In some environments, it's hard to tell the difference between genders and species. Organisms share genetic material more easily on this planet, and that leads to some complicated taxonomy. In this case, we see a group of aquatic creatures acting as nurses for a seemingly endless field of eggs. But the network of underwater chambers in which they reside is in fact another living creature. By some categorizations, it would be considered the female of the species - it produces and to some extent nourishes the field of eggs, some of which mature to be gigantic network-chambers themselves. Whether this is an extreme example of sexual dimorphism, or the result of some sort of horizontal gene transfer is a matter of conjecture at this point.
This is the first look into this particular biome- hopefully with more to come. All creatures depicted have a photosynthetic component to them - least of all the large plodding walkers, who rely most heavily on grazing for their energy intake. The creatures that resemble flowers are motile, but move less frequently. The long rope-like organism grows at a rapid pace to stake its claim over as much ground area as possible. The large round textures semi-spheres are not phased by this tactic, as they employ an electro-chemical defense over their outer surface to keep the strident ropes at bay.
Pelagic predator pen sketch. More on this soon.
The season's storms had taken their toll, opening up an organic cave in the otherwise sealed mountain canopy forest. Encouraged by the prospect of shelter from more incoming inclement weather, the dacia considers entering the dark, yet inviting refuge. The glittering biolights beckon, but this new environment is far stranger than anything it’s ever known.
An agile and fast herd-dwelling inhabitor of the open plains, this creature posesses no true jointed appendages. Its legs and periscope are comprised of rigid, yet flexible hydraulic tubes. Sensory organs are clustered on the top of its upward-pointing appendage to give maximum perspective even during more vulnerable moments like feeding.
A common site in these dry rocky areas is the Velumignus. Their immobile bases send tendrils deep underground in search of water, while the photosynthetic flattened upper portions can swivel to accommodate for light and wind direction. Reaching a height of over fifteen feet, these silent sun-catchers often serve as way-finding posts to creatures journeying through the High Desert.
Like a giant pink warship, the Rosy Frigate punctuates the endless sea of tendrils. It hosts a crew of disk-shaped ravenous eating-machines called orbics. It is the orbics’ duty to keep the creeping tendrils from strangling and overtaking their home. Fading daylight signals their departure from the safe cluster beneath their giant companion to begin the night’s work of clearing new growth in the near vicinity. Each orbic can consume half its body weight in tube-carpet flesh every night, ensuring they will always have a place to return to at dawn. A Dwarf Blue Cortina observes the melee in confusion. Anything larger than an orbic will send it leaping away for cover, as its curiosity is matched only by its caution. The stoic quartet of Reponos standing solemnly in the background is incapable of seeing or hearing the events taking place nearby. Their role in this ecosystem turns out to be rather bizarre…
An entourage of opportunistic creatures accompanies the deep-sea behemoths during their brief ascent to the surface. Releasing their gelatinous strings of embryos here in the sunlight has a significant benefit - there's far more visibility. The swarm of followers are here in search of a quick meal in the form of the gelatin, which is full of valuable protiens and nutrients. After the feast however, the recipients of this apparent windfall become unwitting hosts for the behemoth's multitudinous offspring, which were embedded in the gel. Adapted to develop inside a wide variety of pelagic creatures, the young grow internally - and sometimes even on the surface of - their hosts until such time as they detach and sink back into the darkness. For most host species, this seems to be a mutually-beneficial symbiosis. At the beginning they receive a large and valuable meal, and usually incur very little detriment due to their temporary parasites. The young behemoths will hide in the dark depths for many years until attaining the size necessary to return to the light and repeat the ancient cycle again.
In my orange phase.
Out on the plains, a group of herders watches over its flock. At around 15 feet in height, the Magnavindix have flat tops, good for catching the sun’s rays to supplement their energy requirements through photosynthesis. The majority of their sustenance however, comes from the placid, defenseless Iumentus creatures they tend to. Imposing in stature and well armed, they play the role of defender, shepherd, and also matchmaker, bringing a pair of Iumentus together when their biolights signal readiness to breed. Indeed this symbiosis has grown so exclusive that the Magnavindix have evolved specialized appendages that are only useful in carrying the Iumentus. Having no concern for danger, the livestock are free to grow fat and slow as they wander the open plain, grazing on the expanse of the fibrous purple carpet creature that dominates this land. Other species benefit from this arrangement too. The shy Brush-faced Verecundas stay close to the herd as their giant guardians deter nearly all predators that would attempt to approach.