Circe

(#33669494)
Level 1 Skydancer
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Familiar

Cinnabar Plaguebringer
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style

Apparel

Ball Python
Tarnished Steel Gorget
Mourner's Skull
Brutal Banner
Skilled Bonecarver's Wings
Cleaver
Primal Claws
Black Linen Arm Wraps
Raven Woodtrail

Skin

Accent: Maleficence

Scene

Scene: Autumn Clearing

Measurements

Length
5.1 m
Wingspan
6.41 m
Weight
458 kg

Genetics

Primary Gene
Coal
Petals
Coal
Petals
Secondary Gene
Coal
Butterfly
Coal
Butterfly
Tertiary Gene
Caramel
Glimmer
Caramel
Glimmer

Hatchday

Hatchday
Jun 12, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Breed
Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Eye Type
Light
Common
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
Meditate
Contuse
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

  • none

Biography

33669494.png
   » circe xviii. the moon
═══════════════════
.
illusion · misunderstanding · insecurity
.
Antique Oil Lamp Brilliant Brass Torc
code by epher #101073
» ═════════════════ ═════════════════ «

Power is key. No one knows this better than Circe.

She isn't a child anymore. Not a lovestruck fool, or a naive, hopeful kid. She's better now- stronger, and some say colder. Circe isn't a pawn. She moves her own, now. The birds sing of her atrocity, of her loss, of her control, and no one seems to notice.

"Did you get what I need?" she asks her guardian coolly, hardly sparing a glance. She quietly feeds off the tension in the atmosphere.

"No. I tried, but I... I couldn't, not this time. Not yet, I'm sorry, I'll go agai-"

Her feathers fan out beside her horns. She's angry- Orion knows that, and that's the only cue the guardian needs. "Enough. It doesn't matter. You can leave." Her guardian departs.

Circe doesn't need to use violence. Her tongue speaks words of unrest and her scales seem to glare with her impatience, and that's all she needs to shape the mind of her mutt. Orion lives in fear of failure, and the charge takes full advantage. She uses what her guardian brings for spells behind the curtains and tells her nothing; the less she knows, the better. No, the less she knows, the more she surrenders.

She repeats her mantra when she senses doubt.

"I was chosen. You owe your life to me. It's your duty. I'm your charge."

Orion will obey, and Circe will give her a smile.


written by the goodest chimchom
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Exalting Circe to the service of the Lightweaver 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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