Athexreh » Hibernal Den » Satax

Satax

(#15333062)

Level 25 Skydancer

Familiar

Basic Hippalectryon

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.83 m

Wingspan

6.68 m

Weight

755.52 kg

Genetics

White
Iridescent

Fire
Shimmer

Tangerine
Gembond

Hatchday

Jul 26, 2015
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Nature
Common

Level 25 Skydancer

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

Biography

Satax The Brawler

Pepper | Guard | Warrior | Bounty Hunter

Team:

Trammel

Dirge

Laius

Security:

Satax

Sero

Rsyn

Maintinance:

Dolce

Retura

Hydrogen

???

Kaho

Diminuendo

Shift

Quote:

We really need to revise the dress code. Have you noticed no one even wears pants around here?

Quote:

You're supposed to be scientists... put on a shirt for goodness sake.

Satax frowned as he inspected the lab. One of the overhead lights flickered, the shifting light threatening a headache. There were three uncovered microscopes, two of them manned by people he’d never seen before.

And none of them were following protocol.

He shot Trammel a pointed glare, the larger dragon oblivious to- or choosing to ignore- the hostile look he was receiving. As usual. The darker dragon was supposed to be in charge- was supposed to be the leader- and he was the worst one there.

“Why isn’t anyone wearing pants?”

There was a beat of silence before all eyes turned on him.

“C’mon, really?” Dirge called out, the fuzzy dragon shooting him an incredulous look. “Most of us are toting around twenty pounds of fur. Do you have any idea how stifling pants are on top of that?”

“You’re supposed to be professionals,” Satax shot back, claws absentmindedly straightening his uniform. “If no one’s even going to follow the dress code why did you have me even write it out?”

“For principle?” Trammel offered, an amused smirk spreading across his face.

“Don’t you start,” Satax growled out, jabbing a finger in the direction of the larger dragon.

Trammel lifted an eyebrow, his extra limbs wiggling in a pointed, faux cheerfulness. “You pay for the tailoring and then we’ll talk.”

Satax had never wanted to punch the darker dragon more than he did in that moment. He settled for a heated frown. “Do you want another incident?”

At that, both dragons managed to look suitably sheepish, though Trammel still seemed mostly unperturbed. The way Dirge in particular was looking at the wildclaw- a mixture of barely concealed worry mixed in with an overly tense pressure- had Satax questioning whether he should have stayed quiet.

The pale tundra padded forward. “Boss-”

“That. Was an unfortunate accident,” Trammel interrupted, voice carrying a sharper edge than his expression portrayed.

Dirge shot Satax a positively accusatory, withering glare.

And at that Satax definitely wished he kept his mouth shut. None of them were entirely sure what had happened to cause the failure, but faulty hardware was the most likely culprit. Trammel had been caught in the middle of the meltdown along with his original team. Out of the twenty, only three had made it back out. And none of them were in one piece.

Laius had lost the lower half of his body. Frika ended up with an amputated wing and a punctured lung. And Trammel… well he had a slew of problems Satax couldn’t even begin to guess at. Not including the extra limbs that no one was able to begin to explain. As well as... best not to delve down that train of thoughts.

Satax had never before feared for his safety, but the hostility leveled his way had him taking a few steps back from the suddenly far more intimidating dragon. The extra limbs distorting his figure were held at odd angles and nearly seemed to undulate with their own aura.

“That it was,” he agreed, head bobbing in careful agreement, “Tragic.”

Trammel stilled for a long moment, eyes hazy. With a sigh he gingerly picked his clipboard, claws tapping at the warped plastic. “Yes. Well..” he trailed off.

“Unless there’s anything else,” Dirge spoke up, leveling a flat glare at the audience around them, “I think we’ve all got something to do, hmm?”

There were a half dozen muttered replies before the small group dispersed. Only the hum of electricity and the distant ticking of the clock were left behind. Against the stark whiteness of the walls, Trammel stood out in a harsh contrast. He looked far smaller than his normally imposing self and more than a little lost.

Dirge nudged Satax' side, gesturing to the dark dragon. “Howzabout you leave the complaints in the complaint box next time.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“How about you follow policy next time,” he grumbled back, his normal scorn notably absent.

Dirge pretended to consider it, an easy smirk on his face. “Hmmm... naah. Oh,” his expression darkened, sharp teeth gleaming in the light, “there’s no need to mention this to the Director, is there?”

“If it ain’t a security risk, it ain’t my problem. It’s... not a risk is it?”

Dirge only grinned, an unreadable light gleaming in his eyes.

You’re a determined kid, aren’t you?

You know for a fact that this corridor is strictly off limits. I’ve told you at least twice. Today. You’re not allowed in. So if you could… ya’ know? stop, that’d be just grand. It’d save us both a lot of time that we could be using literally anywhere else.

Unless… this is all a clever ruse to try to spend more time with me. If that was the case, I do commend your effort. Although, all you had to do was ask. I’ve got half a warehouse full of beakers and goggles that need sorting and about twice as many coats that need repairs. If you needle little attention, you should have said. We can get reel acquainted with some menial labor and manage something productive as well. Wouldn’t that be grand.

Oh knock it off. Ain’t nothing personal, kid.

Of course there’s a reason. These locks are expensive; we’re not going to put them up just for fun. And no. You don’t have the clearance to hear that either. Seriously. Drop it. Who even-

Oh. Of course. Is that what he told you?

Listen. One thing you gotta know about Sero: he lies. About everything. Why? I couldn’t tell you. Probably thought it’d be real funny. Better an interesting story than the truth, right? Better a joke than what’s actually back there. Tell me. Do you have any idea what melting fur smells like? Have you ever seen scales get so hot that they all fuse together and drip off like candle wax? I should hope not. Not much of a funny story now is it?

There are ghosts behind those doors.

Not the bedsheets and rattling chain kind, although you won’t have to look too far to find those. The real kind. The ‘watching everything you know burn away while you’re helpless to stop it’ kind. The unfulfilled dream and hopeless despair and ashy, broken promise kind. It’s in the air, that lingering, penetrating stench of burning. And blind terror. It’s soaked into the walls. Cemented in the mortar. Seeping in through the cracks. Festering in the waiting silence.

I was there. I saw what was left. Saw spacetime shattering into a thousand fractals and calcifying into… stars knows what. Stretching on forever. Beyond comprehension. A hundred voices, a thousand fingers clawing at the air. Warped machines twitched as smoke and oil bled from their shattered husks. There were so many piles of oozing, melting… those were scales. Blackened and shiney and gleaming like oil. Far too cold to touch. Burning the air around them. Freezing and melting burning into nothing. Oil and blood and all of spacetime beeding- dying- together. Impossible to distinguish.

I didn’t realize- how could I? I thought they’d all gotten out. That it was all a trick of the light. I prayed they’d gotten out. Prayed to anyone that would listen. But there is no god here. Not for us. Not anymore. Only a thousand demons of our own making. They wouldn’t listen to us, either. Only laugh at our own hubris. At our own stupidity. Stars I wish they’d died instead. That would have been a far kinder fate. They were reaching out. With paws cooked so thoroughly that it was just ash crumbling under their own weight. I didn’t see then because I didn’t want to see. Who could have wanted that? Hollow gurgles that bubbled up and popped with hissing, disjointed agony.

I didn’t know…

But I knew. Somewhere, somehow I knew. I couldn’t see my own hands melting as I grabbed handfuls of… there was so much… Everything was wrong. I didn’t feel the burn even as my hands melted plop plop onto the floor. Oily slick. Reflecting back my own empty eyes. I could fix it.

I could FiX it.

i DID fiX it

YoU wAnnA KnOw HoW i PiecED ThEm BaCk TogEtHeR?

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Exalting Satax 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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