ALL CORRUPT EVERYTHING [ body change ]

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]It had been a while since they had achieved true intangibility, so distanced from their home that it had become nothing more than a vague concept. They had cared about how they looked like if only to keep the mortals and those unaware of their true form privy of the fear it often brought. No one spared one glance at a wolf that looked just as normal as the next one. A few golden accents didn't make the void stand out, but that had been their goal for a while now. Don't stand out. Don't act strangely. Be as normal as those around you needed you to be.

They were tired of it.

Keeping a form that resembled something was too much work, the effort put into it taking up a lot of the time Lirim could have been doing something vastly more interesting and important. They were the void. They should have had the freedom to travel in between every world, dimension, creature, soul they wanted to, not be bound by mortal physics and bodies. They were vast. Endless. powerful.

They were tired.

The thought to change back to their true nature hadn't been a one-time event. It had crossed their mind many times already, a deep part of their core urging them to shed this foolish outer layer and give in to who they were supposed to be. An endless mass; dark, devoid of everything but the atoms that formed everything, shifting and changing in an endless dance with the universe itself. Freedom. Their name was freedom and yet they had none when bound to rules that should have never applied to them, to begin with.

And so they changed. There was nothing left holding them back, the last person they cared to present even decently as no longer affecting them as he had before. Bubs would love them regardless of what they were, who they looked like. He was family, and if their family didn't care... there was nothing else stopping the void from it's freedom. It started with a vibration, starting seemingly from everywhere and nowhere at once, faint enough to be ignored as a distance earthquake or impact. Still dangerous, though, still searching, especially when the quake only seemed to get closer with each passing second until there was nothing else left but the all-consuming shake that seemed only present in the subconsious. The outside world was fine; the trees were as they should have been, and the ground had not yet split open, but it was the minds that could have not taken the transformation.

Not that Lirim cared much. Whoever was too weak to take it was not their concern.

And then, just as it seemed the entire world was to implode, the whole thing stopped. The vibrations, the low rumble, the pulsating throb of the universe itself ceased, leaving in it's wake the dark mass who Lirim was always meant to be.

A low, deep, shaking rumble resonated around the creature once more, although this time it was far tamer and obviously based in reality, sending their body into another frenzy as it morphed in tandem to the vibrations in what could be described as their throat but wasn't quite. Not anymore, at least. Their throat was gone the moment the growl had left them, replaced and reformed somewhere completely different. Shapeless. Shifting. Free.

[ yeah so I wanted to go back to Lirim's original design, and so they're sorta just a dark vaguely-shaped mass that can shift it's appearance at will. For now this is the closest I can describe their current appearance, but note that it changes on a whim.

[Luciferr]

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L U C I F E R . G R I M M

"The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart"

[ a lil ahead of his current arc so hes stable (post-return when i get on that) / also oof this gave me muse an sorta became an MDC prompt ]

for so long lucifer was only aware that the void was his father entire.

maybe not the void one thinks of - but the void tahat encompasses all dimensions, that runs the black moat around the castles of each in the minds eye - a deep sea of nothing where light cannot reach and yet it's somehow bent into place as a place by father's whim alone.

more so for him t have platforms to perform his designs as void - as nothing

the only solace Lucifer has of his father is the knowing that he cannot breach the various realities - mother made sure of that.

it's a small comfort - for its been proven, the thing that is dear old dad can still seek him out.

Lucifer is afraid of very very few things.

but he fears his father.

he fears the inevitable and what it means for everyone and everything.

he'll die again to see them all safe, as he has done many times before.

Lucifer has always been a martyr.

so to think the nothing might spawn another that calls it home or father, or creator or whatever it chooses like it had his father, like it had him and his brother - well, he's prepared for another like dear old dad.

though he hopes perhaps they are more like him or his twin.

Lucifer is a dragon - and yet, he is not.

Lucifer is a thousand and one eyes, open or blind - he is dark and void, woven from chaos and nothing, inheritor of the shattered fragments of light - this is weaved against bones of red anathema to existence, shadows that warp and form and shift to whatever he deems them - threaded through with the silver-white edge of a stark distant sunrise so bright it sears and tears the eye to behold.

he is countless wings, feathered, webbed, mist, ash, shadow, light and void - a conglomeration that is an aberration to existence, for never should the twain meet of something and nothing - yet here he is.

he is ancient, he has existed from the start - an existence given form from two impossibilities like the rest of their line - an ancient shadow and he will exist far past when everything dies and falls to nothingness once more, cursed to never rest.

he walks among mortals as much as it hurts him - these brilliant finite lives, they enhance his own, they stop him from becoming as his father is - they who have gifted him a hundred names and a hundred words to describe he and his kind - god they call him, destroyer says others - always Pariah though, the odd one out in the family line up, marked by the lurid otherness of the scar across half his face.

a scar that was agitated recently perhaps - given the few added fissures of distinct red that litter the right side of his neck, like thin cracks in fine china.

but he is okay - they brought him back to himself.

he's fine truly.

his daughter was slaughtered - she's safe, her soul is in her other form, shes SAFE - his little brother is dead - he can see the bodies of his young sisters superimposed next to Luca's still form, no, he thinks, not again.

he will carry on, as ever.

this runs around the shadows mind - the shadow that has folded itself countless times until it fit itself in this form, curled in n itself and presented sharp spines and a carapace black as the dark seas above this world, layers of plating and wings that feather nears the ends in razor sharp cuts of white light in the multiples that rest across his back - a contradiction perhaps, but he gained them from the brother that is no more, he cannot resent his feathers so in contrast to his sharp edges.

so when the shadow meets another so strange, one that shifts on a whim where he pretends to hold to some consistency for the sake of his mortals - they are his, he claims them as an extended family in his own strange way, so perhaps the dragons mirror their creator line's children in some way, though lucifer's hoard has long been those he covets - he barely blinks - he sees past that veil as no doubt the other does with him.

so lucifer inclines his head to a being as tired and other as he - like can see like in their ways - and speaks

"I don't believe we've met, Luciferus grimm - most call me Lucifer" and if theirs a brief growl of otherness to the voice - like an echo of a name that isn't so easily pronounceable when he speaks with the mortal tongue calls him, well then theirs not many that could hear it save perhaps these two.

[ permission if u wanna go wild with how h perceives luci on another plane  or whatever feel free, i woulda with mine but idk if you would allow that? plus u described him beautifully already oof ]

tags — [color=maroon]large dragon — hellion [5ft] — typhoon / officer — extreme

© LEXASPERATED

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]The tilt of their head sends their body mass into a fury, head shaping and reshaping, unable to settle on a form it pleases until it eventually decides to have no head at all, flesh melting and burning away to reveal a skull that attempts to resemble a canid. It comes close, but there is still something uncanny about it, ignoring the fact that their entire existence is a spectacle in and of itself. But they feel free, empty, full all at once and cannot bring themselves to care much for the opinions of others. They do not understand power. They do not understand existence like they understood it. They had not died and redied a thousand times over to become who they were, did not understand that self was a matter of perception and was ever shifting with each passing second. One body wasn't enough. One mind wasn't enough. Not when you were everything ḛ̸̪vḙ̠r͉̥̜̘̠͇ͅyo̜̫̗ṇ͓̻̖͍̝͔́ę͚̹͎͓̟ everywhere.

They stay silent, watching, waiting, their body ever-shifting; not uncertain but cautious nevertheless. They did not care about dying, they would come back one way or another in perpetuity until everything ceased to exist and they did too. But they did not care much about interfering with mortal affairs, or stumbling across kin that they knew but didn't at the same time. They knew Luciferus, not by name nor by face but by existence, the same way they were certain he knew them. It was a bond that couldn't be explained easily, not one that Lirim would bother to try. It didn't need explanation, only understanding, and they assumed it was a mutual one between two creatures that, in all reality, had no right to remain in this world when they belonged to the void itself. If they fought, like Lirim had fought many, there would be nothing stopping this world and countless dimensions tethered to it from imploding with them. Lirim did not care for mortals, but they did not care for their death either. Everything was to run its course with as little interference as possible, and although they could promise they would uphold those values they did not know what their counterpart expected.

It must have been an awe-inspiring sight for anyone looking upon the two massive, dark creatures as if a part of the sky decided to drop upon the earth itself. It seemed they were more unstable than Luciferus was, either by free will or simply because the other didn't have the means of change as broad as they had, but it didn't phase them much. There was a reason they were fluid. Their vessel was a lie. A shapeshifting creature. A lesson in fluidity. They were both father, son, mother and daughter. Both the founder of the void and its offspring. They belonged to no one and yet to everyone at once, and if Luciferus crossed them...

Worlds would explode.

And yet there was peace in that knowledge. Luciferus was not one of their kind, not exactly. He was part of the void, although which part exactly they could not tell. It was as vast and shifting as eternity, holding each piece of reality together in ways that were hard to comprehend, and it was hard to tell when one part started and another ended unless you were that part yourself. But there was still something that bound them together, if only the realization that everything was more finite than most could comprehend.

How strange that they both pretended that they were normal. The son of the void and a part of the void itself, conversing like the universe could not implode by their mere existence and one misstep. Like countless lives hadn't been taken by them, their predecessors, ancestors and kin. It was a normal conversation, and introduction that meant so much more than msot would acredit to it. And Lirim played along, face twisting into rows upon rows of sharp teeth, bared but not quite smiling, only to reshape and morph back into an inky mass, skull hidden, rows of eyes peering at Luciferus and the world at the same time.

"I͓̝̰̳̥͜ ͕̜̞͉̰̺k͙̟̗n̘̦ͅo̺̮̩ẃ̖͓͍̫͇̬.҉͓̝̹̠̼͍̩" their murmur was as distorted as their physical form, a thousand voices seemingly pressed onto each other, each battling for victory, to be the one voice that they decided to go with. None one, and before all of them even had time to fade into an echo, they spoke again. Luciferus would understand. They were sure of it. "A̱͍̬͍̯͔ͅn̥͉̩̮d̴̝͓͕͓ ͔Ì ̼̗k̨̙̦no̦͍̠̺̗͘w͓͕̣ ̤̻t̛͇̦̩͓ͅh̪̤a̵͓̩t̸̹̻̦̳̮͇ ̷̰̞̣̻̫͍y̬͓̩͡o͙̭͞ṵ̶̼͓ ͔̻͚̥͚͞a̜̱̜̤͓l͎̮͖̳̩͟ṟ̣̺̗̀é̤̦̺̞̮a̦͓͝d̷y̧ ̸̘̙k̹͉̗̻̰͝n̯o͏͕͖̱̼̦w̯ ̶̠̠̻̩͓m̜̹̼̞̗͕̺e̻̩̮̠̩̘ͅ.̙ ̠̺̘̱̳͙͓" Not by name, but by virtue. By shape. By nature. They knew each other already, and would always know each other. Introductions were null when such a deeper bond than names could say far more than words did. But they played along, a deep, rumble of a chuckle that sent vibrations through their skull-like appendage and distorted their body once more echoing through the area before fading out into words. "Ḻ̵͕̞͔͎̮͎i͓̰r̫̲̕i̤͚̗͘m͍̝͓͈̲͔͎.͕̣̭͚͚̞̟̕" and they left it at that. Lirim. Freedom. The void. So many names but none of them ever meant a thing.