Eulogy » Hibernal Den » Otwo

Otwo

(#46273429)

We must all disappear one day. Life isn't a big deal.

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.37 m

Wingspan

2.89 m

Weight

257.87 kg

Genetics

Sunset
Wasp

Cyan
Bee

Mint
Glimmer

Hatchday

Oct 24, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Tundra

Eye Type

Lightning
Goat

Level 1 Tundra

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Lazy
Rooster

Offspring

none

Biography

Loafer
O T W O
{ oh - two }
Nickname: The Observant
x. the second of twelve

• came back from the
Flamecaller, a ghost
of himself

(song)
by (artist)

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STATS

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RELATIONSHIPS

NAME
Relationship
Lorem ipsum gime is cool, consectetur adipiscing elit.

NAME
Relationship
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

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INVENTORY

~ lore ~
written by Disillusionist

Your clanmate is upset. You can't really see why. He showed you a bouquet of flowers; now he's screaming at you, something about a gift for his mother. It takes a pair of Guardians to hold him back, and they stare at you in disbelief. You lift up the last flower and put it in your mouth. Mother or none, it would have ended up in the trash eventually. In this case, however, it was delicious.

You turn too quickly, and your wing snags on the canvas. It leaves a great, gaping tear. A diagonal scar bisecting the landscape, separating the mountains from the grass.
The curator approaches you, face contorted in a scowl. The words "compensation" and "apology" are thrown around. You tell her that the colors of the paint would have faded away in time. The canvas rotted and then discarded. The painting itself forgotten, unmemorable, even the landscape it depicted swallowed up by the earth and sea.

The old shopkeeper asks you to watch his store -- only for an hour, he won't be long. You agree and sit. You watch the world go by. Clouds go by. Children go by. A pair of armed dragons go by, and then pause. They double back. Into the shop they go, and then they stride boldly out with goods clutched in their arms or slung into pouches along their sides. They leave no money behind. That is only right. No one ever leaves anything behind. They ignore you. That is right as well, for you were never here.
The shopkeeper is in tears when he returns. You tell him you were never here, but he is inconsolable. The shop is his life's work. His livelihood. He's poured years of labor into it. You tell him his livelihood doesn't matter. The work he did here didn't matter. The years he sank into his business never mattered. They will vanish more quickly than stolen goods once he dies.

You step onto the blanket. As you walk across it, you leave your marks behind. Footprints disappearing into the grass, disappearing, just like everything else. The dragons around you want to know why you've ruined their blanket. They ask why you've intruded upon their picnic. You tell them that they ruined the blanket before you ever arrived, dirtying it by laying it upon the grass. They try to argue with you. They always do, but their words are fleeting and cannot hurt you. And then the birds pass overhead. You see their shadows on the checkered cloth, their wings briefly embracing your footprints. Fluttering feathers slipping like fingers into your mind. Shrieks and caws stabbing into your ears. Your gaze is pulled back to the rest of the world. Rage, hot and searing, wells up inside you, and you scream.

You saw the face of your god.
You absolutely did, and it's neither a figure of speech nor an exaggeration. You spent weeks in the presence of your deity, bathed in that elemental glow. They spoke to you, talked with you. They told you that you had to go back. The only explanation is that you have died. Now you wander the world as a restless spirit, contemplating the impermanence of everything left behind. There is no reason to comment on your clanmates' sidelong stares, for they always quickly look away. No reason to comment on their whispers, for they stop as soon as you're near.
They talk to the gods, some literally, and some figuratively, praying in the privacy of the night. They ask the gods to take you away for good.

Credits & Notes:
Coding and stat bars: Disillusionist | Vista BGs: Hazeledpoppy's FR blog | Theme song image: Diamondsuits

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0/1000

Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Otwo to the service of the Flamecaller 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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