Dragon Lair Nesting Grounds Gather Items Clan Profile Hoard Messages Marketplace Auction House Trading Post Crossroads Custom Skins Fairgrounds Coliseum Dominance Forums World Map Search Dressing Room Scrying Workshop Encyclopedia Media Support
kurohahaha: Dragon Lair » Finn
Finn
#28435977
Info
Level 1
Pearlcatcher Male
Hatchday
Nov 11, 2016 (1 year)
Stats Growth
Length
6.97M
Wingspan
5.22M
Weight
696.11KG
Genes
PrimaryPeriwinkle Crystal
SecondaryIris Butterfly
TertiaryIce Gembond
Energy: 48 / 50
Apparel & Skins
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
none
Familiar
Information
dragon?age=1&body=135&bodygene=15&breed=4&element=6&gender=0&tert=3&tertgene=17&winggene=13&wings=82&auth=611aeab9e6740ca05d4d9078d059e1ef29fe5dfa&dummyext=prev.png
Finn
'ice child'
tumblr_o1zrsv44JN1ufdm5xo1_400.png
"Spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams
Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams
I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind
Alone in the wind and the rain you left me
It's getting dark darling, too dark to see
And I'm on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems
"


Russia had taken a gamble by mobilizing its test nukes, moving them from one corner of the country to the other, heads aimed at ‘problems’ while the whole world held its breath. They’d been launched, taking everyone by surprise but had been stopped by some ancient power of winter, bomb frozen mere inches from the ground. War had been announced, but decreasing temperatures across the globe sent humanity into hiding and struggled to survive - they’d soon found magic and all of its curses, though the short life span cut the excitement short, the necessity of continued existence proving more important. Survive they did, and civilization regrew from the ice covered ashes.

Finn had been born centuries afterwards, during rising tensions with humanity, magic denied once more in a futile struggle to return to Old World views (”they were the safest - revenge was needed”) and he’d been happy, blissful. After losing his arm though, age had given him wisdom and insight into just what was going on. History had been lost - REWRITTEN - and the cold war that killed millions threatened to turn hot. Propaganda surrounded him - everyone was a spy! He grew up anxious while his unwavering ‘love’ of the country choked in his throat, the introductory classes into the russian language “just in case” taught him the basics, but the war started to grow warm once more.

It had been an announcement that test nukes were being moved - the country had been sent into a panic - though it turned out to be a power move, governments flexing their muscles; the US and Russia had reached a temporary climax of assured destruction as each country pointed warheads towards one-another (”all someone needed to do was throw a rock as a game and all hell would break loose”).

And break loose it did, though not in a fight of two, but a panic of one scared kid. A long lost relic found and worn, storms swirling into existence while lightning solidified into shards of ice - the ground shook and the frozen warhead trembled then SPLIT. The instantaneous destruction almost incinerated the child, but he protected himself - the need to protect his family grew and twisted in his mind, a monstrosity of confusion and madness - all of his paranoia broke and snapped and he rose, a monster.

He truly was a product of his surroundings, of the fears, of SHEER POWER and it was all far too much. All at once, too sudden, painful, violent; he wasn’t real he felt, he felt, he didn’t - who was he what was he where who - fear,fear, fear, FEAR - it was cold. All he could hear were sirens and thunder, the smell of cinder overpowering, the taste of ash, copper, on his tongue. HE DEMANDED SILENCE AND SILENCE DID COME, eyes opening to a wasteland of ice that battled with the rot and decay of fallout.

There was the ever lingering thought of “take cover”, “hide”, “save yourself” that droned in his mind quietly, but he ignored it all. He felt fine. Better, even. He was still in shock, denial, shock (but at least his family was safe) he believed he vowed he screamed for them to be safe, never once believing in the truth that they too had grown sick and died. The swarm of green, of virile fluid bubbling and CLAWING at the soil (friend, best friend, dead, consumed - SAVE HIM) he panicked.

And there he was - God - standing before him, a hand outstretched, offering, offered, bleeding, unwavering “TRUST” in God (the pledge the pledge the pledge you failed Him you failed your country how could you you monster). He cried out, he was no Cain, but He didn’t listen - God spoke and he OBEYED.

It was all a blur, flashes of red and gold and white, he did not think; when he awoke (would he awaken?) he wasn’t sure; the lights were far too bright but he recognized himself, mirrored but cleaner, better, a thief - NO, safe. God was a liar. A demon. A wolf in monstrous clothing, but he would be safe now, alone once more - he felt none of this was real, could be real. No. He just needed to wake up again.

And wake up he did, alone and cold. This was to be his home now, a prison of ice and snow, monsters lurking, friendships scarce. The ruins of a country, of a world poisoned forever, the sun a white dot while thick clouds rolled overhead and unknown deities twisted and churned along underfoot. All memories of humanity erased, save for the sights of ruins, buildings, and skeletons picked clean and bleached by the stars; he began to think of himself as a GOD.


tumblr_inline_nzqu14SAET1tgh8q0_400.png
INVENTORY







 
© 2013 - 2017 Stormlight Workshop. All Rights Reserved
Terms of Use | Rules and Guidelines | Code of Conduct | Privacy Policy | Employment Opportunities | Credits | Support