#wingrot

[random-autistic-loser]

Apple/M1ttens Rambles

TW: Skyborn call of the crow spoilers

TWIG MY FERAL LITTLE BABY GOT HIS WINGS CLIPPED- IF ELLIE, GUSSIE AND NOX GOT THERE JUST A BIT EARLIER HE WOULD'VE BEEN FINE- AUUGHHHH THAT DAMN WINGROT GRR BARK BARK GRRR

[sukipershipper]

TEX BLAZEBRUSH: Tex is the youngest brother of Maple, youngest son of Figgy Pudding, and father to Maretime Bay's beloved Sheriff, Hitch! Much like his son, Tex is a gentle and kind soul, always wanting to give back to the community. He has great strength and is a hard and dedicated worker, with a love for food and family. Occasionally, Tex can come off as a but standoffish and grumpy, but get to know him and you'll find that...well that's exactly what he's like, but hey, ya get used to it. 

MAPLE FROSTTRAIL: The eldest son of Figgy Pudding, Maple is the adoptive father of Sunny! After her father, Argyle, passed away, Maple took on the role of a father figure for Sunny and moons later he would end up adopting her. Maple is a very knowledgeable pony, with mountains of history stacked in his mind, and a very strong memory, he is the towns go-to Historian and a huge inspiration for Sunny in her historical and academic ventures, should she wish to go down that route anyways.

LUCKY MOONSTONE: The father of the every quizzical and curious, Izzy. Lucky is an astronomer with a love to create and design, passing his love and fascination for the quirky and unknown onto his daughter. However, moons ago, when Izzy was a filly, she went missing and Lucky got lost in a changeling hivemind trying to find her. When he did escape, he wasted no time trying to find her again. Reuniting with her in Maretime Bay, he had never been happier and he went right back to showing her all his favourite crafts. 

ALPHABITTLE BLOSSOMFORTH: Everyone knows Alphabittle well. The larger than life Unicorn is the beloved father of Misty. Alphabittle is a lover of puzzles and games and of course, he has great knowledge of Bridlewood traditions and rules. However, he is not only the father of Misty but is stepping up trying to be a rolemodel to his girlfriend's daughters, Zipp and Pipp, as their own father, King Cobalt, had unfortunately lost his life to a tragic wingrot. Of course it is a rocky road, but no pony can say he isn't trying. 

Cobalt and Argyle both watch on from another plane, keeping an eye on their children and sharing their love with them even when they can't see them. 

[immortal-saccharin-swan]

If you forget to preen your wings you’ll develop wingrot, wingrot causing rapid rotting and necrosis of your wings. Do you want your wings to fall off?

-/ Harpy Anon

"...I get where you're coming from, and I appreciate the attempt to help, but I'm already working on it, and I don't think my wings will be molding anytime soon."

[nnkdrippybot]

What's up with you then, Tenny-boy? Wingrot, is it? Touch of hornache?

[bastardgoblinwolf]

so im making a fantasy world with like fairies and shit, and this is the main character: a fairy named Nellyday

you can't see her wings because she has a condition known as wingrot- a degenerative disease that causes gradual deterioration in the wings of a fairy- so she doesn't use her wings to not speed up the deterioration. she's a groundbound adventurer and likes it that way

anyway everyone love Nellyday NOW

[behindthescenesobg]

xander post

first look at the main “villain”

bit of a tw, for combat, disease, bl//d, and other such things

xander “hydra” acaxi is the general of the Hyxalian Air and Space Fleet. Worked his way up from infantry to general, and has fought in battles starting all the way back in 5430 in the war of Mubaulea. He’s got a pretty standard history when it comes to this, fought and got his ranks as he went. What I think is hella important is the 5444 Battle of Mesotov.

imagine, if you will:

volcanic landscape, a giant industrial complex, and a full scale invasion from the Aptorian Assault Fleet. This planet hosts a factory, about the size of a small city, that produces planet killing weapons (Glasser cannons. Massive ship-mounted “laser” cannons that heat the impact zone to such tremendous temperatures that regardless of material it turns to a glassy solid.). The factory was owned by the HASF at the time, and they had received word of the incoming invasion, therefore they put their best troops and ships in wait. Upon the arrival of the invasion, the planet erupted into the most aggressive warfare it had seen in almost 200 years. This battle lasted for a month, with massive casualties on either side. In this battle, Xander met Vincent Aznaal, a captain of the opposing fleet. 3 weeks into the assault, the AAFS Falcon and its fighter squadrons encircled the northern sector of the complex, where the 43rd Platoon of the Hyxalian Ground Forces were stationed. Xander was one of the few survivors, who was granted mercy at the hands of Vincent. Unfortunately, this mercy was taken as weakness, and a sniper from the HGF opened fire on the enemy. Vincent took a hit to the wing with a pathogen-coated bullet, which is how he contracted wingrot, a disease that “melts” the wing of the infected until the immune system destroys it. Xander took the opportunity to flee, and in the ensuing firefight took a shot to the shoulder, back, and leg. He was then left alone in the sector for 3 days, where he nearly bled out. After his encounter in the north sector, he was taken back to Hyxal for treatment, where he began to argue a case for a counter to the Aptorian fleets. These arguments were heard, acknowledged, and then enacted, placing Xander as the commander of the new Hyxalian Deep Space Fleet. This fleet started having regular engagements with the ASF, with a pretty significant win rate. Xander slowly worked his way up the ranks with his wins, and eventually became the General of the HASF.

now that that’s out of the way, I can talk about him. He’s tall, mean, and vindictive. No justification, just how he is. He likes to invite his important prisoners of war up to his main chambers to give them a choice of enlisting with his military, or death. He has no “friends”, no biological family, and no close advisors. He has a “wife”, but she’s just a robot that was programmed to give him someone to talk to so he doesn’t go completely power mad.

he’s 6’8, built like a wall, and he HATES everyone. HATES. Except his wife robot. He loves her. Because she isn’t real.

xanderpost done

[awanderingrat]

WAIT WAIT. NIKOLAI WITH WINGS CLIPPED AGAINST HIS WILL OR WINGROT. I BE THINKING ONG IM DRAWINGTHSI RIGHT NOW

WAIT WHAT IF. FYOLAI SKYBORN AU. I KNOW THERES LIKE MAYBE 1 (one) PERSON WHOS IN BOTH FANDOMS BUT GAHHHH

[red-man-of-mustache]

   Starter Call

     ❝D’you ever get-a wingrot? I heard that’s not too fun.❞ Not one of the best subjects to bring up while eating a bag of potato chips. Yet, here they are.

[astralnexus]

srs question

what do I watch rn

[kog0ruhn]

The End Pt XXIV - Arsenic

When Arkose was young, she could remember running in the Scarred Wasteland with Clan Elsewhere, trotting beneath her mother’s feet as they wandered the Abiding Boneyard and beyond. Snap had seemed so powerful back then, head high and gembond glistening like precious treasures that she wore like badges of honor. She smiled rarely, but there was an air of pride in her that Arkose drank in like rainwater; she smiled enough for the both of them.

Now, her mother seemed different. Pride had been replaced by rage that had been bred from panic and sorrow, the loss of Mainshock weighing heavily on her as she wrangled The Abandoned like a herd of floracats. The Fifteen had voted to break themselves apart and to appoint a new “War Council” based on skill and merit, some of whom had never graced leadership positions in their lives. It showed, and Snap--already partially defeated--struggled to keep every last division of the “new” Abandoned in line where their new leaders failed.

It was no easy task. While Snap had been elected to lead the dragons selected to be front-line warriors and Earthquake, thankfully, knew how to keep the researchers in a row, Bifrons refused to actually help in leadership while claiming that his only purpose was to help track and contain Flauros. Grimoire had no social skills to speak of and despised the fact Mange recommended him to lead the mages, opting instead to hide in dark corners unless forced out by one larger than himself. Vivec proved to be an adept planer and had helped round up quite a few others with that particular gift, but they were a rather aloof dragon who didn’t respond to Snap no matter how ferociously she argued. Inculta and Absinthe wanted to lead the scouts and healers respectively, but the scouts despised Inculta and Absinthe was too meek to demand the healers’ respect.

Especially Avernus. Bad blood between The Infected and The Followers saw to that.

Yet the Fifteen stood by the elected, citing them as the best of The Abandoned, and Snap was stuck in the center. Arkose tried to help however she could, but it always seemed like too little too late. Besides, the bulk of The Abandoned didn’t know her from the Plaguebringer. Why in the eleven hells would they listen to her?

After a long moment of silence, watching as her mother stared grimly at the Fifteen’s altar, Arkose cleared her throat. Without the skull helm of her tatters, Snap was perhaps one of the most beautiful dragons Arkose had ever seen: strong and powerful and graceful and fierce. It was a face that was once an inspiration to her, even if they differed in their views. Now, in her current state of mourning and frustration, it was nearly impossible to look at.

“Mother?” Arkose croaked. “I think maybe you should go to sleep. Dad will be back in--”

“No.”

Snap’s voice was cold, tired. Arkose shrank towards the ground.

“You can’t lead if you’re not well-rested. And I know how you are. You’ll work yourself to death.”

“If that’s what it takes.”

It was like being slapped.

Arkose was never one of the tougher of her siblings. She wasn’t weak--she admired her mother’s strength even if she never quite understood her callousness--but she wasn’t a warrior like Fracture, or a master scout like Mainshock had been. She had a brother in the Wasteland who was a master poisoner, and a grandson who had come back to Elsewhere to serve as one of The Wolves. Arkose wrote books and cataloged illnesses; she was ill-equipped for her mother’s wrath.

Yet, she understood it. A flicker in Snap’s eyes let her know her mother was sorry, though no words were exchanged. Arkose inhaled deeply and exhaled in a long, exasperated sigh.

“I’ll handle whatever needs to be done. Just promise me you’ll take a nap, even for just an hour.”

“I can’t.”

Snap’s voice was softer, distant, maybe even defeated for the first time in Arkose’s life. That hurt worst of all. Opening her mouth to speak again, she was suddenly cut off by a voice--cold and firm--from somewhere behind her.

“Go. Sleep. Arkose is smart enough to handle things for an hour or two. If she proves incompetent, I know how to handle it.”

Arsenic.

When Arkose was small, she had feared Arsenic. Anyone with half a brain in their head would. She oozed with disease and anger, beetles swarming her path as they devoured the wingrot that dripped from between her scales. She’d never had much in the way of patience or sympathy or kindness or happiness. She was loyal and almost idiotically so, and that was the most that could be said of her aside from her prowess in war. It was the only thing that made Arkose feel safe from her.

But she and Snap were as sisters. Since her father had been crippled, the two protected Elsewhere almost entirely alone. Sure, there were others--Doubt and Aftershock and Gravel, and Aconite before she passed--but her mother and “aunt” were the backbone of the clan’s defense.

Arkose went rigid as Arsenic stepped into the light, positioning herself between mother and daughter, her rank lion mask dripping with disease and slime that smelled of earth and the grave. She focused on neither of them, icy eyes staring straight ahead as she continued to speak.

“You’re nothing without a sharp mind, Snap. You know this. Rest. Now.”

Snap and Arkose exchanged troubled glances beneath Arsenic’s chin, the Imperial unwavering. Something was wrong. Arsenic had been so shaken by Aconite’s death that she had dared to show her grief, but now? As frigid as ever, as still and emotionless as ice itself. Yet, there was something forced in her tone.

“Arsenic, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” the Imperial replied sharply. “You’re tired. You’re lax. We need you at your best.”

“And why are you so concerned?”

Silence answered her, and Arkose’s face fell. She could see a give in Arsenic’s face, something weak and sorrowful. It was the expression of a dragon who had lost everything, if only flashed for an instant.

“Where’s Strychnine?” Arkose demanded.

Arsenic didn’t respond.

[immortal-saccharin-swan]

When was the last time you preened your wings? It’s essential to routinely preen your wings to ensure you dont get wingrot.

-/ Harpy Anon

"Well, can't exactly establish a routine if I've been sleeping centuries after centuries away...but to answer your question, aside from today, I don't remember.."

[nnkdrippybot]

What's up with you then, Tenny-boy? Wingrot, is it? Touch of hornache?

[nnkdrippybot]

What's up with you then, Tenny-boy? Wingrot, is it? Touch of hornache?

[nnkdrippybot]

What's up with you then, Tenny-boy? Wingrot, is it? Touch of hornache?

[nnkdrippybot]

What's up with you then, Tenny-boy? Wingrot, is it? Touch of hornache?

[astralnexus]

“If there’s one thing worse than Wingrot, it’s Blackrot. Ugh...”