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Jonna - Female - Wyrmling; Partner of Toxic Pantera
Topic Started: May 22 2011, 06:00 PM (526 Views)
CloakAndDagger
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THE DUNGEON MASTER
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Character Number- 8

Name- Jonna Itahn (With a French flair, like Johnna, but with the first bit akin to how Jean-Luke Picard is pronounced)

Age- 20 (Bonded at 12, looks 14) [updated Jul2015]

Gender- Female

Sexuality- meh

Appearance-
Jonna is a wraith of a child. She’s barily there, made of skin and bone and ferocity. What little definition she does have is all solid muscle drawn tensely over her form in wry ripples of strength. Contrary to her appearance and gangly limbs, she is deathly strong for something her size. She could easily snap a man’s wrist or pull him to the ground if she takes advantage of the situation and she often uses this potency of force to snap the necks of creatures she catches. Even so, she stands barely around four and a half feet, and looks smaller even in that she tends to hold herself low to the ground, hunched. However, she has no suppositions about how her body is built and, while she may crouch and snarl like an animal, she runs on two feet with the fleetness of a deer and climbs rocks and trees like a vine. She is flexible and fast and can easily contort her body into any many of seemingly impossible ways to do what she must to survive.

Her eyes are feral, hot grey pinpoints, the captured images of a lightning storm. They flick observantly, taking in all stimuli from her surroundings and relay all possible sources of danger to her quickly responsive brain. When she stares, she stares at and then through you, picking up the signs and signals and language of the body. Given the right opportunity, she may be able to even perceive possible actions from a person even before they consciously realize what they’re doing.

Her face is thin, but still somehow has the rounded edges of innocence gifted to younger children. However, between her dark, close cut mop of black hair and her wild, wolfish teeth, any illusions as to her true nature are readily broken to show the fearsome monster she has become. And, if there is any further doubt of this, one can just count the overwhelming number of scars that crisscross and rivet her body in an etching of her life within the world’s wilds. The largest of these scars, given to her at a young age by a wyvern, are the painfully visable as large, aching claw marks dragged along her back from her shoulder blades to her lower back. She has several smaller, more trivial ones along her face, as well, but, in luck, she has managed to keep all of her features as well as her fingers and toes over the years.

Living in the grip of nature has taught her to take advantage of all that is given, and neither waste nor do what is unnecessary. Accordingly, she doesn’t give any thought to clothing as a matter of modesty and, if covering didn’t offer protection, she would likely wear nothing at all. However, seeing that her small size poses problems against larger creatures, she wears the soft pelt of a duskstrider on her back to add heft to her silhouette and more substance to her shape. And, thankfully, it is just long enough to cover her nether regions at either front or back. However, as it is quite a large fur, while it does provide a means of both defense and initial deterrence, it was not easy to keep it about her. To surmount this, Jonna stole swaths of hardy black cloth and tore it to manageable strips to sew into the leather of the pelt. I this way, she could literally bandage it to her like a second skin. Wasting nothing, the excess fabric is worn about her feet and hands to layer between her movements and the rocky ground. Even her crystal is kept bound within these layers, and is set within swaths of fabric bound about her heart.
Sketch of Jonna

Personality-
This girl is a strange creature. Her mannerisms, thought, and actions all gingerly ride the line between human and animal and, often, veer straight off farther into the latter than the former. She was, however, a very lucky child to have enough human interaction with her brother to allow for some higher thought processes akin to social skills. She can speak, but only in whispers. And she can plot, plan, or set traps as any man can. However, she has little to no concept of morals and certainly no concept of manners as detailed by those in polite society. As such, she also has never had the luxury for concepts like beauty and would sooner eat a flower than appreciate its delicate floral gestures. She also tends to be utterly silent, like a looming breath of death, or be so full of noise and voice that nothing coming out of her seems to make any sense. With this, she is greatly lacking in real social skills and, seeing another human, would treat them like any possible threat an animal of the size would pose. She thinks of herself as more akin to some sort of weakling dragon, an animal, a beast, but certainly not of man.

Jonna’s eyes are quick, her mind instinctual, alert, observant, and detail oriented. She is suspicious and wary of everyone and will in no way ever underestimate the tiniest of threats. She has learned her lesson many a time and is no fool to the possibilities of danger. She trusts no one and nothing and, from her dealings with the world, does not know or perhaps does not remember the warmth of kindness. She can only assume the worst in everyone. However, her honed senses can often give hints to what is actually a possible source of harm and what is either a bluff or misinterpretation.

Her fearful tendencies have saved her life on many occasions, but, just as she does not understand compassion or graciousness, she does not know cowardice either and, if something needs to be accomplished, it will be done and there will be no hesitation in her actions. Outwardly, she seems like a ruthless, harsh, cruel black hearted being and nothing of her childlike traits have been preserved through the hellish gauntlet of her life, however, what she does is not meant in malicious spirit. She may snarl, she may bite and snap, but she only follows what the natural world around her did and her ‘cruelty’ is only measured against what is seen in other animals who must also kill and hunt to eat. She bears no grudges and nor does she stalk for sport. She will never expend energy or time doing something that is not necessary. She has even been forced to eat carrion and, if in dire need, will consume anything edible to sustain herself.

However, if alone and safe, Jonna can be seen to still have much of the fleeting humanity that is otherwise buried beneath animalistic and feral manners. She is curious and, even in her suspicion, if she has deemed something as benign, she will investigate and pool her hands over it to feel every inch of its space. There can still be a ginger, gentleness to her hands though her fingers are rough and calloused from rough use. However, upon the nearest hint of danger, she is once again that defensive animal cornered against a wall, fire in her eyes and a snarl upon her young lips.


Rank- Bone


History-
Jonna was born to a loving, happy family. Her parents were warm and kind and willing to give her every support she could need. They were not well off, but neither were they truly wanting of anything and they were able to provide a safe, welcoming home to the newborn girl. For two years she played and was surrounded by her parents, her loved ones, and her extended family in a quiet town between the Zavan Plains and Nyushi. Her older brother was kind to her and very understanding of his new position as the oldest of two. Despite her infancy and excessive drooling, he put up with her quite well and, aside from some envy of the attention she was given, together they were well.

But, with all stories of this nature, something goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Mere days before her second birthday, Jonna’s home was attacked and nearly wrenched from its foundations by three tainted dragons. One snatched her, cradling the child in its arms as she threw out her arms and cried for her parents, who were being slaughtered by the other two dragons. Just as the group was about to flee, her 6 year old brother scrabbled out from under the broken roof of the house and stumbled after them. He was unwilling to just let this go, let her go and, upon consideration, they let him follow his crying sister for some time. At an arbitrary point, he was deemed useful and too was ensnared in their raptor claws to be taken with his sister to a remote part of a deep, unpopulated forest.

There, alone and without shelter, the two young children were abandoned.

The taints, two fully turned bones and one forest who was slowly ossifying, had kept an eye on the household for some time. They had needed a young child in order to test a theory. Spearheaded by a water-born bone, a curiousity was born as to what would happen to a human child, born to a well human family, if it was left in the wilds and forced to live as an animal. Would the environment cause them to fall back to their feral instincts? Perhaps the shock would rid them of their humanity all together and, as such, this scene could mock humans and their thoughts of ‘superiority.’ They wanted to reduce Jonna and her brother to animals.

However, their initial plans did not pan out as they’d hoped. The children were starving and threatened without any sort of guidance, so, it was deemed necessary to at least plant the predatory seed critical for survival. There would be no results if the children did not live long enough. Therefore, the dragons kept close tabs on the children, and attempted to teach them to keep dry, to hunt, as well as push them in the right direction for feral behavior and how to act. They also placed the idea in their minds that the lord of the taint was the only lord. He was the most powerful, the most feared, the highest and he owned all that he touched. They were to keep this in mind though their time in the wilds.

So, steered by the bones toward a guarded, natural state, the two began to really live and grow in the wild. Oka was far too old at 6 to lose the social skills he had learned, so he talked and he taught Jon as much as he could. Just as the three taints guided them toward the animals, he tried to lead Jonna back to what he knew, what he had learned, and what he had valued. Living in the woods did, however, affect him as it affected her in many ways. They play fought like wolves, slept together like cubs, and he protected her as best he could when the dragons were not there to fend off predators. Thankfully, though, the three bones did make sure to drive off any real threats that could be troublesome and, only gradually let more harmful things in as the children grew and could deal with them.

Together, they endured the torrential rain, the moderate colds of winter, the dwindling sources of food. They relied on one another, especially Jonna on Oka. She would not have made it nearly as long as she did without him and the tainted three saw this and congratulated themselves on the choice of keeping him. However, in their hubris, they were lack in keeping all highly dangerous creatures out. During that time, one wyvern managed to slip in and, honing in on the smells of two tasty children, stalked them. When the time came, Jon and Oka were thoroughly unprepared to face such a large creature. They had spent 4 years in the forests, but, had never seen nor had to deal with a wyvern, not even a small one as this. Oka was only 10 and Jonna was 6.

The hungry creature found Jonna first and made no hesitations attacking her. The initial blows left deep trenched claw marks in her back and, she was unable to even move to prepare a counter. Not that she had anything to counter with. Oka, hearing, blindsided the wyvern, who was oblivious to anything but the girl and had underestimated her brother. He took this opportunity to blind it and, in a moment of its hesitation, found a weak spot in its neck and severed the beast’s trachea. He had been very, very lucky. And, after bandaging her up with what he could, she survived with merely the scars to show for it. They had been very, very lucky.

Not more than a year later, near her 7th birthday, Jonna was inspected from afar by the tainted three. They hissed and plotted and debated and decided that she had not fallen as far as fast as they wanted. Her brother, the last link to humanity she had, was pulling her too far from the feral natures they so desired for her. That damage might have been done, but they could prevent any further contamination. So, without any sort of warning or notice, they captured Jonna and, flying her across the desolate landscape, threw her straight into the blackest places of them all, the heart of desolation. They hoped its dark potency could spark that needed change from a pup to a wolf. And so it did.

Initially, however, only one stayed behind to keep an eye on the girl. The other two flew back to keep the boy in check. The still half forest bone, who had been the quietest voice among them, was not heartless to what they had done to this girl and the more time she spent with Jonna, the more she pitied and grieved over what they had turned her into, what they had taken from her. She helped Jonna understand what sort of a place desolation was and what how best to survive in its cruelty, but she had no will to really subject the girl to its full scope, so she hunted with her and sheltered her as best she could without the other two dragons to reprimand her actions.

However, when the two others came to see how well the girl had reacted, they found their conspirator ruining everything they had tried to do. So, there, in front of Jonna, they brutally killed the forest-bone for her weakness and left the girl completely alone.

Jonna spent 5 more years there, trapped in the harshest of environments, and the overwhelming presence of the taint infection seeped into her bones like living in radiation. Her hair grew in black, her teeth pricked to predatory curves, and she could not help but allow her heart to grow fierce and darken so that she would survive against anything. She did not see her brother and gradually came to think of him less and less until she forgot him entirely and focused solely on the ever-present threats around her. She grew just as the tainted dragons wanted and she became the very image of its twisted influence. Where she should have grown in love and warmth to be a sweet, caring child, she was instead given cold and solitude and became cruel, fierce and unphased by killing. She grew from innocence into a beast at only 12 and, even now, she will do anything to survive. She grew to become a predator.


Pet(s)- none, she would probably eat them

*Understandably, this is young. In fact, it is one year younger than the minimum for candidacy. I understand if this must be changed, but, I rationalized that, for one thing, a younger age would be less of an issue for the taint. Aswell, if candidates are to be soldiers and the age limit is posted merely to make for better soldiers, Jonna has a great deal of combat experience from having to fend off nature for most of her life. Therefore, the age would not be much of an issue for fighting.


The Dragon

[align=center]
Mystery Egg
(Toxic)

Posted Image
Pantera
Male
Toxic Septys x NPC Toxic Venenum
Insidious, Presumptuous, Controlling
Jonna, 12, female (CloakAndDagger)[/align]

Quote:
 
[align=center]However, it seemed that in the distance, towards a calmer area secluded by the hollow created by the mother's giant feet where she had previously rested, there was also activity. Forgotten by its parents the moment after it was born, delivered in ire and a spitting voice, a large egg was kept watch by the behemoth mycotic for the entirety of its incubation. Kept warm by the heat of her body and the rotting of the swamp below, the black and blue tinged egg had sat in solitude.

But it was there that the egg was the most comfortable, away from its brethren and out of their din of stupidity he sat in his comfortable silence. He needed not the companionship of others, and it was a wonder that a crystal matching the one in his yet to be revealed body had ever been given out. He had protested it, silently and willing as the din of intelligence had grown onto his psyche whilst still within his shell. As he grew within he learned what he wanted and didn't want, silently raging against his creators for birthing him into a world where having another body attached to his was the normal symbiosis of the general dragon kind.

However time had passed, his growing ire only seeding itself more as he grew and grew, his prison growing more and more crampt as the days went on. And finally it seemed to come to a conclusion; distantly he could hear the racket produced by his unwanted clutchmates. The scent of meat had his small stomach rumbling, his eggsack and yolk having dried up a few days ago leaving him famished. He knew then, heralded by his caretaker's deep echoing rumble from outside, that it was time for him to make his entrance.

Though unlike the other eggs, he did not struggle and slam against his shell, he was of a certain particular breed, after all. It was but on a mere whim that the shell of his egg was simply melted away and burning a hole big enough for him to cleanly slip out of. Yet he did not blunder forward right away, no, he was better than that. He was just a distant and far away series of bright blue glowing dots off in the gloom, far to uninteresting to be caught up  by the attentions of the humans.

Instead he patiently watched, first one lightning brother, then a lightning sister, finally an abyssal sister all flew out ahead of him, dripping wet and slopping through the muck. Their disgusting antics brought a sneer to his long face as his tail flicked. No, he was better than they could have ever hoped to be, he was not a blind dolt that ran forward without pause or thought. He was the one that calmly stood, skirting around the edge of the candidates and the small ring they had produced. Out of sight and never in their minds he circled all of them from afar a few times before his gaze narrowed.

There, within the shadow of an already bonded man, sat the girl clutching the crystal that matched his own that sat on the point of his whiplike tail, which cracked and coiled behind him as he inspected her. A pathetic little thing, hadly a bother to him and rather unnecessary in his mind. But the powers that were deemed that he had to go with her, so he resolved himself and slunk out of the shadows like a panther, his hiss dragging the attentions of the candidates to where he approached them from behind.

He was like a phantom, glad in black skin with dots of electric teal busting from his skin. The hissing was the product of the same bright color dribbling past his long jaws and tongue, the acid spitting and boiling as it melted the ground below. He cared not for the rest of the babbling lot, ignoring them wholly as he carefully placed one foot infront of the other as he circled the tiny girl.

"Jonna." He hissed, voice much like the acid that dripped in his very veins. "Yes, I know your name girl, I know of your small little existence and your weak body." He sneered, his treacherous voice growing more vile as he closed the gap between them, pacing like a cat and moving in naught but fluid grace. "You will come with me, do you understand? You will follow my lead, and if you do not, your death will be swift by my own hands." He growled finally, though tilted his head. "But then again...maybe you will have your uses to me...Neither positive or negative has been shown to me in this dawn of birth." He at least seemed to be tentatively accepting of her at that point, instead of just melting her as he originally planned. "I would suggest, dear girl, that you stick to the positives if you want your Pantera to let you live."
[/align]

Name- Pantera

Age- 8

Gender- Male

Element- Toxic

Appearance- Pantera, sleek in form and elegant in movement, is both somehow both beautiful and horrific to behold. His body is lithe and long. His face, narrowed to a taper, is alit with six piercing, hubris-lit eyes that lead to a line of flexible, but poisonous spines that flick down his back in clustered pairs. His horns are a symmetrical trio of long, arched spurs that rise from the edge of his scalp, below his eye-like, and his chin. They curve back effortlessly to come to dangerous spear points, just as the pearled teeth glimmering in his mouth clasp and clutch together in vicious knife edges.

His neck is of moderate length and leads to shoulders of wry muscle. His forelimbs are thin and taper to dexterous talons with long, clawed toes and, just as his front, his back legs are lithe, but, beset with compacted, lean muscle. These limbs, though seemingly delicate, possess a strange power caught tight within its sinew and fibers to give him a feline, panther-like fluid grace as he walks with head held height. His chest, however, is large and thick of form, but not out of proportion. Here, his great lungs and organs are housed to bring him endurance and potency above many other species. His larger chest also allowed for the development of powerful wing muscles to pump his long, twin thumbed leather-bound limbs and give him beautiful aerial ability. These wings have a long surface area that bind themselves quite far down his tail, which whips and arcs thinly behind him like a cruel, highly flexible torturous instrument. Ending in a star of points that houses his crystal, his tail easily bites harshly into unwary flesh.

A long, singular mass of coiled muscle and deadly force, Pantera is a dark predator in both shape and mind. His scaled hide is a deep wash of pitch and midnight that allows him a perfect phantom possession of the night. Slinking like a serpentine puma, the toxic easily navigates the most rugged environments with a silent precision and, with bright eyes at home in the dead of night just as the noon of day, he has no trouble keeping himself on target. Like his glowing eyes, brilliant teal orbs dot and symmetrically fleck his neck, shoulders, legs and back. One single, luminous orb is even set deep upon each of his careful paws. These perfectly formed parcels of poison hold a deadly power much unlike the poison of his kin or others. Though an electric blue in color, his deadly spit is a chemical relation to Hydrofluoric acid. It sinks straight through scale, hide and skin to damage organs and whittle bone. The chemical, no matter where it touches, first goes to the lungs and corneas. Though it is initially painless, his acid has the potential for deep burns and tissue death while interfering with calcium metabolism. Though not quite as potent as HF, the chemical that flows through him is not anything to underestimate.
Hatching art by Tox! <3333


Personality- Pantera is a scheming creature. Even the black of his form is nothing compared to the darkness of his shadow and, with every silence between words, he’s sure to be thinking of his next moment, his next opportunity. No matter the situation, his aim is always to be several steps ahead. He wishes things planned, plotted, and easily moved forward to his whims, and, while he will take all the time he needs to do this, he will not hesitate a moment to carry it out. Still, there is a surprising amount of patience in him, despite his treacherous intelligence. He will wait, not just for the right chance to take, but also for the right shape of situation. Everything has to be just right, for, above all, Pantera desires to be the master of all he sees. And he wishes his designs for leadership to be elegant in their sheer simplicity. Forever and always, he relishes the control it brings him and, like a hunter guiding prey to trap, every moment toward that allows him even greater influence, or so he thinks. The wyrm would, of course, never be so foolish as to come face to face with someone and brashly order them to obey him outright. Instead, he uses the movements of his body, the whip of his tail, and the fork of his tongue to make himself known. He can be galvanizing, should he choose his words right, and his slippery words, sometimes honeyed, sometimes caustic, are always precise and, more often than not, they carry subtle double meaning. His treachery is evident in the backhanded remarks he plays like chess pawns at his peers and he never seems to be without quip or word to comment.

The predatory creature carries himself with regal step and royal pride. His head, always held high, allows him to look down upon others more easily and, even when sleeping, he chooses the highest, most important looking area to take as his own even if it means an uncomfortable, restless night. There is no doubt about his condescension. Everything about him from the way he moves to the way he speaks, even his plans of leadership show a creature wishing to push others underneath him. He wishes to be taller by standing on the backs of others, but, more often than not, he is uncaring towards their individual plights. The dark creature will only take notice of another being if it suits him or can somehow benefit him in some way. However, he does have a certain duity, he knows, to his underlings. While made of spite and bile, Pantera is well aware that soldiers only follow a leader who will stand for them and, if it means earning an underling, he will step in to either defend or attack in their benefit. Then, once he knows he has them under his paw, he will keep hold of them like a vice and use them as he sees fit while also keeping mind to their base wellbeing.

His hubris, however, comes at a deep price. One day, perhaps, he will be akin to the leader he so aims to be, but, for now, his flaws prevent him from attaining any hard foothold as controller of others. Instinctually feeling above the rabble, he often falls prey to offhanded presumption and can underestimate the strength or intellect of those around him. Especially with Jonna, whom he sees as little more than a dog, he assumes that she is a dumb, slow creature. Her constant willful defense against his measures to control her, however, prove him otherwise; though, it will take some time for the true point to sink in. Like with other self-absorbed creatures, Pantera’s ways of thinking are not so flexible, and any party would find it hard to change his perspective or opinions. Arguing with him is a fool’s errand, no matter if advocating for something correct or erroneous. The latter is often met with more demeaning looks, as he looks even more harshly down upon stupidity than most other things. He finds that idiocy often causes him the need to repeat himself. He desperately hates repeating himself. Insolence, however, comes as a close second in loathing and he detests assertive attempts to humble him.

As often cruel as he seems to be, however, the Toxic does nothing he doesn’t deem necessary. He is harsh and demanding, but, more often just to prove points. Everything is done for reason. He kills, but only what he needs to either feed himself or dominate another. Dirty hands are for soldiers, not leaders, but, he has little qualm about spilling blood if it means he can sit higher on the throne of their death. Pantera is fickle and frugal. He despises waste, be it coin, food, or time, and he strives to pry every last drop of effectiveness from whatever he finds himself doing. Along to this, he also will not put forth the effort into anything unless the time or risk outweighs the result. There could be magic gold buried in the hills, but, the creature would not so much as think of lifting a finger to dig for it if he did not think that it would be of use to him. It could be something of great intrinsic value, but, if it cannot be used, sold, or molded, then it is worthless and he will leave it to rust and rot. Just as he is highly criticizing of others, he also has high standards for himself, which means that he must use every moment to make himself into the leader he thinks he should be. Lo be the fool who wastes his time, for, despite his patience, his youth brings him quick to anger. Though, as he ages, he is sure to cool and become more calm and collected in his devices.



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