#sickleclaws

[filurig]

final 'member' of the sartrill collective - who isnt really a member at all, but rather assigned as their 'bodyguard' when they go on excursions to human cities by the Sartrill Sickleclaws (the defense force of the town)... more info on Herrr

a seeming 'lone wolf' - närsi is a member of the Sartrill Sickleclaws' reconaissance force. while tight-lipped about her background and personal life with most of her crakam coworkers, most of the basilisks in Sartrill look at her with sympathy due to knowledge of an event which happened to her family many years ago - an event which she herself seems to refuse to acknowledge ever happened, not even referring to herself with her family name. what everyone knows for sure, however, is that said event drove her to join the Sickleclaws, insisting upon it ever since hearing of the organisation and what they stand for - protection of sartrill and its inhabitants.

närsi is certainly a bit sour, although the darkness around them isn't as pervasive as their mannerisms makes it appear to be. while lacking a true affinity for it themself, they are an enjoyer of culture and arts, and because of that has spent a decent amount around the art scene in Sartrill when outside of work. they feel a strong urge to protect others - even if they aren't much of a social butterfly, preferring to hang around a few people rather than many. närsi holds grudges strongly and is quite uncompromising, and if an interpersonal issue arises, she prefers to ignore it and 'carry on', doing her best to avoid having to truly deal with it hands on.

friend of ronny and has been friends with her for a very long time - the two knew eachother from their childhoods. it is a complicated friendship, however - as närsi strongly disagrees with ronny's tendency to mingle with humans.

[druidshollow]

i think dune would love roleplaying as her evil warrior cats oc

YEAH. her name is like. sickleclaw. deathclaw. wrathstrike

[spymeister]

Incidentally.

Why does no one ever mention how hot the Predacon's claws are in Prime? Don't get me wrong- I especially love Megatron's design. I love how they married the strength and the grace of an actual gladiator.

But, man. The predacons were on another level. It's kind of the reminder that Megatron refitted himself into the frame of a warrior through experience and survival.

But the Predacons were already prebuilt for the violence of both defense, and offense. Like, recurved claws with reinforced corded tendons for gripping. They kind of remind me of raptor-claws, specifically the dromeosaurs with their sickleclaw.

Now i'm thinking about Seekers hunting like raptors.

[the-rhyme-witch]

"Immortal cells" had sounded like a good thing. That isn't much defense, but it is all I have.

My name is Merielle. I look twenty three, which is hard evidence that looks can be deceiving. I am petite and angular, with brown eyes and black hair that goes it's own way. I got it from my father and my mother used to joke that my hair shared my personality.

I miss my parents.

I can't tell you about mima and pepa, not really. Not in the way I want to. It has been so long and I've never been clever with words, but a description feels pedestrian regardless. I could tell you mima was statuesque, with satiny dark skin and hair she wore cropped close as moss but it wouldn't capture how she moved through the world like an artist, every choice and movement just so. I could tell you pepa was lanky and pale and that his wild black hair made him paler but it wouldn't capture how he could light up a room with a kind word or a laugh. Perhaps it is enough to say they were my parents and I loved them. We both did.

Coretta is easier to describe, if not explain. She was my twin, my sister, my beloved friend from before either of us knew the word, so she looked much as I do. We were not identical in soul, but in body and heart we matched exactly. When we were born, my parents had worried at first. Were we a soul split in two? Holy Sister Giriette had explained, though, and our parents had repeated her words to us growing up. Sometimes, when a chance to be reborn comes, two souls try to join the same baby at the same time, and when they do, the baby becomes two to make room. It has reassured our parents. It had reassured the others in our village too. A soul is a precious thing. The idea of one cut into two people was almost as terrifying as the Incomplete Ones, who had given part of their soul to demons in exchange for Red Magic.

Aside from the occasional accusation of our souls being spliced, Coretta and I grew up as happy as a childhood could be. You would not, now, recognise how we lived. The subterranean flurbarja that once roamed the land, leaving burrow networks that my people used to shelter when skaybarja came down in the storms to rake the land above, they are long since gone from our world, though they live on in legends as Floor Badgers and Sky Badgers.

Coretta and I were close, too, so close that we both chose the same mate and Jontotto chose to leave his family tunnel to join us in ours. In times now, this would be a complex issue, but in that time, love was not greedy. Love was not a fruit, to be cut up and doled out to greedy mouths until it was gone but rather a light that warmed a home and all that was in it, be there two or twenty. I shared my mate with my twin with joy and satisfaction and we were all happy. When Coretta became pregnant, then gave birth to my nephew, our family joy was magnified.

Then the Sickleclaws came.

Like the flurbarja, the Sickleclaws are gone from this land but unlike the 'barjas, I cannot mourn their loss. They came to the tunnels that were our home and tore them apart while storms raged and skaybarjas ravaged the land, but it was the Sickleclaws that took my family, snipping away their lives and snubbing the light from my world.

All except my nephew. Little Otto was just a baby, barely eating food, too young to even have a prename yet. I had buried my family, my mima and pepa and twin and mate, as was the custom of our people. Our families souls were cut now, free to roam the earth. Without a proper ending, the souls would be hungry for rebirth but my burial rites would soothe them from choosing their new life hot with anger from their lives cut short. I knew my duty now was to embrace my own grief, my tears reassuring their souls that they were loved to help them choose their next life well.

Then I had held little Otto to my heart, both of us sticky with the blood and mud of all the world we had ever known, and sworn an oath to the souls of my family. I would protect my nephew, and love him, and guide him. I would stand for his mima and his pepa and his grandmima and grandpepa too. I would be his family.

I kept my word.

I found us a new tunnel community. I carried my grief for my lost family like a dear toy, clutched hidden but close to my heart, and I did not forget. Otto grew to be a rambunctious seven year old and gained his prename, naming himself for his mother. Cortotto became my family and my soul glowed. It was not easy to be a parent to my nephew but I was shocked at how fierce my love was. I had loved my parents, adored my mate and had been bonded heart-to-heart with my twin, but nothing had felt like this. Even when things were hard, and parenting was harder than I had ever guessed, my love for my little nephew was a furnace.

Then the immortal cells came.

First it was a lump, a strange bump on the side of my chest. Then my neck started to bulge. The Holy Brother of my new tunnel, Honturru, had explained. Normal bodies die a little all the time, Merielle, but parts of you have forgotten. They do not die when it is their time and instead stay immortal, passing their forgetfulness onto other parts of you. We need death for life, my sister, and the parts of you that have forgotten this will kill the rest of you.

I had asked when? When would my forgetful, immortal parts push enough of my mortal body out of shape to kill me? Soon, had been Holy Brother Hunturrus reply.

I had thought of my nephew, my son in my heart, my Cortotto. I thought of the way his cheek dimpled like Jontottos had, how he had inherited my pepas hair like Coretta and I, how he bounced from being a small man to a baby and back in a whirlwind of elbows and mischief. I thought about how I had inadvertently made myself his world and in doing so left him starkly vulnerable. How could I let my immortal cells leave him alone, truly alone?

So I did what my village had feared since my birth. I made a deal with a demon.

I left the tunnel system during a storm. I had dodged skaybarjas and stayed wary of Sickleclaws, then knelt in the dirt. As the rain flattened the spring from my hair and splashed stinging into my eyes, I made the sign of demons and lay on the ground, closing my eyes and whispering my deal over and over.

"Do not let the immortal cells kill me, let me live long for my nephew, let me live, let me live, let me live."

Red had lit up the back of my eyelids.

When the storm abated and I climbed filthy and trembling back into the village tunnel, I felt at my neck, at my chest. They were smooth.

I found that having a nibbled soul was bearable. It was a weighty secret to carry. I knew my new village would spurn me if they they knew I had dealt with the Red Magic, that I had willingly become an Incomplete One. The secret lay hard and heavy in my stomach, weighing me down as my pared soul attempted to struggle against it. Sometimes, I would think of the souls of my dead family. Would they damn me for this? Should I have been braver, looked the death of my life in the face and known my soul would endure? Perhaps.

But then I would hear Cortotto laugh and I was not so sure.

Cortotto continued to grow like a weed, his body changing as he approached adolescence and his voice recklessly bouncing through octaves like our shared rebellious hair bounced on our heads. He grew taller and stronger.

I stayed the same.

Cortotto changed from a cheeky young boy to a clumsy teen, throwing emotions on and off like a cloak in uncertain weather, striving to discover what he though, and how, and why, aping his peers one minute and forging his own path the next.

I stayed the same.

Cortotto became a young man, his soft baby body hardening and roughening into sinewy muscle and stubble. His personality found a shape that fit and settled into it, like a new shoe just waiting for a little wearing to make it just so.

I stayed the same.

When Cortotto was first mistaken for my elder brother rather than my nephew, I realised what the demon had done, and cursed myself for a fool. The Red Magic had not reminded my immortal parts how to die. It had made my entire body forget.

Our new village watched. Then whispered. Then acted.

They came for me as a community, during a skaybarja rampage, a sad eyed Holy Brother Honturru leading the way. I knew why. I understood. I even had intention to stay but my cowardice betrayed me and I fled the tunnels to the surface. But I did not flee alone.

Cortotto came with me.

I told myself at the time that he did not understand but I knew enough even then to smell the lie in my own thoughts. My heart might see my little nephew but Cortotto was a man now and to deny him that was to deny our life together. I had taught him the faith of our people and he was no fool. He knew what I was.

He came anyway.

So when the Sickleclaws found us, I was not alone, and for the second time in my life, my world was snipped from me in a flurry of claws as my bold, beautiful, radiant nephew was hit in a strike meant for me. But the beast did not drop his body. It carried him away.

I followed, or I tried, but I am a small human. I failed. When Holy Brother Honturru and the village found me, I begged for them to kill me. I had run from them before but now he was dead. My nephew was dead, his souls journey cut short, and his body was not buried and his soul, his beautiful bright gorgeous soul, was left tumbling like a feather in a storm, starving and abandoned, and no amount of grieving would remind it of how much it was loved. The agony tore every part of me. My heart seemed to swell until I felt it would erupt through my throat, my skull seemed to squeeze down on everything that I was, except that they didn't because I couldn't change. I never changed.

Holy Brother Honturru did not kill me. He saw in my eyes that my depleted soul could not be let loose.

I lost my faith that day. That is I told myself over the decades that followed, as I lived a life for a score of years before moving to a new village, a new tunnel, a new version of existence, I told myself my faith was broken. It was wrong. It had to be.

It had to be wrong because if it wasn't, my beloved nephews soul had been left to choose angry.

It had to be wrong because the alternative was so much worse.

Time moves on, even when it feels frozen, and while I am immortal, people are not. Beliefs are not. I saw the 'barjas slowly disappearing and the Sickleclaws with them, then people start to explore surface-based shelters. I saw fashions rise and fall, languages move, customs spark into life and then falter without a trace. People started to farm surface plants, then train them as they trained animals until parks evolved as a space for humans to worship in a new way. My faith as I learned from my parents moved into first a nostalgic tale of old times, then to a barely remembered story until nobody knew it at all, though modern faiths hold echoes.

My grief changed too and I hated it.

Some days I found myself forgetting. Sometimes I spent a week without thinking of Cortotto. When I realised this, my blood ran cold and I panicked so much that I thought I was dying but the Red Magic of demons cares not for petty feelings. I lived on the same as always. So I started courting grief. I made a point of it. If my grief was all I had left of Cortotto, sharp and bitter and shameful as I felt, how could I abandon it? I had made an oath.

Every morning, I sat. I sat and I thought of Cortotto. I challenged myself to remember, again and again. I cut my heart with my memories and when time blunted them, I taught myself to remember myself remembering and cut my heart anew. I made this my new faith, patching it over the canyon-deep faith of my childhood, though I paid lip service to the faiths of the times. My nephew, my family, my hearts son, my boy, my Cortotto.

It was a time not so far gone by mortal standards when I found myself in a park.

As is the custom now, prayer benches lined the public space. I had lived too long to think much of this now, though how my parents would have stared at the open greenery! I found a space empty of people and sat on a bench, my body language matching that of the other people in the park. What they prayed for, I did not know, but I took up my real faith. I thought first of Cortotto as baby Otto, when my twin and our mate and parents had been alive, giggling like a mountain spring in a desert. I thought of our life together and how I had gotten him killed. I tried to pretend not to worry about his soul wandering hungry and alone and loveless and choosing rage because, of course, that was a dead faith now and of course I didn't believe it but not looking into a canyon does not stifle it's echoes and my heart remembered what my head refused to.

"You think of me after all this time?"

I turned. A person had joined me on the prayer bench. I had never seen their face before. Their voice was unknown.

I looked into their eyes and my battered, emaciated, wounded soul recognised what my mind did not.

Cortotto.

It’s been many years since you’ve stopped aging. You’ve seen nations rise and fall. Met, and forgotten countless people. One day, as you’re resting your eyes in a park, dreaming of a love long past, the person on the bench next to you speaks. “You think of me after all this time?”

[baylaart]

Thank you so much to everyone who came out to CWOS this weekend! This Dienonychus was my most popular print! Highlight of my weekend was when a customer very enthisiastically showed me his sickle claw tattoo right on his foot, so glad there are people out there that share my love of ancient feathered raptors. Additional thanks to @oerthen_wares for helping me out all weekend and to everyone who purchased my work! #raptor #dienonychus #dinosaur #feathers #sickleclaw #peabody #ostrum #watercolor #sciart #illustration #cwos #cwos2017 #citywideopenstudios #artspace #artshare #instaart #mystudio #naturalhistoryillustration (at New Haven, Connecticut)

[hazeycrossing]

m’ island name thoughts. going with a fossil/paleontology themed name!!

TOP PICKS

kaseki (fossil in japanese)

old amber (pokemon’s old amber item!)

for the aesthetic names

fossiljaw

sickleclaw

fernfossil

cambrian

pangaea

lymestone

saurine

and, honorable mentions

isla nublar

jurassic (island)

[mobauniverse]

Mecha Domination (Android) Gameplay

🎮 DOWNLOAD 📲 Android https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beast.mecha 📲 iOS N/A

🎮 SIZE 483 MB

🎮 DESCRIPTION Who would have thought mecha beasts would take control of the world one day? Our once peaceful world was laid to waste by rampaging mecha beasts. People lost their homes, their lives, and everything else they held dear. The world was plunged into a cycle of wars and massacres, until you, a skillful and valiant commander, emerged. You will lead the survivors in hunting and capturing beasts, training troops, forming alliances, and protecting humanity's last bastion!

-Explore A Mysterious World Discover the remnants of human civilization scattered across a boundless world. Signs of rare beasts? Requests for help from mysterious individuals? Resource nodes? Exciting adventures await.

-Customize Your Shelter A shelter is the only thing that can keep you warm and safe in the wasteland. Create your own shelter, expand it, and add decorations to make it feel like home.

-Build An Army of Beasts Despite their ferocity, you can craft tools to control beasts and have them fight on your side. Scorchers, Spikerollers, Tyrants, Sickleclaws, Firespitters... Create your own mecha beast army!

-Train Elite Troops Make sure you have enough units when searching for supplies, because aggressive beasts can attack at any time. Train your recruits into battle-ready soldiers and build the strongest lineup you can.

-Form A Powerful Alliance It is impossible to survive in a wasteland alone. Create or join an alliance to help each other build and defend shelters. Fight alongside your allies to restore order to the world.

💌 COPYRIGHT MATTERS & PAID PROMOTION Email digitalcomicsuniverse@gmail.com

#gameplay #newgame #newmobilegame #mobilegaming #android #gaming #gamingmobile #androidgameplay #apk #games #videogames #gamedevelopment #mobilegame #gamedev #indiegames #indiedev #gamedesign #videogaming #gamer #androidgames #newgames

[andresochoamadrigal]

t's a Jurassic World. Always was. Credit to spinozilla from @facebook. image from @jurassic_fun Stay cool, dudes! ✌😎 // Es un Mundo Jurásico. Siempre lo fue. Crédito a #spinozilla de #facebook. Imágen de #jurassicfun ¡Sigan cool, hermanos! ✌😎 #staysafestayjurassic #jurassicworlddominio #jurassicworld2 #jurassicpark6 #jurassicpark #jurassicworld #parquejurasico6 #parquejurasico #mundojurasico3 #mundojurasico @sickleclaw @owenpratt93 @jurassicworld @jpsacu #jpsacu #jurassicartwork https://www.instagram.com/p/CC5-5O3gs6Q/?igshid=15p1em664b781

[idecosupereco]

Once upon a time life on earth was so hardcore that an organism evolved a killing toe. #velociraptor #evolution #sickleclaw #dinosaurs #birds #chicagofieldmuseum (at Fields Museum In Chicago)

[inspectremorse]

((Oh man, so if he gets to be a dinosaur, he will 100% understand the raptor’s dynamic. That sisterhood among them is like the brotherhood of the police. Also, only male dinosaur in the park. Unless we give him a female body, which I am okay with.))

[littlemissleapyear]

@sicklexclaws​​ asked: If They Had A Kid Meme... // (Crocodile x Layla) @muselexum​​ asked:( Layla and Croc for the it they had a kid meme ) If They Had A Kid... (Meme) {Accepting} 

Name: Brandy ( she’s actually the third and last born to the pair) 

Gender: Female ( due to Layla being a Kuja she can only have girls) 

General appearance: Has Vitiligo ( dark skin with white patches) a piece of her dark locks has a stripe of white due a patch over her eye her Vitiligo causes her to have Heterochromia ( One green and one faint yellow) 

Personality: Shy but observant. A playful child but not without her wit about her. She’s one that will play the “ go ask your mother/ Father” game to get her way. 

Special Talents: Memorization, Brandy has an uncanny ability to memorize numbers, pictures , books and etc. Possibly due to her mothers skill at it but her attention to detail is nothing to sneeze at. 

Who they like better: Layla ( she’s a Mommy’s girl unlike her sisters

Who they take after more:  Layla  ^^^

Personal headcanon: Brandy is the ONLY child raised outside Amazon Lily unlike her two sisters before her. ( presumably born in a more ‘peaceful’ time that her parents don’t have to worry about someone up and taking her etc ) This causes some issues between the girls but dose not exclude that Brandy get the same Amazon training either. It’s just overseen by Layla instead of the tribe.  She’s the one that instead of ratting our suspicious people that work with her parents like her sisters, she waits and collects information before REALLY destroying them in front of her parents.  She also is the one daughter that enjoys music and would pursue a carrier.

Face Claim:

[littlemissleapyear]

@sicklexclaws​ asked: "Tell us about your home island, Krattz. What's it like on Lily Pad Island?"

          🕷 It was common for the Lieutenant to take his lunch in his office but sitting with the other officers did recharge his batteries. That and getting another lecture about ‘distancing’ didn’t sound up his alley in the slightest. So in the middle of chewing the other had asked him the question. A few others at the table were looking at him as well. Great.

               Putting up a single digit he at least waited and swallowed before answering, shockingly. Hand back down the raven hair shook his head. “What’s there really to say? It’s a place that services so much rain that one would think we’d have been swept out to sea years ago. It’s the deep mud the elders use to say.....then again those bog feel almost bottomless. There’s places not even the residence go due to never being seen again.” 

               The Lieutenant took a drink thinking for a moment,” It’s tradition to give those pools a healthy serving of your wealth each spring and fall. It pays it back graciously. from where? We’re not sure. Some say a god lives down there, kids think it’s Fishmen and Mermaids. I’m more likely to believe the children but nobody had the lungs or the tech to get down there...nothing else comes up.” 

               He let the other marines just chew on that information as he took to his meal a bit more.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything about the gold pools but then again these were good men and not pirates after all. 

              “The Lily Pads are big enough and strong enough to build houses on if their not already build on stilts. I’m a fan of the large ancient willows that grow there.....you should see the family of frogs that stack its trunk.....”  Was he going to elaborate? No, he was too much into his meal again.  🕷

[littlemissleapyear]

@sicklexclaws​ asked: 😳 Pretty wasn't an appropriate word for a woman like Layla. She was stunning, radiant even with an almost ethereal charm to her lofty visage. At times it seemed as though her jewellery were part of her body as much as her hair or eyes, always beautiful but not a person meant for somebody like him.

Send  😳 if your muse thinks mine is pretty {Accepting} 

{Oh Oscar you’ve fallen hard haven’t you~. If anything don’t tell her this or you’re going to overly inflate her ego lawl. Still, this is beautiful and she’s lucky to have someone so kind in her life......i’m so sorry for the shit she puts you through my dude....} 

[littlemissleapyear]

@sicklexclaws​ asked: [ 15 Words ] "The way you've treated her, it's no wonder she doesn't want anything to do you." Oscar said while passing Lieutenant Krattz. Was the younger marine commenting something to a man he shouldn't? Yes. Did he particularly care about doing so given they were fellow lieutenants? Not one little bit.

Break my muse in 15 words or less. {Accepting} 

          🕷 He’d been talking to a few lower ranked officers over their current mission. Rather happily at that for he was always willing to give credit where it was due but being brought down from that in mid comment just irked him. Like when one ran nails over a chalkboard , murder to his ears. 

              Clearly the younger thought he could get away with it being they were equals but it didn’t make it any more right for him to say it. It wasn’t his business to put his two cents in on his and his daughters drama. Sure he’d asked him to bring her in when crossing paths but Layla always seemed to ‘slip’ from his grasps. 

              The younger officers scattered at the comment knowing that something was wrong in the air the way Krattz seemed to glare at first before putting on a stern and ‘fatherly’ look of disappointment. Not that he had a right to it.        

             “It’s in your best interest to keep your thoughts to yourself on the matter. As her father I know what’s best for her and as a man that has yet to know fatherhood you know nothing. Back down, boy.” 🕷

[littlemissleapyear]

How would you describe the MUN of this blog? // Mari is honestly such a wholesome gem of a person, she is so very sweet and an utter delight to speak with! Her posts and content is so wonderfully written, it's a delight to read every day and the sheer level of characterization and content is astounding! Her OC's are creative as they are colourful and endearing, full of interest and wonder but since we're talkingly mainly about the mun, I have to give a big ass stamp of approval and recommend 10/10. Great person, great art, great writing! 🥇

How would you describe the MUN of this blog? {Accepting}

{ I'm not worthy of your praise ... I'm a god damn gremlin but you're national treasure for this. THANK YOU. I enjoy all of our conversations ...even when I'm just laughing at them or take 5ever to reply. Sorry about that. I look forward to more plotting/nonsense between our muses for sure ~! <3 <3 Stay Classy my friend ~!!!!!!}

[littlemissleapyear]

@sicklexclaws​ asked: Getting to know you // 🔶- Favorite color(s)? (and/or) 👣- What do you like to do in your spare time? Getting to know you Questions for the Mun! {Accepting} 

 { Color: I’m a big fan of Purple ...i can also be a sucker for pink at times( depending on the shade)  Spare time: Drawing, Sleeping, Reading, Writing and Collecting shit I really shouldn’t lol }