Ahuiateotl
(#24846713)
Level 2 Coatl
Familiar
Flamerest Fiendcat
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.48 m
Wingspan
6.87 m
Weight
874.23 kg
Genetics
Blood
Cherub
Cherub
Blood
Butterfly
Butterfly
Blood
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 2 Coatl
EXP: 215 / 641
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
Ahuiatéotl
Name Meaning: Aztec god of sensuality
Afflicted
Breeds with N/A
Name Meaning: Aztec god of sensuality
Afflicted
Breeds with N/A
Theme Song
Basics
Name: Ahuiateotl
Nicknames: Incubus
Preferred Name: Dante
Titles: Ringmaster
Gender: Male
S/O: Cis-Male Pansexual
Status:Polyamourous Open Relationships
Afflicted Symptoms:
- Melanistic
- Coughing/Vomiting Blood (unknown cause)
- Satyriasis (hypersexuality)
- Hypersensitivity to Light (causes excruciating pain)
- Amnesia
Nicknames: Incubus
Preferred Name: Dante
Titles: Ringmaster
Gender: Male
S/O: Cis-Male Pansexual
Status:Polyamourous Open Relationships
Afflicted Symptoms:
- Melanistic
- Coughing/Vomiting Blood (unknown cause)
- Satyriasis (hypersexuality)
- Hypersensitivity to Light (causes excruciating pain)
- Amnesia
Relations
Mate:
Close Friends:
Enemies:
Personality
Humorous | Lazy | Relaxed |
+ Ever since the cave, or maybe before that (he can't remember after all), Ahuiatéotl is touchy about keeping things clean. The bathhouse stays clean mostly on its own, somehow, but the dancer's pit where all the coatls reside is left to be cleaned by their own since they bar outsiders from entering. He doesn't get upset, per say, but he does have very dark moods which can lead to fights breaking out and noticeable tension in the air. His presence in the pit has made everyone habitually keep things clean, and he cleans when he's frustrated. He doesn't mind clutter, but actual germs or wetness can push him into a sheer panic.
+ Although it was called a circus troupe when it was more of a clan consisting of half entertainers and half of those devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, there were themes performances and his favorite were the circus ones. He has a whimsical taste and dramatic flair now that he hasn't been able to shake, and insists on mimicking those themes in his own performances for the bathhouse, if with his own twist of course. The colors are more dark and so is his sense of humor, but things that have a psychotic Alice in Wonderland way about them draw him in every time.
+ When he's excited or happy about something sometimes he can be a little boyish sounding. It's not as though he completely reverts to a younger self, but sometimes he's a more free with his emotions with a reckless childishness. Due to the sound of his voice being normally very rich and dark, it's especially highlighted when his voice takes on a lighter and more whimsical tone. He's also easier to make laugh. It also doesn't help that he gets happy and excited over really trivial and minuscule things.
+ When he's upset, or scared (though that's surprisingly rare, he has a pretty numb sense of fear, and yet a surprisingly healthy psyche considering what he's been through) he takes a while to come to terms with it himself let alone talk about it. He liked to work through it alone, but if he gets stuck he's not afraid to set it aside and worry about it later usually. And, he's not afraid to indulge in the company of his favorite borderline sociopath schizophrenic and the rest of their little occultist harem just like he's not afraid to be a source of support in return.
+ Although unfailingly loyal like one, Ahuiateotl is nobody's dog. The coatl thinks of himself more of a lone wolf who cooperates in a group, sometimes without, but usually with something in return (whether that's a kiss, kind words, more, or something else is usually up for haggling). He isn't at Kite's beck and call. Even though he would probably do as asked without something in return if it were a favor for Kite, he just finds the coatl endearing when he's forced to show his real emotions and seizes any opportunity to seduce him back.
+ He's voted most likely to tick the other off and be on the opposite end of his wrath for weeks because he rubs him the wrong way even more for enjoying it and the struggle for power (just because he has no intention of winning doesn't mean he doesn't find the mind games and the backstabbing entertaining, and he knows Kite enjoys being kept on his toes too). Guess he just has a sadistic/masochistic streak in him. The relationship between them almost always toes the line between a sensual dance and dirty fight.
Background
Ahuiatéotl’s case is one of missing identity.
If the sight wasn’t deterrent enough, the soupy viscera that sloshed across the floor and bled into his feathers came from the partially decomposed corpses was up close and personal. He could taste the smell it was so heavy in the vapid air, and the rocks just seemed to absorb the gore so when it was hot and humid the sour stench of vomit burned his eyes and nose. Scavengers grew bold enough to attack the weaker of them. Those who were doing better by comparison withered away without someone to bring food and water.
He woke to flies buzzing in his ears, and no idea where he was. Who he was. Why he was secluded to the corner of the cave furthest from the light crusted in blood and other unmentionable fluids.
It was a place where the dying were abandoned by nearby clans, and he was one of them. The Afflicted. That’s what he was told. He often heard from the nests with mothers and their rejected hatchlings only the quiet hiccups of breath and hushed whispers as she tried to calm them before they woke up the more delicate sleepers. The worst nights were when he didn’t hear them, maybe just a rustle as they curled in on themselves for lack of someone willing to hold them in her stead after she’d stopped moving. A sniff. A whimper. Eventually silence. Always, silence. Then a tension curling and uncurling in his gut like a sweaty fist that he was certain they all felt. Guilt. Fear. Apprehension. Nausea.
No one seemed to recognize him, nobody seemed to know when people arrived or left. He couldn’t stop shaking. Ahuiatéotl remembered being so, so cold. He had nothing but scraps of whatever he could find to pull around himself, curled into as tight a ball as he could manage
Ahuiateotl was dimly aware that he was dragging himself to the mouth of the cave, perhaps driven by the chance that he would be picked apart by vultures or dragged off by some other wild animal that would finally deliver him from here. He was aware of the light hurting his eyes more than should be normal for merely adjusting to the sun again. Spikes of pain driven into his skull, into his brain through his corneas. Ahuiateotl left a sloppy trail in his wake as he lurched out into dusty ground and collapsed. To his dismay he woke in the same place, sunburnt but stubbornly alive and untouched, so he dragged himself further and further. Mindlessly. Desperately. He clawed at the dry, cracked earth searching for death… and found refuge. An oasis in this ravaged landscape he had no resistance built against, and whether he liked it or not he had not the means nor the willpower to refuse the food, water, and shade from the elements. These so called gods he’d heard about must have been laughing at him.
Perhaps it was his blood borne in Light territory that called out to them. Ahuiateotl was found there by a troupe of traveling scholars accompanied from Light who chose to nurse him back to health. So he could pull his own weight they made him an apprentice once he was stable. Learning in their rigorous curriculum, and learning to preform with the entertainers, he learned he was skilled. He knew how to fight apparently, which made for an excellent dancer, though not in accordance to any one discipline he must have had a lot of practice along with natural talent. He knew magick instinctively too, so the healer took to trying to spark some memory by bringing him along as her bodyguard. The light denizens taught him musings about the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence. It was the first foothold he’d had in a long time in crafting a new identity for himself. He stayed with them, searching for what, he didn’t know, but traveling Sornieth restlessly to find it.
Ahuiateotl grew street-wise again, learned, settled in as his new self so he decided to part ways from the travelers from the beginning when they managed the funds to put down roots in a building. He began on his own as a traveling witch and a body guard for hire to acquire an honest living. He was happy, if troubled. First, his eyes. Some days he could get away with just not looking directly into any light. Others he had to lock himself up in a shed that didn’t let in any light, and blindfold himself to make the pain stop. Secondly, his uncontrollable desires to bed everyone he saw. Every night he wanted. More if he managed to find someone to satisfy him. It only got worse the more tolerant to his addiction he got, he made lots of enemies accidentally seducing those that were spoken for already. His mind craved knowledge, experience, and meaningful interactions while his body craved mates more than it ever had before. Because he could manage his eyes better out of the too dilemmas, he resigned to first finding a solution to his uncontrollable lust.
He found himself in Arcane eventually because besides Light, they were the most likely to have the answers he needed. This is where he met a virulent coatl who called himself “Hampnie Hambart” as though enjoying an inside joke when asked his name. Ahuiateotl couldn’t tell whether he made his heart skip out of fear, or because he found him painfully attractive; and whether or not he found him attractive because of his condition, or because the coatl was indeed a handsome specimen despite his broken body. He was eerie. Always under his cloak that obscured his features except for those red eyes. A touch malicious and darkly amused at the expense of someone else, a little too calm, probably fell off the deep end and went insane ages ago.
By all the logic and the laws of what’s physically possible for a dragon to keep taxing his body without it finally giving out on him, Kite shouldn’t have been alive, but maybe he didn’t know that, so he keeps moving and influencing the world around him anyway. It was creepy as hell, but also inspiring. For some reason, despite knowing he was mostly self-serving and his only loyalty was to his beloved deity, he was a comforting presence to those like him that couldn’t deny his irresistible pull. He gave Ahuiateotl everything he needed; endless opportunities to satisfy his libido, people that genuinely cared for him (some that even understood what it was like to be sick), and a cause to be loyal to, room to be independent—to come and go as he pleased, be tied down or as much a home body as he wants whenever he wants.
Morbid curiosity became trust, trust became respect, respect became fondness, fondness became affection, affection evolved into adoration, and before he knew it he realized Kite had him on a leash and he’d rather be nowhere else. Although he knew perfectly well he was being taken advantage of because he had the same virus and it didn’t matter if he wanted to actively spread it, he wanted—needed sex which made spreading it consequential, but he didn't care. He didn't know if it was love or just physical, but he began meeting Kite for more than an exchange of favors. Being around him became more habit than choice. Kite Astin was the reaper Ahuiateotl had been searching for when he’d crawled from that cave and hadn’t figured out how to stop searching for since.
Nowadays, he focuses his body guard efforts on keeping Kite from getting killed, and his skills as a witch for making the Nosos virus more manageable (among other things) using blood magick (among many other practices). He’s settled, but gets into more than his fair share of trouble and pursues random individual curiosities (what can he say, Arcane’s rubbed off on him) and muses about philosophy (though keeps it mainly to himself). Since Kite, he’s foraged intimate relationships with much of his harem that vary from “friends with benefits” to strictly romantic cuddle buddies and is considered an honorary member himself. He's still trying to remember anything else that might give him a lead to finding his old identity.
Human/oid Notes:
- Dark, dark red hair long enough to play with, usually more on the unkempt side like a mane or like he just rolled out of bed (and probably did or something like it given his little "bad habit" of charming people of of their pants) with a long portion at the base of his neck (like Kiyokazu Fujimoto).
- All lean, well trained muscle and snake-like grace.
- Intimidating due to how he dresses, but almost with a dark whimsical undertone leftover from his circus days and witch aesthetic.
- Moves and carries himself lazily, can be perfectly still. People think they have forever to move, but they never do because he strikes fast like a cobra.
Mate:
Close Friends:
Enemies:
Personality
Humorous | Lazy | Relaxed |
+ Ever since the cave, or maybe before that (he can't remember after all), Ahuiatéotl is touchy about keeping things clean. The bathhouse stays clean mostly on its own, somehow, but the dancer's pit where all the coatls reside is left to be cleaned by their own since they bar outsiders from entering. He doesn't get upset, per say, but he does have very dark moods which can lead to fights breaking out and noticeable tension in the air. His presence in the pit has made everyone habitually keep things clean, and he cleans when he's frustrated. He doesn't mind clutter, but actual germs or wetness can push him into a sheer panic.
+ Although it was called a circus troupe when it was more of a clan consisting of half entertainers and half of those devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, there were themes performances and his favorite were the circus ones. He has a whimsical taste and dramatic flair now that he hasn't been able to shake, and insists on mimicking those themes in his own performances for the bathhouse, if with his own twist of course. The colors are more dark and so is his sense of humor, but things that have a psychotic Alice in Wonderland way about them draw him in every time.
+ When he's excited or happy about something sometimes he can be a little boyish sounding. It's not as though he completely reverts to a younger self, but sometimes he's a more free with his emotions with a reckless childishness. Due to the sound of his voice being normally very rich and dark, it's especially highlighted when his voice takes on a lighter and more whimsical tone. He's also easier to make laugh. It also doesn't help that he gets happy and excited over really trivial and minuscule things.
+ When he's upset, or scared (though that's surprisingly rare, he has a pretty numb sense of fear, and yet a surprisingly healthy psyche considering what he's been through) he takes a while to come to terms with it himself let alone talk about it. He liked to work through it alone, but if he gets stuck he's not afraid to set it aside and worry about it later usually. And, he's not afraid to indulge in the company of his favorite borderline sociopath schizophrenic and the rest of their little occultist harem just like he's not afraid to be a source of support in return.
+ Although unfailingly loyal like one, Ahuiateotl is nobody's dog. The coatl thinks of himself more of a lone wolf who cooperates in a group, sometimes without, but usually with something in return (whether that's a kiss, kind words, more, or something else is usually up for haggling). He isn't at Kite's beck and call. Even though he would probably do as asked without something in return if it were a favor for Kite, he just finds the coatl endearing when he's forced to show his real emotions and seizes any opportunity to seduce him back.
+ He's voted most likely to tick the other off and be on the opposite end of his wrath for weeks because he rubs him the wrong way even more for enjoying it and the struggle for power (just because he has no intention of winning doesn't mean he doesn't find the mind games and the backstabbing entertaining, and he knows Kite enjoys being kept on his toes too). Guess he just has a sadistic/masochistic streak in him. The relationship between them almost always toes the line between a sensual dance and dirty fight.
Background
Ahuiatéotl’s case is one of missing identity.
If the sight wasn’t deterrent enough, the soupy viscera that sloshed across the floor and bled into his feathers came from the partially decomposed corpses was up close and personal. He could taste the smell it was so heavy in the vapid air, and the rocks just seemed to absorb the gore so when it was hot and humid the sour stench of vomit burned his eyes and nose. Scavengers grew bold enough to attack the weaker of them. Those who were doing better by comparison withered away without someone to bring food and water.
He woke to flies buzzing in his ears, and no idea where he was. Who he was. Why he was secluded to the corner of the cave furthest from the light crusted in blood and other unmentionable fluids.
It was a place where the dying were abandoned by nearby clans, and he was one of them. The Afflicted. That’s what he was told. He often heard from the nests with mothers and their rejected hatchlings only the quiet hiccups of breath and hushed whispers as she tried to calm them before they woke up the more delicate sleepers. The worst nights were when he didn’t hear them, maybe just a rustle as they curled in on themselves for lack of someone willing to hold them in her stead after she’d stopped moving. A sniff. A whimper. Eventually silence. Always, silence. Then a tension curling and uncurling in his gut like a sweaty fist that he was certain they all felt. Guilt. Fear. Apprehension. Nausea.
No one seemed to recognize him, nobody seemed to know when people arrived or left. He couldn’t stop shaking. Ahuiatéotl remembered being so, so cold. He had nothing but scraps of whatever he could find to pull around himself, curled into as tight a ball as he could manage
Ahuiateotl was dimly aware that he was dragging himself to the mouth of the cave, perhaps driven by the chance that he would be picked apart by vultures or dragged off by some other wild animal that would finally deliver him from here. He was aware of the light hurting his eyes more than should be normal for merely adjusting to the sun again. Spikes of pain driven into his skull, into his brain through his corneas. Ahuiateotl left a sloppy trail in his wake as he lurched out into dusty ground and collapsed. To his dismay he woke in the same place, sunburnt but stubbornly alive and untouched, so he dragged himself further and further. Mindlessly. Desperately. He clawed at the dry, cracked earth searching for death… and found refuge. An oasis in this ravaged landscape he had no resistance built against, and whether he liked it or not he had not the means nor the willpower to refuse the food, water, and shade from the elements. These so called gods he’d heard about must have been laughing at him.
Perhaps it was his blood borne in Light territory that called out to them. Ahuiateotl was found there by a troupe of traveling scholars accompanied from Light who chose to nurse him back to health. So he could pull his own weight they made him an apprentice once he was stable. Learning in their rigorous curriculum, and learning to preform with the entertainers, he learned he was skilled. He knew how to fight apparently, which made for an excellent dancer, though not in accordance to any one discipline he must have had a lot of practice along with natural talent. He knew magick instinctively too, so the healer took to trying to spark some memory by bringing him along as her bodyguard. The light denizens taught him musings about the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence. It was the first foothold he’d had in a long time in crafting a new identity for himself. He stayed with them, searching for what, he didn’t know, but traveling Sornieth restlessly to find it.
Ahuiateotl grew street-wise again, learned, settled in as his new self so he decided to part ways from the travelers from the beginning when they managed the funds to put down roots in a building. He began on his own as a traveling witch and a body guard for hire to acquire an honest living. He was happy, if troubled. First, his eyes. Some days he could get away with just not looking directly into any light. Others he had to lock himself up in a shed that didn’t let in any light, and blindfold himself to make the pain stop. Secondly, his uncontrollable desires to bed everyone he saw. Every night he wanted. More if he managed to find someone to satisfy him. It only got worse the more tolerant to his addiction he got, he made lots of enemies accidentally seducing those that were spoken for already. His mind craved knowledge, experience, and meaningful interactions while his body craved mates more than it ever had before. Because he could manage his eyes better out of the too dilemmas, he resigned to first finding a solution to his uncontrollable lust.
He found himself in Arcane eventually because besides Light, they were the most likely to have the answers he needed. This is where he met a virulent coatl who called himself “Hampnie Hambart” as though enjoying an inside joke when asked his name. Ahuiateotl couldn’t tell whether he made his heart skip out of fear, or because he found him painfully attractive; and whether or not he found him attractive because of his condition, or because the coatl was indeed a handsome specimen despite his broken body. He was eerie. Always under his cloak that obscured his features except for those red eyes. A touch malicious and darkly amused at the expense of someone else, a little too calm, probably fell off the deep end and went insane ages ago.
By all the logic and the laws of what’s physically possible for a dragon to keep taxing his body without it finally giving out on him, Kite shouldn’t have been alive, but maybe he didn’t know that, so he keeps moving and influencing the world around him anyway. It was creepy as hell, but also inspiring. For some reason, despite knowing he was mostly self-serving and his only loyalty was to his beloved deity, he was a comforting presence to those like him that couldn’t deny his irresistible pull. He gave Ahuiateotl everything he needed; endless opportunities to satisfy his libido, people that genuinely cared for him (some that even understood what it was like to be sick), and a cause to be loyal to, room to be independent—to come and go as he pleased, be tied down or as much a home body as he wants whenever he wants.
Morbid curiosity became trust, trust became respect, respect became fondness, fondness became affection, affection evolved into adoration, and before he knew it he realized Kite had him on a leash and he’d rather be nowhere else. Although he knew perfectly well he was being taken advantage of because he had the same virus and it didn’t matter if he wanted to actively spread it, he wanted—needed sex which made spreading it consequential, but he didn't care. He didn't know if it was love or just physical, but he began meeting Kite for more than an exchange of favors. Being around him became more habit than choice. Kite Astin was the reaper Ahuiateotl had been searching for when he’d crawled from that cave and hadn’t figured out how to stop searching for since.
Nowadays, he focuses his body guard efforts on keeping Kite from getting killed, and his skills as a witch for making the Nosos virus more manageable (among other things) using blood magick (among many other practices). He’s settled, but gets into more than his fair share of trouble and pursues random individual curiosities (what can he say, Arcane’s rubbed off on him) and muses about philosophy (though keeps it mainly to himself). Since Kite, he’s foraged intimate relationships with much of his harem that vary from “friends with benefits” to strictly romantic cuddle buddies and is considered an honorary member himself. He's still trying to remember anything else that might give him a lead to finding his old identity.
Human/oid Notes:
- Dark, dark red hair long enough to play with, usually more on the unkempt side like a mane or like he just rolled out of bed (and probably did or something like it given his little "bad habit" of charming people of of their pants) with a long portion at the base of his neck (like Kiyokazu Fujimoto).
- All lean, well trained muscle and snake-like grace.
- Intimidating due to how he dresses, but almost with a dark whimsical undertone leftover from his circus days and witch aesthetic.
- Moves and carries himself lazily, can be perfectly still. People think they have forever to move, but they never do because he strikes fast like a cobra.
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Exalting Ahuiateotl to the service of the Arcanist will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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