try to keep it brief since it doesn’t pass for human under close inspection and would prefer to avoid anything that could mean the Foundation finding it. If asked, he’ll probably calculate the risk of discovery versus social friction leading to greater attention, and accept the hug for appeasement. Since Wilbur really mostly hugs Phil, he’d likely find it surprisingly cold, and be perhaps too affectionate since he doesn’t know the typical level of affection for an embrace between strangers. It would probably be trying to gauge what gambit is being used by you, since it isn’t familiar/trustful of kindness from strangers. Suave and flippant on the surface, but mentally running around in circles trying to figure out what your angle is. Wilbur likes to pretend he’s always on top of things, but a combination of poor memory and lack of socialization mean he’s usually scrambling to figure out what’s happening lmao.

[thatcerealkiller]

“Violent yes, more violent.”

Astarion, allusion to M!Tav

Words: 950

Summary: A quick night hunt shortly after Astarion’s vampirism has been revealed. Mostly just a quick character bit.

CW: Animal death, mild gore, brief mentioning of sexual servitude & torture.

And the sky was made of amethyst

And all the stars were just like little fish

You should learn when to go

You should learn how to say no

- Violet, Hole

Astarion is tracking prey in the dead of night. He has caught the scent of a cervid, robust and virile, a stag. No one will think twice if they hear its dying bleat echo from the woods. They know what he is and their steadfast leader had even granted him the privilege of a bite. He can still feel the warmth of his blood on his tongue, flavored sweet and savory like a caramelized meat with a garnish of magic. Unforgettable, a vampire spawn’s first kiss. Now Astarion has a taste for the blood of thinking creatures and no beast he catches tonight will compare.

The rules have been broken. Cazador’s rules are no more.

Fuck him.

But he must feed. Astarion stalks closer to his prey, footfalls like a ghost on the forest floor. He remembers stalking the darkest alleys like this, the night when he was abducted by the ship. He was trailing a young man, all swagger and rakish charm but Astarion knew better. He knew this man slept on cold cobblestone when no duke or dame had hired his services for the night. His kind were not in short supply in the city. Astarion felt for him. He imagined that young man on his knees made to lick and suck every lady and gentleman on the guest list. Would he have preferred they trade places? Either way he would not be missed when he didn’t return from Szarr Palace.

Fuck him.

The stag pauses in a small clearing with ears erect. It knows it’s not alone. It raises its head against the moonlight showing off antlers full of sharp bony points. It won’t go down without a fight, but fights only come when a predator has managed to close the distance. This predator will not have the chance to come near it.

The pale elf readies his blades. The creature’s detected him but that’s never stopped him before. He is fast, strong, his senses heightened because he’s no mortal man of a hunter. He too is a beast. Astarion emerges from the dark in a dash towards the stag but his attack is cut terribly short. A gray wolf equally shrouded by shadows lunges at him. Not at the stag. At him. Its teeth snap at his neck.

“Shit!”

Astarion swings both daggers out just in time. They slash at the wolf’s pelt causing shallow cuts. The wolf lands on its feet and growls, it did not expect the pale elf to fight back. In the moonlight Astarion can see how small and wretched the wolf is despite its daring ferocity. It didn’t stand a chance against a full grown stag though if wolves could speak common it would tell him he didn’t stand a chance either.

“You robbed me,” he hisses at the wolf, the stag long hoofed away. “It was mine.”

The wolf offers only a snarl in return.

The vampire spawn snarls back, fangs bared and eyes seeing red. He throws himself at the beast blades first.

You took it from me.

The wolf is not afraid. It has no mate. It has no pack. It lives in a solitude that’s not its fault but it is its responsibility and it must fight or starve. It meets its silver white haired combatant head on.

You took everything.

They fall to the ground in a flurry of teeth and claws. Biting. Slashing. He and Petras tumbled a few times just like this. Leon too, much to their master’s annoyance and Godey’s elation. Violent yes, more violent, their torturer would utter, near lustful. Once, when the fighting had become too disruptive, their master chose to punish them by chaining his dear sons together and making them watch each other take turns being sadistically degraded. Did they learn their lesson then? Barely. There were no winners.

Astarion will not lose today. He will not be punished and shamed. He parries the bite, he blocks the slash. He is stronger than this sad little wolf and he is free. The pale elf stained in red plunges his dagger deep into the beast’s heart then drags the blade down to tear open its chest. The wolf yelps sharply and backs away, still able to stand on all fours with a dagger embedded in it. Not for long. The beast looks at him, seething.

Go on then.

It gnashes its teeth and foams, daring Astarion to strike the killing blow even as its body bleeds out on the forest floor. It will not die as a wounded dog. It’s the master of its own fate.

The vampire regards the wolf with disdain. He raises his second dagger and drives it into the animal’s skull, through the eye socket and into the brain. It’s not a thinking creature and yet he could see the hatred in its gaze. For what? For doing what’s in his nature? He is starved too, starved of rich abundant blood, starved of flourishing life, starved of the stag’s vigor and freedom to walk tall, starved of the chance to take from it what he couldn’t have.

Fuck him.

Astarion pulls the dagger from its chest and stabs the wolf again. The now dead wolf that feels no pain. Nothing can feel Astarion’s pain. He clenches the hilt tightly and grits his teeth. He is in control now. He is free. If the stag could only see him now. He closes his eyes and cries out, just once, before falling to his knees to feed.

[markhors-menagerie]

†Sivatherium giganteum

Art credit: Jaime Chirinos

9.8 feet (10m) tall and weighing about 3000 pounds (1,360 kg), this was a shorter and more robust relative of the giraffe which lived from 7-1 million years ago. It lived across Africa and in some parts of Eurasia, where it grazed and browsed in savannas and woodlands. It may have used its neck or fuzzy antler-like ossicones to fight for dominance like many of its relatives.

[theantiazdarcho]

Spectember day 25: Ontogenetic niche shift

Glacialovenator Pogonus:

Giant, adaptable apex predators, these tyrannosaurs display a significant shift in body size and proportions and hunting styles.

0-3 years old:

Glacialovenator does not take care of its young like other tyrannosaurids, they instead go to the boreal forests and lay their eggs in a well hidden nest. The hatchlings spend a surprisingly long time in the egg hatching a year after they’ve hatched. They will deliberately hatch during the start of spring which they will feast on the abundance of insects, small mammals, and flightless birds.

3-10 years old*:

As they grow, they will experience a sudden rush in hormones which cause sudden growth and the starting development of bright orange crests on their head. Despite not being physically mature, they become sexually mature and are able to mate and have offspring if the environment does not suit them growing to their full size.

10-25 years old:

With the whitening of their coat and the growth of their orange crests, Glacialovenator at this age typically start to hunt larger game, pursuing them along the steppe, and tiring them. The males will occasionally form packs in order to take down larger prey in order to gain more mass, which can lead to conflict with the adults.

24+ years old:

The oldest and largest class noted for having impressive red antlers, a beard, and robust body. Females, being smaller and slightly leaner, can form “matriarchal packs” in order to protect themselves while the males live solitary lives living a nomadic lifestyle.

[nurrgleth]

Chaos Furies of Nurgle

"Winged Daemons, murderous Nurgle energy made flesh, that prey upon the weak from the margins of battle."

Chaos Furies of Nurgle flock in abundance when the Plaguelord takes precedence in the Great Game. As with all of Nurgle's children, they are robust and the most physically sturdy of the Furies; this despite their decayed-looking bodies, riddled with rents, twisted wings and rotten, leathery flesh. They can actually be so big as to have trouble flying, and so tend to be ground-bound when they do not need to fly.

Even when Nurgle does not have primacy, a fair number of Chaos Furies tuck themselves away in the fetid swamplands and overgrown jungle that the Great Poxfather calls his home. They are disgusting creatures; coprophagic scavengers that thrive in the Plaguelands (and serve as prey for Beasts of Nurgle, carnivorous flora, ect.). The resident Nurglites are perhaps the most tolerant of the daemons when it comes to Furies, with Greater Daemons in particular taking on the winged ones as pets from time to time. It isn't uncommon for a flock of them to call a Fly Lord's antlers home and roost among them (as well as thoughtfully providing the Greater Daemon with liberal amounts of Fury droppings to mix into the rest of it's filth).

Of course, they are air-borne vectors for disease. Among the slow-moving, shambling army of Nurgle, Furies are quick and ferocious and each flock harbors it's own unique variant of this or that ailment which it visits on it's foes. Furies can fly over battlements and deliver pestilence to the mortals hiding behind them, though they are craven and fragile compared to the Plaguedrones they oft fly in the company of.

For those particularly prolific Flocks, Nurgle grants the gift of his rot when next he reaches primacy. They suffer and die, reborn forever in Nurgle's fatherly embrace. Those who resist the ravages of the disease the longest return to infernal life as Virago, leaders of the Poxflocks of Nurgle.

Unlike other Virago subtypes, Pox Viragos are gregarious and there is only moderate jockeying in the pecking order. Rarely does this turn fatal, as it might for a Khornate Virago; every living Fury is a vector for Nurgle's love, after all, and such a thing should not be wasted!

See: Chaos Furies

[brownhairedbookworm]

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t think those kinda bugs have appeared yet”

He slid past one tight gap to find a great mound in a vaguely humanoid shape, like a woman laying down, digitigrade legs that seemed robust and strong and huge antlers, the latter untouched by the flora covering the rest

“This is Vivo, the old goddess of nature”

"...Wow. Just big enough to not quite fit her all into your eyes, before you realize what she is." Or was? Is this a sleeping goddess or a dead one?

[cypaira-the-skeleton]

I was in a fantasy mood so today I have decided to redraw Paul Evergreen (Raven's grandfather) as a Cervitaur

(front view of the antlers)

I have noticed he looks more different than the first time I drew him, and I'm actually glad I gave him a restyle... although he's not entirely human 😅

Since I'm not as good with male torsos I did my best with Paul's and I think he's passable

As for his body, I have decided to give him the physique of an Elk Bull, making him look a bit more robust than a male Buck

Some of them might not look 100% great, but I'm starting to feel more proud of my progress

[shirecorn]

And Fluttershy isn't the only one. Strange transformations overtook several ponies, affecting them in different ways depending on their species.

A pair of unicorns, once identical twins, one half afflicted by the same malady. While the pegasus' bird wings warped and shifted, the unicorn's swirled antlers regrew into a fanglike shape.

Meanwhile, a young horse found herself with sharpened canines, shaggy fur - and just like the others - a hearty appetite for apple juice.

So what do these three have in common to undergo such drastic changes? Was it being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or perhaps getting a little too close to nature during cider season.

The Flimflam brothers tried ripping up entire trees to press into substandard cider, earning the ire of wildlife nesting in the branches. Apple Bloom decided to try out "pest wranglin'" as her life's calling.

And Fluttershy... Poor Fluttershy.

She didn't want to do this. But her friend insisted she help get rid of the unusual feral bats in the orchard using her animal skills. But the most important part of animal handling is knowing when to leave them alone.

One shouldn't tamper with nature.

Nature is a balancing act, a beautiful dance of give and take. Millions of years of evolution have crafted systems and relationships more complex than ponies can begin to understand.

One such system is that of the Vampire Fruit Bat, its target species of tree, the seeds, and a symbiotic relationship between all these plus a gene-altering virus that makes them what they are.

You see, millenia ago these bats were simple fruit eaters, munching through small fruits and spreading the seeds through their digestion. But over time, they acquired a virus that changed their physiology, making them grow bigger, with piercing fangs and a unique gut biome that thrived off the juices of larger fruits.

Large fruited trees like apples and pears evolved to be eaten by megafauna such as horses, but certain tree species benefited from a relationship with strange new bats. The trees changed their reproductive cycles to depend on Fruitvam interference in order to grow into healthy trees. Apples typically have a certain amount of moisture in them, but Pire Apples have an extremely high juice content due to their relationship with Fruitvam bats.

The bats are attracted to fruit with the highest juice content, which their virus-evolved bodies demand. The seeds pass through the bats' gut and are then laid in nutrient-rich guano (bat manure), which exponentially increases the seeds' growing capacity. While the juicy fruit attracts the bats, it is not as good for nourishing the seeds, so the apple tree depends as much on the bats as they do the tree.

The trip through the bat digestive system changes the seeds into more robust, high-yield trees that produce extremely juicy apples. The best cider is pressed from an orchard with a healthy bat population, even though they intimidate farmers at first by devouring their crops. If juices and cider products are a staple export, it's worth it to establish the bats as part of your land management.

Unfortunately, not everyone understands or cares about the balance of nature. You can try to eradicate them, but you must be very careful when doing so.

Bats carry many diseases, but Vampire Fruit Bats carry a particularly virulent condition that defines their life and environment. To the bats, the Vamprus is part of them, and they would not exist without it. They are not mere hosts to a virus, but invaluable partners with mutual benefit.

Fruitvams are born with vamprus, but they still secrete it in their saliva. This is a holdover from when it was a harmful, rabies-like virus that spread through bats biting each other. It does have some effect on their mind, drawing them to seek out juice-rich fruits at the height of ripeness, but this is what the food chain needs, so it is no longer a harmful behavior. They are not aggressive, and have no desire to bite living creatures, bats or otherwise.

However, if one handles a Vampire Fruit Bat with bare hooves, or harasses a nest, they will fight back. Ponies who have been bitten usually escape unscathed, as they are not the definitive host of the Vamprus virus. Those who do develop symptoms, however, need swift treatment or changes become permanent. After the virus leaves their systems, afflicted ponies will no longer be controlled by their desire to drink from apples' flesh, but they will always have a hunger for it.

Some ponies who tangled with bats can be so mildly affected they never even realized they were infected, with no indication save for minor changes... and an insatiable desire for cider.

MLP redesign masterpost

La chupamanzana!

Uh oh, looks like something strange happened to Fluttershy! Requested via ko-fi

[milkshakedyke]

Chandelier Lighting

Interior designers are unanimous on one thing: gone are the days when lights were meant only for illumination. These days, mood lighting is much more in vogue, and chandeliers, as well as light fixtures visit site here are well suited for this purpose. Mood lighting is a relatively new concept in interior decoration, and it means creating a particular ambience with light. This can be achieved by varying the color of the light, its intensity or the look of the lamp.

These days, more often than not, creating a mood, rather than illumination has become the primary purpose of chandelier lighting. The type of the chandelier and the nature of lighting used in it, play a deciding role in how the mood is created.

For instance, the \"party animal\" can have a sleek, gleaming steel chandelier fitted with psychedelic lights that would go well with his nature. The same steel chandelier but with muted lighting will be the choice of the introvert.

For those who prefer a traditional look in their homes, a five-arm ornamental chandelier in iron would secure the look. This type of chandelier has a stately look about it and can also be used at formal dinners. Crystal chandeliers possess a conventional and opulent look. They are elegant and exude an aura of aristocracy. If you want a soft romantic look, nothing can beat a candle chandelier, given that candles themselves look warm and inviting.

Robust-looking antler chandeliers are more in tune with the outdoor-type person, a gamesman perhaps. Then, you have the rustic-looking wrought iron chandelier, and, coupled with candle lighting, you have a period piece in your hands.

The possibilities are immense with the chandelier. With little variations in the type of lighting and in the make of the chandelier itself, drastic changes can be made to the look of the room and the mood you want to project.

[ainews]

Triceratops, one of the most recognizable and iconic dinosaurs, has captured the fascination of both children and adults alike. With its distinctive three horns and frill on its head, it’s no wonder that this creature has been the subject of numerous media features and pop culture references.

But have you ever noticed that most of the time, the triceratops mentioned in these articles and portrayed in movies are referred to as “he” or “him”? This raises the question: why are sons of triceratops often publicised?

The main reason for this is due to the fact that paleontologists have estimated that the majority of triceratops fossils found were of male individuals. This is based on several factors such as the size and shape of the frill, as well as the presence of brow horns, which are typically larger in males than in females.

According to experts, this suggests that males may have had a more prominent role in the social hierarchy of triceratops herds. It’s believed that they may have used their horns and frills for display and dominance, similar to how deer and other modern-day animals use their antlers.

This dominance theory is further supported by the fact that the horns and frills of triceratops are made of solid bone, indicating that they were used for more than just defense against predators. It’s possible that male triceratops also used their impressive features to attract females during mating season.

Another factor that contributes to the publicizing of sons of triceratops is the belief that they may have had a more active and adventurous lifestyle compared to females. This is because the skull of male triceratops is larger and more robust, suggesting that they were more physically active and agile. On the other hand, the smaller and lighter skull of females indicates that they may have had a more sedentary lifestyle, possibly focused on caring for their young.

Furthermore, the idea of fierce and powerful male triceratops appeals to the public’s imagination and is often portrayed in pop culture and media. This can be seen in movies and video games where triceratops are often depicted as strong and heroic creatures, battling against other predatory dinosaurs.

In conclusion, there are several reasons why sons of triceratops are often publicized. From their potential role in social hierarchy and mating behavior to their physical prowess, male triceratops have captured the attention of paleontologists and the public alike. And with ongoing research and discoveries, we may continue to learn more about these magnificent creatures and their impressive sons in the future.