Slaytheist » Lair » REDACTED

REDACTED

(#36381335)

He/They - Level 8

Familiar

Reserved Jeweler

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.13 m

Wingspan

6.82 m

Weight

1022.81 kg

Genetics

Black
Cherub

Black
Seraph

White
Circuit

Hatchday

Oct 04, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Coatl

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 8 Coatl

EXP: 478 / 16009

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

R E D A C T E D ╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾

No one ever saw him fully. The general consensus was that he was an old maid's tale. Many saw him in their peripherals late at night, especially when traveling through the more abandoned parts of the town. Others saw him among the crowds of towns people, but when they realized something was off suddenly he vanished. At every funeral at least one attendee sword through their bloodshot eyes that they saw a mourner in the distance that never moved, never cried, and never stuck around after the burial.
He was as much of a cryptid as one could be; but in reality he was simply a terminally ill coatl with nothing left to lose.
He stalked the town at night freely. He knew his very presence would scare all the youngsters into hiding in their houses. This was fine with him anyways, he didn't enjoy stealing the life from children.
He trotted along silently, his long mane dragging through the dirt below him. He made this route every night. Start at the woods, end at the field in the center of the town. Carefully watch every house to see if there was a change. Stop at every door and listen closely. Listen for the vibrations of a sick lung. The rasping of an ill soul both saddened and delighted him.
The moon was especially dark that night. The only light he could see by was the glow of his own flowers. These flowers had earned Lana a pardon from his hunt. She planted them specially for him after finding him blindly crashing through the woods shortly after his Accident. Their soft glow would never leave as long as he was alive, as she had somehow figured out how to plant him directly into his soul.
He stopped at a house towards the end of the road. The house belonged to a newcomer that he had been observing for a while. This fellow coatl was much like himself; colors muted and dull, and their breathing had the same low rasp that his did. He knew this dragon didn't have much time left.
Waiting for a dragon to die and using his own dark magic to steal whatever shreds of life they had left didn't get easier after the first time. Or the fiftieth. Or the hundredth. This time was no different.
He walked up the stairs of the small house. Each board creaked underneath him. He followed the balcony around to the side of the house, where a cracked window sat ajar. He pressed his ear up to the window and listened for vibrations. Sure enough, the other coatl was fast asleep. The rasping deep in their throat grew longer and more drawn out when they were asleep. He knew this from his observations.
He slowly pulled off his hood. The scars from his Accident began to burn. His concentration was briefly broke as he struggled not to cry out from the searing pain. Normally his cries were on a different vibration that other dragons couldn't hear, but he had to be especially careful to be silent with this dragon seeing as they were one of the only ones that could hear him.
The scars ran deep. Too deep for any dragon to survive. Every time he fed, he was reminded of that Accident. His own parents, tearing him to shreds. Chasing him out. He was a bad omen. Born completely black and white with not a drop of color anywhere on him. He managed to escape, but not without these scars. His body was ridden with them under his clothes. If it weren't for Lana finding him, he wouldn't be here right now.
She had patched him up to the best of her ability. The florist had some hidden talents; one of them being that she was a sharp mechanist. She twisted his flesh and bones into that of a machine. His body was half him, half whatever spare parts Lana could find. She offered to switch his pelt out with a synthetic one so he could be bright and be respected as a real coatl, but he politely denied.
He knew he was a monster now. Lana never told him outright, but he knew that she knew what he had to do to live.
Bringing his concentration back to the present, he took in a deep breath. Plunging his claws into the painful scars, he drew out a cloud of silver smoke. The smoke bled through the gashes left by his parents and curled into a ball hovering in his hand.
He extended his arm, and the smoke dissipated into more of a fog that began to fill up the room the unidentified coatl lay in. The haze was thick, and hard to breathe in. The coatl began to breathe heavier and the rasping grew louder. Soon, rasping became a sputtering cough. And then as quickly as it began, the rasping ceased completely.
The fog flashed a brilliant like and shot back into the lashes on his body. He cried out in shock, pain, joy, and relief. Falling back, he heard rustling in the house next door. He quickly scampered away, his body rejuvenated with the life the other coatl had given him.
He ran to the field, panting hard with tears streaming down his face. Collapsing in the center, he broke into a full on sob. His hysterics rang out through the night. Most of the cries couldn't be heard, but the lowest ones were in the range of other dragons. Everyone that heard these wails felt their blood run cold. This was the sound of ultimate suffering.
After crying out to the heavens for what felt like hours, he shakily stood up. He retreated back into the woods. Knowing that there would be a burial tomorrow, he gathered up petals from his flowers. He carried as much as he could in his arms towards the stream that lazily ran through the town. Taking one last glance behind him, he threw the petals into the air. The glowing dots quickly disappeared into the night. This was the only mourning he could display for his victims.
Night quickly turned into day. The bells rang out in the town. A somber melody played throughout the entire area. The death had been noticed.
Donning his cowl, he made his way into town. Head held low, he wove in and out through the crowds of dragons. He followed the mass of bodies heading towards the cemetery. Taking his usual place to watch, he sat.
As the coatl he had killed was slowly lowered into the ground, he began to sing. His haunting tune floated through the air. He knew no one could hear him, and yet he sang for each and every victim.
The funeral concluded. He returned to his home, and slept.

╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾ R E D A C T E D

code by sunbeaming #402163

Mentioned in...

Favorite Dragon of the Person Above You
"I love this boy! His outfit fits wonderfully with his genes and don't get me started on those colors~" -Ayxia
"really loving the black/white aestetic of redacted. he is totally rocking that kelpie mane, too." -Roule

Most Evil Looking Dragon of the Above User?
"I’d prob have to say this boy! He’s just... those empty eyes... dang. And the mane completes the look. Classic goth kiddo."-DragonCloudBurst

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Exalting REDACTED to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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