Godhood XIV - Usurper [Honey Edition Turn 3]

"OH SWEET A CENTER CORE WITH A PERSONALITY. I LOVE PERSONALITY BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT GIVES THINGS EVEN MORE PERSONALITY? NAMES. I THINK I'LL NAME IT CORONIS. ROLLS OFF MY TONGUE. IF I HAD ONE THAT IS."

Craft looks at Coronis. He's taken a more relaxed stance now it's clear there's no chance of Deitonation.

Don't worry, that's pretty good for a first go! My first act as a god cleaved one planet and shaved another. And I rely on Intricacy for power, for heaven's sake.

About Seriba, I'd actually like to thank you. I just made a smooth ball there, and you gave it a piece of personality. Really, you just hurried up the process the core would have done.

As for Coronis... Esmeralda's Crown, if my languages are right - don't worry if it doesn't look like much now. That's the type of planet that breeds a hardy people, biosilicas even. I'm not a fan of them myself - more of a fan of... hmm, I'll sit on that joke for now. Speaking of people, though...

Craft does a quick look-see at his compatriots, measuring their godly powers. He does a mental count.

Oh, wow. 11 out of our 21 spheres here - that's stuff that gives a god power, newborn, standard fare is one main one and two little ones, but each of the three spirits has one apiece - what was I saying? Right, spheres - More than half of the power we can get relies on some form of sentient and intelligent life.

I'm seeing spheres of Science, Deduction, Industry, Stories, Missed opportunities, Endings, Communication, Practice and learning, curiosity, memory, and progress. And that's a conservative guess.

We should probably think about getting some life in here.

Craft breathes over his planet, giving it the basis of it's atmosphere. He puckers out quickly, though.

Craft gives Seriba as much clean air as he has power left to do. 1 act.

Craft notices something in one of the gouges of Seriba.

Okay... Which clown put Dinobear fossils in?

"Curious, isn't it?"

Craft doesn't say anything, but he looks at the newt god. It's quite impressive that such a polished and shiny face can give such a dirty glare.

{HONEY EDITION #1}

The Mechanical Mantis is the first to arrive, followed by the Blind Newt. Both decide to observe at first, but only the former is polite enough to at least introduce himself.

The act of observation itself becomes far easier [for mortal eyes] when there is a light to see by. To this end, the Three Sisters graciously provide Esmeralda, an intense emerald sun. It illuminates an old acquaintance, and after glad greetings the Eccentric Artist forms a ring of cloud and rock around the star; Esmeralda’s Atrium.

The Eternal Honer appears next, doling out praise and pointing out flaws. He adds hidden treasures to the Atrium.

The Life of the Party makes a loud entrance, which the others attempt to ignore. He and the Spirit of Speech exchange flirtatious remarks and taunts, respectively, culminating in this universe’s first recorded instance of both sexual harassment and divine brawling.

Following an ode to posteriors, the Divinity of Intricacy steps up and creates Seriba, complete with a molten core.

The Cowering Canine, unused to Divinity, cowers by the side of the Lord of the Underground. His more experienced contemporaries attempt to comfort him in their own ways. The Curator of Curiosity approves of the Small One’s actions, and declares an intention to dwell in Seriba, after blessing it with minerals. The Smallest requests a different epithet.

The Mint Blacksmith adds fuel and forgeables to Seriba, and the Subterranean Salamander hides false fossils.

The Opportunity of Unmissable Abs attempts to give the Lupine Minor a drink. This meets with objections from another divinity, but to no effect. The Hound of Tales drinks the offering, and makes introductions and mistakes. A new planet, soon dubbed “Coronis” and given a fiery core, and a gouged Seriba.

The Boozebot runs a river through the Atrium, and the Patient Smith irrigates Seriba as the Hammer of Glass aerates it.

***

The featureless surface of Coronis quickly (by planetary standards, anyway) begins to take on character. Ground cracking and twisting, mountain ranges and volcanoes beginning their violent formations.

During a thunderstorm on Seriba, a lightning bolt happens to strike an exposed copper vein of unusual length and conductivity. The energy surges through the metal, passing deep underground, where the false fossils lie. As with Frankenstein’s monster, when the bolt strikes the dormant bones of a dinosaur-bear, it is brought to a semblance of life! Alas, though it thrashes mightily for a thing with no muscles, it can barely shift the earth around it even a centimeter. Instead of rampaging across the surface of Seriba, an un-natural, un-dying beast that never was, it remains entombed beneath the earth until volcanic activity happens to drop it into the planet’s core, where it is incinerated.

The Energy of New Beginnings provides everyone with five acts.

The Energy of New Beginnings fades slightly.

Acts

Nash-Marr: 0+6=6

Suki, Mia, Amelia: 1+7=8

Craft: 0+5=5

Olmolm: 2+6=8

Kahtrak: 0+5=5

Bacardi Clear: 3+6=9

Lord Rack: 0+5=5

Universal Reference SheetShow

Cosmic ConstructsShow

Esmeralda: A large sun that radiates intense heat and light. It shines in a lovely shade of green.

Coronis: “Esmeralda’s Crown” A small planetoid in a shaky orbit around Esmeralda. Has an extremely active molten core. Currently the closest planet to the sun. Temperatures range from practically on fire to actually on fire.

Esmeralda’s Atrium: A few humongous, distantly spaced asteroid clusters, suspended in a stable ring of nebulous gas, mist, dust, and dark matter. A thin river connects the asteroids. Each cluster contains common metals as well as large nuggets of valuable, high purity metals near their centers. [Listed: Gold, Platinum, Titanium] The temperatures range from warm to quite hot.

Seriba: An average sized planet with a molten core and a thin atmosphere. It contains an average seeding of both precious and common minerals, readily available veins of copper, and good amounts of fossil fuels. Temperatures range from freezing to temperate. Has impressive geography--A continent of chasms and cliffs and valleys-- the result of Nash-Marr gouging the surface. ⅓ is water/ice. Further from Esmeralda than the Atrium. Has a significantly longer orbital year than standard, but a roughly average seasonal year.

”Locational Constructs”Show

”Seriba”Show

False Fossil Record: Real bones of fake dinosaurbears and dire shelled beasts are hidden beneath the ground. They will cause future paleontologists to believe that the world is older than it truly is.

Metaphysical ConstructsShow

Energy of New Beginnings: The birth of a universe empowers all divinities with a certain amount of creative potential! The number of acts received from this event decrease each turn, so be sure to establish something under your spheres before it's completely gone.

Yes Craft, no time to waste. I assume we will be cooperating on this? I have an idea for a shoreline biome that you might like.

Kahtrak appears to be waiting until the atmosphere is a little more robust and the planet more settled before he continues spending acts on it.

Actually, I was thinking of starting in the mountains.

Craft prepares himself, muttering under his breath about bloody newts.

He casually swipes his sickle-claw over Seriba. From the brief slice in spacetime pours more water (1 act) and out flows more air (1 act)

He then heads for the... the Nash-Marr Ranges? he'll ask later about that, and prepares his hammer. He towers over the entire range, perched on continent's edges, and brings down his hammer-arm.

WHAM. (1 act)

The hammer strikes the earth, but does not damage it; instead, the shockwave that emanates is the green of a thousand budding small plants. Each grows a beautiful 7-petal flower, and many, many small green leaves.

Craft then reduces his size, about as high as the mountains now, and prepares for another swing against a cliff face.

WHAM. (1 act)

There is no shockwave from this blow, floral or otherwise. It seems like nothing has happened until Craft lifts his hammer.

For a second, it looks like a hundred colourful snowflakes have been printed on the wall, albeit at 7cm in diameter. Then one shifts it's 6 wings, and suddenly the butterflies are off, searching for flowers from which to drink and gather pollen.

Craft shrinks himself once more, down to about twice the height of certain apes which resemble Lord Rack in general physiology. Here he raises his hammer, one last time.

Whump. (1 act)

This time the hammer sinks into the earth, creating a hole a few meters deep. All around the area, similar holes appear, and have been there for years from the moment they are placed.

When Craft lifts his hammer, a few startled rabbits look cautiously out of the hole. Their horns, shaped like a ram's horns, are brown for camouflage, much like the bunnies themselves.

Craft, having exhausted his influence, heads back to the divine main, growing back to about the godly equivalent of a foot in size.

Wolperams, like their inspiration, have certain problems associated with them, notably their... impressive population growth. This could cause problems unchecked, but i lack the strength to do much else. I only ask that you look into it, and don't overbalance it with something that could completely decimate them.

God log:

Craft provides more air and water to Seriba - 1 act apiece - 2 acts.

Craft create a 7-petaled mountain flower. It is now known as Mountain's Luck, and comes in lots of colours. 1 act, centered in the valleys of the "scar" of Seriba but hardy enough to eventually span the continent.

Craft creates a six-winged butterfly. These "Snowflake Butterflies" drink nectar, and pollinate the Mountain's Luck, allowing population growth for both of them. Like their namesakes, each butterfly has unique monochromatic patterns on it, based on it's experiences as a caterpillar. They have no current predators. 1 act.

Craft creates bunnies with ram horns. These are now known as Wolperams, and eat the Mountain's Luck. They breed like rabbits and have no current predator. 1 act.

I say we focus our attention on Seriba. It seems to be our best bet if we want-

AND THEN MIA MADE MORE ASTEROIDS!

True to her word splatters of ink appeared all throughout The Atrium, even as similar splatters appeared around Mia. The ink began to take on less abstract forms before changing into new asteroids spread throughout The Atrium. These asteroids differentiated from those that had been created previously in that they were covered with a thick layer of soil to allow plant life.

Ha ha! Aren't they great? Now to make some plants.

Did you even consider what plants to put on these new asteroids, seeing as there is no rain in the atrium?

Mia just stares at Amelia for a moment before saying Oh.

Mia has filled the atrium with some more asteroids covered in a layer of fertile soil- 2 Acts

Oh hello, I don't believe we've really talked to each other yet.

My name is Craft, and I like to go by the moniker of the Artisan. You two are two of the trio, yes? I don't believe I've had a good chance to talk to your third partner, the fire god, either - I have been too busy on Seriba.

Craft bows before the girls before him, before realising it looks silly at this size. before before before before.

*Ahem* I don't think you really need to worry about water. Bacardi took care of that with the river-ring, see? Although you might want to increase it's water content, it's a little threadbare here and there, but his power's keeping it liquid for now.

Nash-Marr just watches, marvels, and begins to understand. Being a beast inclined to waxing prosaic and getting entangled in adjective, all the little details - the meshing of mundane, multipurpose gears that built up this universe and many others, Nash-Marr's included - failed to interest him. Sure, there were times such a list could be interesting, but when if ever had a list been the basis for a good story? Was listing a hero's great achievements a story? Naming the world's highest peaks? Flying to all the stars in the sky, for the simple sake of checking them off one by one?

Nash-Marr wrapped a contrite tail round his legs, as though he were being scolded anew and not as a pup in his memories. Of course those weren't stories. They were like pups - they belonged out of sight, out of mind, out of narrative unless you had some need for them; if that were the case, trot them out and be done with it.

Nash-Marr felt this way about all these discussions between the gods, tweaking Seriba and the Atrium until life might survive there. The Hound wasn't all that inclined to try with this "life" nonsense, there was already quite enough to be getting on with for a young god.

Seriba has no moon, which seems a rather disappointing state of affairs for the Hound. He finds some point in space where the planet retreats to a comfortable distance, but where the tug on Nash-Marr's hair is still the domain of Seriba, not the sun.

Nash-Marr wants a moon, and from some reserves he does not understand he finds one, almost as beautiful as he perceived it in his mind. The moon is small, the moon is bright, the moon is made of translucent rock. Nash-Marr was aiming for a perfectly cut gemstone to hang in the night sky - what he's got is spherical (from most angles), and its facets reflecting prismatic bars across Seriba's surface are (mostly) (roughly) symmetrical, but Nash-Marr's picking and fussing at it fails to raise it to the diamond standard he desires.

He stops his fidgeting long enough to ease it along its new path, doing his best to gift it a stable orbit through space. Anxious but a bit pleased with himself, he finishes it off with a hollow core - a cavity no greater in diameter than a quarter of the moon's, but the better to toss stray beams upon Seriba. It's the ambition of the God of Tales that one day, someone might glance up at his beautiful moon and spin a hundred fantastical tales, to outshine the dozen he wove of his own world's nondescript rock.

Nash-Marr has made a small, translucent, crystal moon for Seriba. The moon has a stable orbit, a hollow core, and casts stray beams of light upon the planet's surface. -4 Acts

Sure, sure! I still want to do the beaches next though. All I really want from you is a hedge-living (I.E. non-burrowing) version of your burrowers. And maybe some baitfish or similarly niched creatures, if you have any ideas.

Kahtrak begins to mutter, mostly but not entirely to himself.

What can I make that is elegant enough to live under that moon, in this alpine paradise? It needs to be something graceful. Well I guess it doesn't need to be. I could just make something shockingly out of place.

...

Why not both?

Kahtrak takes a vast wad of clay from beside a lake and begins sculpting a creature. Very little smoothing is done, however, and a fat, lumpy torso covered in thick grey skin with innumerable wrinkles takes shape. The creature's flattish face bears two large, golden, lidless eyes with small pupils located behind a very large mouth with a few teeth and a long, sticky tongue. A single, seemingly vestigial horn rests above two nostril slits. It stands on four long, stocky legs, each ending in 3 splayed toes with a small talon. They still seem slightly spindly compared to the rest of its body, and after breathing its first breath, the creature kneels, hiding its limbs entirely under the rolls of it's torso.

There, graceful and shocking. I call it a Boledrom.

Boledroms are fairly sizable ambush predators that move and hunt by jumping distances. They carefully aim to crush the unsuspecting prey when they land, so it can be easily swallowed whole in their vast maw. They will frequently and eagerly attack prey that is too big for them to crush.

I think that this species is well suited to keeping rapid breeders in check because it can kill several of them at a go if they cluster.

The boledrom lifecycle is solitary. They hatch from large, leathery eggs buried in groups of about 10 under the sandy soil of mountain luck beds. Left to fend for themselves, they perfect jumping and use their sticky tongue to catch snowflake butterflies.

As adults, they have no use for their tongue (yet.) and instead hunt any moving creature they can spot using their bulk. Adult boledroms mate seasonally, in a brief, boring ritual, and part immediately after. Since boledroms have no way of harming each-other, they have no territorial interactions, wandering freely in search of prey. However, elderly boledroms will often settle in a favourite haunt that they know their way around by heart.

The main weakness of a Boledrom is that they are primarily vision based, and by the time they reach adulthood their eyes have migrated most of the way down to the underside of the head (an irregular process that rarely results in a symmetrical face). An adult Boledrom observes its surroundings via an upward leap. So, they are very vulnerable to being snuck up on while on the ground. Their bodies are technically capable of walking, but very few actually know how.

2 Acts for a mid-sized creature.
...1 Act for a sticky tongue.
...1 Act for cushioning/crushing bulk.
...1 Act for a mighty leap in lieu of ordinary movement.
Name: Boledrom

Hm... I don't know what kind of plant to make... maybe if I had some of Lorie's brew-

NO!

Why not?

The last time you had that crap you spent all of our energy on a species of fifty foot long rainbow dragons that ate clouds and used psychic powers to force intelligent creatures to ride around on their backs as they flew around leaving a trail of glitter and rainbows.

Ha ha! I remember those! I called them the rainbow dragons... You would think I'd be able to come up with a more imaginative name.

Leave this to me. I can get a good cycle going here I'm sure.

Too late. While you two were arguing I decided to give The Atrium a rain cycle.

The water from the river streamed out into clouds that would rain down on the dirt asteroids. After a day or two, this fallen rain would be called back to the river from whence it came, lifting out of the soil to stream back into the large body of water.

Get around to making plants whenever you feel like it.

Of course Suki.

Create a stable water cycle in The Atrium- 2 Acts

Olmolm looks sadly at the struggle of the bone beast.

"What a sad creature! It got a second chance at a life he never had. I will think up a way to memorise its graceful trashing."

The Life of the Party watched in giddiness as water began to follow a pattern of ecological logic in a certain ring of asteroids. Evaporation, condensation, accumulation, precipitation - everything assembled into an amazing yet incredibly boring system that was marvelous to none but the most passionate of meteorlogists. Science was kind of mind-numbing like that, but hey, Bacardi could not complain. After all, he was drunk.

"AH FABULOUS. A WATER CYCLE, I AM PLEASED WITH THIS INCREDIBLY SEXY ASPECT."

No one responded. Mostly because Bacardi never gave people time to respond.

"BUT HMM. I STILL DON'T THINK SHE'S QUITE SEXY ENOUGH. SHE'S QUITE UNDERDEVELOPED. NOT QUITE...LARGE ENOUGH. LARGE ENOUGH FOR ME, AT LEAST. HA! BUT I CAN EASILY CORRECT THAT."

The God of Science, Water, and Bad Decisions waved a substantial wing over the entire span of the Artium. Banners unfurled themselves from his shoulders and touched the fertile providence. A grinding, deafening noise reverberated across the lands, as the dust started to settle, as every piece of stone and soil joined together into the gestalt. Pretty soon, the asteroids were less like space clumps and more like respectable continents.

And oh how large they were!

"PERFEEEEEEEEEECT," the word hissed like the steam through a pipe. "BUT SHE'S TOO...FLAT." Bacardi nodded to no one in particular.

"A LADY'S GOT TO HAVE SOME CURVES YOU KNOW."

Without even a Planck's second to hesitate, Bacardi started to rend the lands with his mighty scythe claws. His method was violent yet there was no wound, no mighty fault where the talons met the earth. Hills rose to the heavens. Cliffs snaked through the soil while mountains grew like mighty weeds. Pretty soon where there was just a flat plane, there was a majestic set of mountains. A mountain of such asethetic and impressive stature that it could be appropriately described as "awesome." It was an awesome set of mountains indeed.

"DAYUM GURL, YOU FINE." Bacardi settled on the tallest peak of the Artium, smugly and proudly taking in the sights of the Artium. He decided the tallest mountain shall be called Bacardi's Ascent, after himself because he was so awesome. Like the mountains but significantly more. "OF COURSE, WHAT'S A PRETTY LITTLE LADY WITHOUT SOME PRETTY JEWELRY?"

Bacardi laughed. He laughed really hard as little sprouts sprouted over the ring-world. They curled and twisted. Their tendrils hungrily basked in the sun. Pretty soon, there was a small carpet of green around the mountain in which Bacardi observed. Little flowers, young grains. Bacardi could only laugh as the first living life began their slow crawl to the rest of the world.

To the rest of the sun.

(-2) The ATRIUM ASTEROIDS have been upgraded to ATRIUM CONTINENTS!

(-1) AWESOME MOUNTAINS spread across the ATRIUM.The highest peak is called BACARDI'S ASCENT.

(-1) ERZAHLUNG has been created. They are really pretty flowers which are not really different from other pretty flowers except for the fact ERZAHLUNG looks like it is completely made of water. Did I mention, it's pretty?

(-1) KABOUTER has been created. They are fast growing cereal grains. Their caps are red.

Suki had flown in from the sun to swim about in the river, the fire that makes up her form changing to water as she examines the new continents from the river.

HA HA! You're an easy guy to hate, but the way you talk when you create things is just hilarious. I must thank you for your contributions to The Atrium. I must also ask your name as I've yet to hear you give it. Mine is Suki.

Craft seems offended at the fact the girls COMPLETELY blew him off for rain on the Now-ringing world's rain cycle, off all things.

Well, we certainly have life now...

But we still need an intelligent and sapient- oooh, shiny...

"QUITE GENEROUS OF YOU TO SHARE YOUR NAME FIRE LASS AND IN TURN I SHALL GIVE YOU GENEROSITY OF MY NAME." Bacardi decided to punctuate the last word with a very obvious hip thrust. "I AM BACARDI CLEAR GOD OF ALCOHOL AND WATER. AND SCIENCE BUT EVERYONE KEEPS ON FORGETTING THAT FOR SOME REASON. AH WELL, GOT TO FORGIVE PEOPLE FOR THEIR MINOR PECCADILLOES, NO?"

Lord Rack had uncorked a bottle and had already been holding it in Mia's direction, but he hastily pulled it behind his back at Amelia's objection, coughing into his other hand totally unsuspiciously. Nothing to see here, nope nada. While the glass gourd spun itself out of existence with a brisk sparkle and pop, he reminisced about Mia’s awesome rainbow dragons (why would anyone think those were a bad thing?) and figured cloud eating definitely needed bringing back, especially somewhere whose air was so full of energy as the Atrium's ionized gases, with flight (or rather, flotation) being a default mode due to the zero gravity situation.

Bacardi’s actions were not devoid of purpose and style, but Lord Rack felt he missed the asteroids. The Atrium was beginning to turn into an imitation of a planet’s surface, simply displaced into space. It seemed like a... missed opportunity! Or a poor, alcohol-induced decision? Well, at least it was still progress of a certain kind. The deities were all acting out their spheres with subconscious dedication, Lord Rack mused. Thankfully for the humanoid god’s plans, some of the asteroids he had initially cast- devoid of soil, unlike the spirit trio’s- had escaped the compaction into flat landmasses, and remained floating unperturbed.

"The inverted world of inkclouds drifting in an ocean, so have I witnessed clouds of clear water in a sea of nebulous gases! So vivid an art does Suki bring forth, so welcoming a garden does Bacardi set. With a sky so magnificent, it is about time something is born to thrive in that beauty."

Energy replenished, Lord Rack scanned for an area sufficiently far from any of the ‘continents’, looking for any congregation of the initial asteroids that would not bear any typical organic life. Having finally found one, he somersaulted into the the ring nebula and landed atop a skyborne congregation of asteroids that had remained, labcoat buttcape billowing dramatically as he brought his hands together in a loud clap. A shockwave of sparks was birthed and they snaked into the clouds, arcing along the peculiar atmosphere’s ionized particles and lighting up the outline of clouds as they grew in size and split into many smaller sparks, which would join the growing electric choreography in more and more intricate shapes. Newly formed, semitransparent shapes began to swim out of the small storm, reflecting Esmeralda’s Atrium’s myriad of colors. These multiplied in number until the last sparks had flown and died off, leaving a swarm of wormlike creatures in their wake. Some smaller, some larger, they sang beautifully in chimes and windy voices, swimming and spiralling off into the most distant reaches of the Atrium in a vast migration meant to spread apart their territories. Eventually they would be a semi-rare but not unusual sighting no matter one’s location.

“Hark, the Lygiswyrm! These birthing grounds of Philomela’s Nest will forever be imprinted in their racial memory, and their cyclical return to them for their optimized season of breeding may even serve as an eventual marker of the passing of time for another race. They will fill the Atrium with sound, woo each other with the creativity and complexity of their songs like the birds of lore, and bring delight to themselves and others with ever-evolving musical craft!”

Lygiswyrms [bestiary entry]:


A toothless, wide-mouthed, vaguely draconic space worm whose maw is shaped like a natural loudspeaker. It has a pair of low-set eyes, a few gills, earholes, and blends semitransparent into a nebulous surrounding.

Sapience: They may not be very smart, but they’re self-aware. They’ve got feelings, personality, fluffles and luffles, silly existential ponderings like Was I A Pretty Flower In A Past Life, et caetera!

Feeding: Like aquatic filter feeders, except it feeds off many of the gas components of the Atrium’s atmosphere, using it as fuel. As long as it keeps swimming through space, the Lygiswyrm is causing its nutrients to pass through its body and be metabolized. These reactions produce sparks of light, causing a wyrm’s body to ‘glow’ brighter the faster it moves. However, metabolizing too quickly may cause its cells to become very ill or stop functioning, causing permanent damage since Lygiswyrms do not have good healing capacity. Normally, a lygiswyrm flies at a slow, leisurely pace, moving in forward spirals like a chinese dragon.

Sexes: Unisex/genderless. All have the ability to fertilize each other and to carry babies if they so wish!

Breeding: Attractiveness of mates is determined by the beauty and complexity of their songs, though individual tastes also heavily apply in choosing a mate. Or mates. Two or more Lygiswyrms need to cluster, curl and twist around each other for awhile to be fertilized. I don’t think I need to explain why this only works when they are attracted to each other. Anyways, the fertilized part of the population returns to their initial asteroid cluster breeding grounds (Philomela’s nest) once per something like 3 Earth years. There, each successfully fertilized Lygiswyrm live births about a thousand tiny baby Lygiswyrms.

Life cycle: Earthworm sized at birth, but most of them grow to dolphin size in adulthood. Babies follow their parent around closely until they get to a certain size (takes about 2, 2.5 years.) They typically pick up a first song by imitating their parents, helpfully indicative of lineage.

Predation: Lygiswyrmlings are about the easiest animal to find for a snack. They are slow, noisy, dumb, and frequently need to rest their cells by sleeping- The parent(s) can be led away from a sleeping horde of babies for easy pickings, and even should the parent be around, it is probably too exhausted after giving birth to put up much of a fight (Fight? More like, slowly bumping into you while trying to look threatening). Older Lygiswyrms are tough-skinned and taste gross, but baby ones taste somewhere delicious between jellyfish and duck.

Society: Mostly solitary since it takes quiet to be able to develop one’s own music, but they wander a lot and regularly cross each other and engage in social interactions, friendly music jams and whatnot that cause certain melodies or styles to trend among the species once in awhile. Think of everyone being neighbors, nobody being roommates. Musical ability, honesty, and empathy = Good WyrmRep. Predators, selfishness, dominance plays = Bad WyrmRep.

Basic Animal Life - Worm-to-Dolphin sized, Uncommon distribution (2 Acts)
Special Property - Gas metabolism (1 Act)
Obsession/Instinctual attraction - Sexy singing (1 Act)
Sapiency - Of an unintelligent species (1 Act)

Total: 5 Acts

In reaction to the appearance of Lygiswyrm, Bacardi had only one word.

"EXCELLEEEEEEEEENT."

Holy crap, super sexy singing serpents. How could the God of Alcohol say no to these super sexy singing serpents? In gratitude, Bacardi decided to pinch Lord Rack's buttcheeks, both of them,without any warning. Don't worry, it's a gentle pinch.

Lord Rack made a very unlygiswyrmlike sound, swinging around to confront the culprit. "Does he claim excellence of the wyrms, or excellence of an opening? Sacrilege of the divine posterior must be returned!" He paused, giving Bacardi a long, hard look, bushy brows furrowed. "I... cannot locate your derrière."

Bacardi helpfully points out where his butt is.

Suki is laughing as she observes these shenanigans from the sky of the atrium in the form of compressed air.

Mia is flying behind some Lygiswyrm listening to them sing gleefully.

Amelia has gone off to examine Seriba, thinking that the obsession her companions have with The Atrium is counter productive.

As the butt in question was not anatomically obvious, Lord Rack produced a permanent marker and drew a mustachio'd face on the butt with choice eyelashes, a sideways nose and a fixed gaze. He then slapped the face lightly on the now well-defined right cheek area. "That's right! You better regret!" He intonated reproachfully.

Craft pulls himself away from the spectacle of the crystal moon. He gathers his thoughts, and speaks to a few of his fellow gods in turn.

Kahtrak: The Boledrom are a unique, but admittedly effective solution. And a Two-For-One deal, to boot. I have already started conceptualising up the "Bait-Fish", but how would hedge wolperams help the biome?

Lord Rack: Such beautiful singers, those lygiswyrms are. But don't despair: I think The Atrium could be a ring-world by the end of this, and that's beautiful in it's own way.

And you, young fire god: Greetings and salutations. My name is Craft, and you are?