Delmar

Nobody knows what his deal is but it's probably not good. Not at all. He's unnatural good at sewing. Some say the lace on his body is actual lace. That he dripped the lace in the blood of those he's killed and then stitched it to his body. But those are just rumors. Rumors that Delmar doesn't like. At all...
Because they're true. When he was just a hatchling, his parents dressed him up as the Shade. But his costume melded to him in an interesting way. Wanting to take it off, he decided to go to a Magically powerful dragon and ask for advice. But such services cost money. Delmar learned to sew and began making doll's clothes. When the rumor got out that the dolls who wore his clothes killed their owners, he went in to investigate. It turned out that the rumors were true. He started sawing red lace onto all of this creations, in mourning for the dragons he had inadvertently caused the deaths of. But he soon realized that his clients were not pleased. So he sewed red lace onto himself. By this time, the shade costume had not only stuck to him, but it became his skin. So the only way for him to remove the costume would be if he ripped all of his scales off. He embraced this new darkness, and has taken on an entirely new character because of it. He now embodies darkness. But he still has a softer side. In a chest at the back of his living space there are many dolls. Small dolls, big dolls, animal dolls, and dragon dolls. He loves them. Like all things about him. the chest of dolls has a dangerous side as well. If needed, he can call on them to do his bidding. But he hasn't. Yet. (Written by zzzhorses) It was red. Always red. It started in his eyes and at the beginning that's all there was. In a crevasse contained in the Scarred Wasteland, they came peering out of the darkness. Slowly came his body to this plain, the first dragon to peer in was his father so he took his shape. Spiral scrawling upward from the dark hole, how those bright eyes came out. Still, a young babe to be held in his mother’s arms, but in Delmar, there was,s something ancient. His skin was that of the shadows that surrounded him, that gave birth and pushed him forth into his new parent's arms.

Throughout Delmar’s years as a hatchling, he kept his distance from the others. Instead, he resided watching his mother. A seamstress by trait, she taught him intricate stitches and how to get the most elusive of fabrics. Delmar decided to make dolls for the others. Ones of all shapes and sizes stuffed with cotton. He worked on many at once well into his adulthood passing them out to any dragon who requested, leaving one with his mother as he went forth to explore the outer edges of the world he had known.

Upon returning their lair seemed quite, unchanged from his leaving except the large festering growth of the plague. As Delmar entered a stench filled the air. Peering around the lair, he saw his mother laying on the ground. The plague already beginning to devour her. Her neck was slit with dread black blood fastening her to the ground. His father was nowhere to be seen. What lies on top of her was the doll, with a smirk he doesn’t remember sowing. Delmar had heard whispers of cursed crafts, but not until this had he known. Weeping over his mother’s body and his own began to break up. Being torn by the pain he had caused. He looked down to see his mother’s pool of blood had turned to a pile of glistening red lace.

Without thinking he took his needle and thread it, his hands dancing across his body pulling the string taut to hold it in place. When he looked up once more from his work, his tears had ceased. His mother’s body vanished and in the doorway were standing dolls smiling back at him. Since that day no one has been able to find all those dolls when asked Delmar responds with the same sinking smile. (By IgnisRose)