
Aurora Ice
The frozen north cap. Green auroras hum over ice so cold the goo crunches.
The lore
Far past the last mapped star lies a planet with no name, only a smell. Its whole crust is one swamp, pocked with thousands of craters, and every crater glows with a puddle of living goo.
The goo churns for years, warmed by something deep under the crust. Then one night a crater swells, bubbles, burps, and pushes out a little shape covered in slime. That's an Oozling. Each one carries a bit of its puddle forever: the color of its sky, the junk it found at the bottom, the tiny critter that crawled out alongside it.
Nobody has found the bottom of the Pits. The Oozlings won't say.
Every Oozling's background is the corner of the planet it crawled out of.

The frozen north cap. Green auroras hum over ice so cold the goo crunches.

Warm turquoise shallows under a yellow sky. Little islands drift on the slime.

Glowing caps the size of houses. The spores glitter when something crawls past.

Nobody remembers who built the towers. The puddles in the streets still glow pink and green.

Sticky pink rivers, lollipop trees and a sugar smell that never goes away.

An old reef that still lights up after dark. Jellies drift where the sea used to be.

A lime-green lake that fizzes under an orange sky. Swimming is not advised.

A pink cave that seems to breathe. Toxic goo drips from the ceiling.

Rusty crashed ships half buried in orange dust, and plenty of spare parts.

Black rock, a red sky and rivers of lava feeding the hottest puddles on the planet.

Dunes, giant toadstools and a big pink moon hanging low over the sand.

The far south, where the ground turns glassy and reflects the stars.
Every Oozling crawls out either Classic or Mutated. Mutated ones soaked too long in the radioactive drizzle that falls over the Pits. Same species, stranger glow.
8,570 Classic · 1,430 Mutated