This clutch was desced by Zella. The theme was the movie 'The Princess Bride'.
The theme for this clutch was Revolutionary Girl Utena, a Japanese anime that I became interested in thanks to N'hn's player.
Wesley
Rukbat's harsh splendor burns perfect fire upon the very crown of carefully tapered head, giving way to a strong, solid bronze along the lean, powerful flanks of this most exceptional firelizard. No part of his perfectly-proportioned frame is bulky or flabby; trim, well-muscled hide slicks across his form with the effortless grace of an athlete. A swift, ingenious intelligence flames in the depths of each
skeptically arched eye; considering each option, he'll take nothing on faith... nothing but true love.
Stubby and blunt, the grungy gray-green that molds across loam'd brown of short limbs is reminiscent of rotting meat, left to fester on the forest floor. This small brown is a true monster: claws are variously overgrown or ingrown, tripping his movements into a clumsy stumble, and wings flap, uncoordinated, at pudged-out sides. His mouth is seldom closed; drool lathers uneven yellow teeth, and slavering rabidity is obvious in insanely hungry eyes.
Pastels flounce and flourish across the stately paunch of this brown, hide more given to lace-ruffled pink than respectable oak. Genial senility dulls the sparkle of watery eye, and wings trail, capelike and impotent, behind him. While still given to pursuit of maidens, he's oblivious to any higher goal; his mind is akin to the patterns that bubble across his hide: froth, fluff and frivolous foam.
Futile, unredeemable earth howls across the majestic proportions of ageless firelizard; feet root in oceanic turmoil, scaling from ankles' desperate, depth-torn black to wing sails' height-giddy ochre, the steep incline dizzying to the eye. Loss of reason, moral, consciousness casts sanity to the winds; eyes whorl yellow, utterly mad. Impenetrable, insurmountable, unattainable, he generates the intangible feeling of tumbling ceaselessly downward; of uncontrollably falling.
Impersonal calculation wraps a rigid pattern of black and cream-brown cups across the stiff hide of this blocky firelizard, movements of blunt limbs and foreshortened tail mechanical, inorganic. Monotonous hide-pattern continues to rhythmically flapping wings; there's no music in his movement, only the programmed certainty of a machine. Claws are precise and needle-sharp, calculated to never miss their mark: He cares not what pain he causes, even to ultimate suffering.
Pallid gray-green, as washed out as old laundry, rumples across this withered firelizard's hide, dangling raggedy clumps across her abnormally tiny frame. Miniscule muzzle constantly wrinkles, releasing irritatingly squeaky peeps; and though the hue of her hide hints at aged fragility, boundless energy allows for consistent bickering. Talons may be chipped, but their needling insistence is impossible to resist; while justice for all may be a noble goal, this comical harridan's pursuit of it is something less than glorious. Don't try to pull one over on her, youngster- sure as pills are hard to swallow, she'll catch you out at it, never you fear!
A baby canine's wriggling insistence bestows the gleeful cyan of this firelizard's hide with all the wiggly impatience of a kidlet: he wants excitement, he wants adventure, and he wants it right now. Candied cerulean pounces in caffeinated abandon across immature fingersails, blaring blue a neon beacon of glee. Stubby claws are too often directed towards those meaning only good: childish justice condemns the healthful, the elderly, and above all the boring. Give him attention!
Shrewd mischief dazzles within cautiously squinting eyes, but the hide of this tattered blue is somewhat less than glorious- raggedy-baggedy gray blue wrinkles down squat frame, pooling at weathered paws in shades of stubborn dirt. Stained and stale, wingsails spread their unwashed 'scape, a sneaky-squeaky sort of salesmanship puffing them into proud display. Con artist's flashy flair nearly conceals the true talent that favors the often deft shuffle of clever paws, and laziness goes further to mask miraculous gift: eyelids droop in wry irritation. Go away. He's retired.
Immense lace-blue wings fold capaciously about impressively dignified form, shrouding a somewhat roly poly form with fluffery and formality of the most royal ceremony or Senatorial address. Muzzle arches upward in convex aristocracy, classic victorian powder-blue forbidding interruption. Forever intoning dignified speeches, his voice is a dignified tenor, just begging to be interrupted by the meat scraps of willing senatorial aides.
Dark is the wave-lapped indigo that licks the lanky limbs of this dashing blue, but not so dark that the mask of sharkskin black which shrouds his mysterious face does not stand in stark contrast. The rolling gait o surf-wracked ocean lends him perfect balance on land of air, but broad, sail-like wings add a unique note to his flight; built for water, he cruises through the sky, a pirate ship in full sail. While athletic form and debonair demeanor seem impressive, even romantic, beware and keep your distance: he'll take no prisoners.
Sunkissed gold shines defiantly, pure in its honorable quest and unblemished in its valiant color. Buttersoft, it spreads evenly down her graceful neck, a lighter halo tipping the peak of each ridge and lining each bone with divine nobility. There is strength in her slim, sleek form, as well as an appeal that causes all to take notice of her subtle beauty. Gallant in mind and body, she is a heroine on a quest to protect others less able to stand up for what is right.
Buttered bronze suavely slides over the lean length of this ‘lizards dusky hide, pure in its color but not its intent. For all his physical perfection, there’s something tarnished, something tainted in the aura that surrounds him. He could have once been a prince, but the nobility has left him, abandoned him to manipulate and plot the revolution that will free his soul.
Purest bronze is laced through with shimmering silver, creating a glow around this ‘lizard’s princely form. Innocent white limns fingerspars and rounded neckridges before trailing along furling ‘sails, the small demi-cape shrouding broad shoulders beneath its flowing folds. He is purity and light, love and eternal hope.
Burnt umber curls and bounces it’s way down this firelizard’s long and lean frame, complimenting his paler than pale coloring. Dusky orange traces and intersects with tiny veins within transparent wingsails as it highlights feminine headknobs and dangling across a slim, arched neck to pool at its base, forming the indication of a small, heart shaped locket. Who knows what treasure he holds close to his heart.
Verdant darkness swaths over gloaming earthiness, curlicues of color flowing across large shoulders and down his broad back. ‘Ridges are sharp and deadly, gruesome in their intent while headknobs shadow and scowl over deep-set eyes. He’s not as suave and charming, like others, but there is something sweet and compelling about him.
Ruddy brick slathers the oh-so-smooth hide of this bad boy, lean lithe muscles accentuated by a careless blood red. This same color threads across translucent wingsails with naughty delight before seeping sinfully down his long, narrow tail before pooling at the spaded tip. Oh yes, he’s bad… but it’s so good to be bad.
Crushed basil and thyme mix in a witchy brew sprinkled fragrantly across the demure hide of this little green. Piercing nettles spike along dusky neckridges, pointed and thorn sharp, following supple spine and twisting tail to end in a dainty spade. She is sacrificed and protector, a faithful sibling who has lost her reason to believe.
Baby blue wisps softly across darker plum, boyishly innocent in its style. Youthful cerulean flows melodiously down shorn neckridges and tiger stripes across powerful haunches and lean forearms. Long elegant talons tap musically while his slender head tilts, listening to a simple duet that only he can hear. Perhaps it is his precious thing.