Pop
(#44710882)
Level 16 Coatl
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.45 m
Wingspan
8.23 m
Weight
948.75 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Crystal
Crystal
Obsidian
Facet
Facet
Purple
Circuit
Circuit
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 16 Coatl
EXP: 35750 / 71966
STR
5
AGI
5
DEF
5
QCK
30
INT
65
VIT
12
MND
5
Biography
2019 Gala Pageant Lore:
you walk into a smoky room, hoping you haven't been followed. it's hard enough to get the good stuff, nowadays, with it being illegal and whatnot.
you sit at the bar and order nectar, on the rocks (whatever that means). you hope the bartender doesn't notice how out of place you seem. he doesn't look at you weird, so you don't think he cares.
you're pondering what the attractiveness of places like this is when someone slides over to you. the figure is wearing a fedora, pulled low over their face, and a trench coat so long it almost covers the ground. you can feel them stare at you, even though you can't see their face.
"hey, buddy, someone left something for you," they say. you are confused. you didnt know you would be here--how would anyone else have known? "postdragon said it's from the icewarden."
you don't know what the icewarden would want with you, but you head outside, anyway. he's honestly kinda scary, and you really don't want to tick him off.
you step outside behind the mysterious figure, who starts unbuttoning their trenchcoat. you look away awkwardly, unsure of the proper social protocol in this situation. when the trench coat falls away, you see three fae perched on top of each other. the one on the top spreads her wings and flies off. that doesn't make the situation any less awkward, and you clear your throat in a futile attempt to dispel the tension.
the larger fae whistles, and a tundra steps from behind the dumpster, carrying an iron chest. the chest was probably useful at one point, but it now has to be held together with chains. there is ice breaking through the iron. you wonder what happened.
"the cold reclaims," reply all three dragons in front of you. you're pretty sure you didn't say the question out loud, but you don't really care. you wonder if your lair is okay while you're at the gala.
"use it well," the smaller fae whispers at you, and then all three dragons take off, leaving you with a frozen box covered in chains.
you pick it up, not wanting to upset the icewarden, and turn around to go back inside, but the smoky room is gone. shrugging, you take off to fly home.
artist: @TwentySeven
you walk into a smoky room, hoping you haven't been followed. it's hard enough to get the good stuff, nowadays, with it being illegal and whatnot.
you sit at the bar and order nectar, on the rocks (whatever that means). you hope the bartender doesn't notice how out of place you seem. he doesn't look at you weird, so you don't think he cares.
you're pondering what the attractiveness of places like this is when someone slides over to you. the figure is wearing a fedora, pulled low over their face, and a trench coat so long it almost covers the ground. you can feel them stare at you, even though you can't see their face.
"hey, buddy, someone left something for you," they say. you are confused. you didnt know you would be here--how would anyone else have known? "postdragon said it's from the icewarden."
you don't know what the icewarden would want with you, but you head outside, anyway. he's honestly kinda scary, and you really don't want to tick him off.
you step outside behind the mysterious figure, who starts unbuttoning their trenchcoat. you look away awkwardly, unsure of the proper social protocol in this situation. when the trench coat falls away, you see three fae perched on top of each other. the one on the top spreads her wings and flies off. that doesn't make the situation any less awkward, and you clear your throat in a futile attempt to dispel the tension.
the larger fae whistles, and a tundra steps from behind the dumpster, carrying an iron chest. the chest was probably useful at one point, but it now has to be held together with chains. there is ice breaking through the iron. you wonder what happened.
"the cold reclaims," reply all three dragons in front of you. you're pretty sure you didn't say the question out loud, but you don't really care. you wonder if your lair is okay while you're at the gala.
"use it well," the smaller fae whispers at you, and then all three dragons take off, leaving you with a frozen box covered in chains.
you pick it up, not wanting to upset the icewarden, and turn around to go back inside, but the smoky room is gone. shrugging, you take off to fly home.
artist: @TwentySeven
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Pop to the service of the Icewarden 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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