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Engine :: Female :: Lava
Topic Started: Nov 12 2012, 10:24 PM (505 Views)
SemperMemor
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Character Number Tenth (Adoption Slot)

Name: Engine

Age: Eight

Gender: Female

Element: Lava

Appearance:


[align=center]Posted Image
By Balu :: Tribal by Draco :: Sketch by Balu
Sketch of wings, by Balu :: Size chart
[/align]
  • The fires of a molten hell burn and swell within the engine-beast's core. Waves of raw heat broil and steam through the many fissures across her body, the ones closest to the surface glowing like red-hot magma. Ashen black scales cover the entirety of her enormous body in a sooty fortitude of thick armor, but the red and orange cracks light up with yellow highlights along her neck, rubs, and haunches, burning with an inner radiance. Desaturated ink is visible under concentrated light, almost like a beetle's glossy shine, is the only hint of a hue amidst the black abyss of her scales.

    Massive plates arch from her back like an impressive royal crown of cragged spikes. The plates are mimicked in one hundred and eight degrees along Engine's ventral anatomy, coming to a most prominent point at her chest, where the grooved plates open like a great gaping maw with teeth that could likely impale victims. The axe-shaped furnace that is her face no less augments her savage looks. Fleshy cords over the sides of her jaws connect the rock-hard scales between the bridge of her nose and her mandibles. Bright, volcanic heat shines from within, casting the high-arched angles of her black cheeks and molten orange eye hallows in a truly fearsome light. Due to these connecting jaws, she cannot eat in the typical fashion of dragons. Rather, the cords are mildly elastic and allow just a slight means of mobility at the very front of her face. Engine's booming, authorizing voice billows from the gruesome working of her very alien facial features, lending her a detached quality that anyone that did not know her might consider upsetting.

    The nearly catastrophic circumstances of her birth are no more an obstacle to the swiftly growing, triumphant victor of a fine Lava specimen. Easily growing to dwarf most of her kin by sheer dimensions alone, Engine rests comfortably knowing that she is well suited for outright destruction. Beneath the heavy armor lies thick muscles, concentrated more at the fore of her body rather than the elegant latter half of her hindquarters. She might be considered a bit top-heavy, but her immense shoulders and thick neck lend her great, incomparable strength when bulldozing through hapless victims and structures alike. Her wingspan, a single pair of four-fingered membranous sails are proportionately even to her body size at a little over twice the length of her body. At maturity, Engine will grow to be one hundred and forty-five feet in length. Her crystal, the twin to her rider's tortoiseshell "T", is embedded in the scales behind her foremost horn.
Personality: Gung-ho, Destructive, Industrious
  • Loud, dominant, and determined as all hell, Engine's personality completely breaks the streak of easy-going and uncommonly kind natures of her humble parents. She is an individual made entirely for the purpose of tearing down and reconstructing, both in physical nature and in abstract matters. She is concerned more with building a better world for the sake of utilizing one's proficiency, not caring for societal standards such as ethics and morality. She does what she wants when she wants to. This attitude of her's may come off as highly offensive and radical, but even so, there is very little that one can do to reason with her. Engine subsists in her own world that sometimes not even her rider may be able to penetrate. Convincing her to do something other than what she believes to be right, what she really feels needs to happen, would be comparable to making a mountain move.

    Engine's questionable morality and ethics lends her a quality of apathy toward the wishes of others. This could be considered a blessing and a curse, perhaps, but the ignorance of what others want her to do allows her to go forth and attempt things that her clutch-mates might balk and blanch at. With the motivation of a thousand rioters, it isn't very hard to believe that when she sets her mind to something, Engine will get it accomplished. Whether this ends up being a good thing or a very unfortunate task is highly questionable especially if her rider is involved, but the lengths at which she goes to get things done is nothing short of commendable. Engine has a particular fondness of covering herself in molten lava and chunks of cooled obsidian for maximum destruction potential. As a young wyrmling, the effect isn't quite as dramatic, but as a fully-grown adult, it could prove to be rather frightening
Partner: Lenus Mars; Deceased (Killed by Iron Glaive)

Rank: Bone

History:
  • On the far western coast of the region of Loth Angresan, a small village harbored within the desolate, forsaken mountains. Taints slithered and tore through the area with the absence of the Sekkain forces to push them back onto the Island of Desolation. It was a patch of land inhabited by warring souls with little to eat and even less fortune in their bursts of fighting with the neighboring tribes that had gone on for decades. In this town a middle-aged couple staked a meager existence. While she tended to the wounded men and boys of their steppe with mediocre medicine, he forged the weapons with which they tore one another apart.

    Malnourished, uneducated, and very much human, they had little chance at seeking a life elsewhere with malicious Tainteds hunting the valleys and treacherous landscape rising up around them like an earthen prison. Their ancestors had stagnated in the area and mingled with the other damned wretches, leading to a very limited and inbred gene pool. They had been unable to conceive for years and, despite their best efforts, were heirless. Perhaps it was better that way, the often thought. No child ever grew up truly successful, no future to be had. They had been able to spare their children a listless fate. That, at least, they had some comfort in.

    Like all of their luck, such a blessing to outsiders would prove to be a curse. The woman's barren womb became swollen with life fifteen years after their marriage. Burdened with the child, the sickly woman's inability to provide for food swiftly fell onto the shoulders of her husband. He fought hard, wearing down his sanity and health to a bare minimum until she was able to give birth. The male babe was born during the autumn of that year as unhealthy and stunted as is parents. The mother hoarded the young child as best she could until he was able to recover, but the unclean air was harsh and did little to help his growth. The father continued to work himself to a wisp of a man to compensate for food on their behalf.

    An untimely raid of quick-winged Forests plucked the forge master from the outlying roads of the village some years later, ending his life in a violent bloodbath. The frequency at which these attacks were increasing, their unrelenting ferocity swiftly taking many lives aside from the father's. Lenus, by this time scarcely out of his toddler years, was spared the same fate. At the age of eleven, the Influenza's plagues swept across the continent. While killing off and sterilizing the dragons that lived, lesser forms of the virus attacked mammals, including the humans. Lenus' mother succumbed to the disease along with the elders and injured members of their village. The boy, now an orphan, fell ill but lived, eventually took to the only profession that anything useful; the forging of weapons. While the area was barren of most resources, it was abundant in raw ore. Lenus struck up a meager living. It wasn't glorious or fulfilling, it was barely living, going hungry more often than not, but he survived, biding out the years of repetitive work with little hope for a better existence. He excelled as his work as he grew accustomed to the tools, using wit to make more effective and lighter weapons.

    Shortly after the Lenus turned seventeen, a pair of young rider-bound Taintlings fell upon the village with commandeered Water in tow. Not hesitating to show the full extent of their abilities, the female Toxic and male Razor quickly overran the place and resided over the people as tyrants. As they grew in size and made their presence known, the warring tribes stopped, bringing a sort of ghoulish peace to their steppe-residing village that had not been seen in generations. It was a double-edged sword, though. The teen had been set to caring for the Razor's hide when not working, earning him more than his fair share of pain and sexual harassment.

    The young Razor eventually left the village to the Toxic for a more adventurous take on life. Augari manipulated and used the young men as her first foot soldiers for the coming battles while the Sekkain army took over the mainland once more. Too small and useful in the forges, Lenus continued to stay alive until the village was liberated by the advancing party of Sekkain dragons. In the foray of clashing dragons, the young man was wounded. The Sekkain riders took the forge apprentice for better treatment and immediate medical attention at their camp. In agony and delirious with fever, he hardly held up a fighting chance to object. Lenus was brought back to Lihn for intensive care and shelter, finally safe.

    The war came to an end during the last days of his recovery. Newfound hope spread throughout the continent and a time of peace washed out the fear of the nation's people. Confused, lost, and nursing a malevolent grudge toward the Toxic dignitary, the young man was presented with a unique opportunity to finally do something with his life. Riders from the Academy came back in time for the upcoming Hatching with promises of fine, noble beasts and a life of unequaled partnership. With the history of tyrannical prison and an unfair caste system fueling behind him, Lenus signed up willingly and eased himself into the hot, active forges of the great city-building until that fateful evening drew close.

    Lenus was rewarded that night with a tortoiseshell crystal from the great white Celestial. He waited, turning the t-shaped stone anxiously in hand and standing for much longer than many of his peers, until a Lava egg's unyielding ministrations drew the attention of the anxious crowd. Its parent’s worried glances and the gasps from the massive audience ticked the candidate off to the knowledge that something wasn't quite right. His curiosity melded into fear for the small hatchling as its egg membrane proved to be too thick, but swift attendance from its Lava parent wrought a hole for the little one to escape. The child recuperated from its ordeal and, to his amazement, it approached him and claimed Lenus as her own.

    The man's diligent silence and the dragoness' raging inferno of heated passion clashed magnificently as they struck their powerful alliance. Nights of warring tongues plagued the pair as they grew to live with one another. The hatchling that was once too weak to escape her own shell began to grow into a massive behemoth worthy of the finest praise and, alongside her, the stoic man slowly started to overcome his inverted mind. Time would wear away the frightful horrors of the past just as much as it would reveal the future to come, but what sinister plans to come out of destroyed ruins is too soon to predict.
[align=center]Hatching Post
Written by Balu![/align]
Quote:
 
The gnawing anxiety poor Metis was experiencing was not completely unfounded amidst the calamitous storm raging outside and the explosive displays of parental rage being held inside the 'safety' of the dome. Any timid hatchling would have been understandably reluctant (despite the pull of their bond) to enter that frightening world while weak and innocent.

The Lava egg which lay safely within the grip of Ore was no such creature, and neither fear nor lethargy had delayed its hatching.

Unfortunately it was a barrier of the physical kind which had stalled the dragonet's arrival. As sometimes happened in unlucky cases, the Lava egg had grown an unnaturally thick shell which was proving quite impervious the hatchling's attempt to free itself. Despite numerous attempts to batter the shell apart the hatchling remained incased in its igneous prison and was swiftly running out of both time and patience. The Lava hatchling was not weak by anyone's definition but its limited resources of energy were certainly a hindrance, and the trapped dragonet was running mostly on aggression now. Frustration had hardened into a catalyst of strength and the hatchling resolutely kicked and thrust outwards at the convex walls, but the surface was still so slick with amniotic fluid that its efforts went to naught.

Still fear did not creep into the hatchling's heart, just irritation. Outside this suffocating cell were light and heat and action! A world where a dragon could grow far beyond the stretches of imagination and shape the world as they saw fit. This container was a galling affront against their very nature. So cramped and wet and dark, it resisted the blows rained upon it with increasing ferocity as rage crystallized from failure. It was humiliation of the highest degree, to be thwarted at the first leg of the race. Held in bondage when they knew their rider was out there right now and waiting for the partnership to be completed. Untold wonders beyond the fringes of their world, cruelly taunting the child who wanted so fiercely to claim them. Within its biological hourglass the Lava child was running short on grains and yet all around it was drowned liberally in a sea of sand. It was nothing but a bad joke. The hatchling's first and last contribution to the world would be nothing more than an aggrieved cry which escaped from its throat, the last farewell from a dragon who didn't want to go. It would be a sore consolation prize to the dragonet's rider, who would perhaps feel the same agony of a world which had been stolen from them.

Despair for a life lost had not broken over the audience just yet. Only the worried parents curled in a protective barrier around their clutch had noticed the strife which had fallen upon their Lava progeny, for now their fear was private. Ophelya's transgressions had been harshly reprimanded (though some would argue not harsh enough) and despite the grim weather there was a determined air of normalcy returning. Two parents in particular were enjoying the fruit of their partnership with one hatchling free of its shell and clambering giddily all over Cereus' titanic frame and the other comfortably rocking within its terracotta nest. Karst's antics were a delightful show for the audience, who laughed to see the Earth's high-flying antics as he sought out his bewildered rider. Narcissa and Cereus did not have to wait long to see their remaining child either. The second Earth egg was taking its sweet time to stretch within the confines of its nest as luxuriously as any spherical object could, twisting back and forth to test the wall of clay which held it in place. After a careful blind examination of the forces which pressed against it, the egg ceased its restless movement and settled into a rhythmic tapping from some hard horn or claw inside. Strategically the hatching threw its considerable weight against the side of its egg which was wedged tightly to the clay to act as a counterbalance, hammering the crown of its shell with decisive strikes.

Under such a calculated onslaught even the thick shell of an Earth egg wouldn't last long and soon chips of the rugged exterior began to creak upwards and flick shards all over Narcissa's carefully decorated nest. Finally in one crisp blow the very tip of the egg split apart, pierced by a broad, goldenrod beak. A.. beak? Not completely unheard of among Earths, but the head which followed certainly was. The hatchling shoved its ornate crown through the break in its shell and was quick to tear the edges of the opening apart with its strong claws to make room for the rest of its body. No doubt Narcissa would be the most pleased mother on the sands to behold the strange miracle which she had created. Long of body and thick of limb, the hatchling which pried itself from the nondescript Earth egg wore a cloak of stupendous feathers which it promptly shook the air into so that they sprouted lightly from his chestnut scales. This was no Earth. No Earth ever sported four fine, feathered wings and such a fantastic fan of a tail. In the spirit of his mother this beautiful hybrid sat on his haunches and spent his first moment of life preening the luxurious red plumes which sprouted from his throat, nonchalant towards the stunned audience who could not quite reconcile what they were seeing.

Not since 2900 b.r. had a new breed graced the sands of the Academy, but then end of the war evidentially brought with it more new joys every day. This little hatchling was a perfect mix of his heritage, both strong and beautiful, though he hardly seemed to care for the attention he received. Rather he appeared to take it in stride with a quiet kind of satisfaction, shrugging off the acclamation modestly. Ore's secretive actions had begun to draw attention from the crowd anyway, and the little crossbreed was not the only set of curious eyes to try and peer into the impenetrable wall of dragon flesh. The female Lava's swift blow had come just in time. From the damaged crown of the egg an axe-like snout erupted outwards, sucking in huge gasps of air through the bizarre vents that acted as a mouth. She was light-headed and her limbs shook with pain from being trapped too long, but the little Lava strove upwards and clawed her way out of the egg with renewed desperation. Swiftly she hauled her charcoal body out on to the sand and lay panting with exertion, her body weak but her soul singing with celebration.

Death would not claim her, it would not steal what was rightfully hers! She did not allow herself to rest but struggled triumphantly on to her feet and negotiated the living terrain which guarded her from the outside world. Ore and Metis obligingly drew away their crossed limbs to reveal their first child to the world, and what a sight she was. Nearly pitch black and wonderfully angular, she lacked the traditional curling horns and powerful tail of Lava dragons. Instead her body broke apart in jagged sheathes of rock-hard armour, the flesh closest to her core glowing with volcanic heat. Like a spirited mare she tossed her head back and snorted acrid smoke, unable to stop herself from charging forward across the sands. She would not wait any longer, she must claim her rider now! Death was a pitiful beggar clinging at her heels and she would kick him back into the gutter with the force of her flight!

Unfortunately her gusto out-matched her energy reserves.

With a rasping wheeze her limbs failed and she sunk bonelessly to the ground, sand spraying out from the force of impact. Disappointment burned her insides that she hadn't even been able to make it halfway, when she could feel her rider was still waiting just beyond her. Still amidst the colourful feathers of his mother, the ornate crossbreed raised his hooked beak and stared across the sand at his clutchsibling. Her distress was clear to his eyes. He could see the barely-restrained trembles of frustration that wracked her craggy chest. Languorously he heaved himself off his hindquarters and took leave of his parents with a polite tilt of his head, swanning across the sands to where the Lava lay with an oddly sensual sway to his large body.

She noticed his approach immediately and whipped her head in his direction brusquely, but an imperceptible murmur appeared to soothe her. She allowed the strange hybrid to sidle close to her, their mis-matched head lowered in conspiracy. But it was not secrets they exchanged. The molten pits that punctured her sides had been sputtering like dying coals previously, but now could be seen from even the highest stands to burn with new heat. The air around her had been cleansed and stirred into a brisk breeze that flowed down into her starved lungs almost without her flexing her diaphragm, invigorating her with the energy she should have been granted at birth. Demurely the crossbreed who had helped her moved back half a pace to allow his clutchsister to arise and shake herself off, revelling in the strength of her own tall limbs. Neither was the type to gloat and parade. Merely a light touch of maw to beak was used to express the wordless gratitude which these two very different dragonets shared before they broke apart and sought their own riders amongst the crowd.

The Lava had an easier time of it, her rider was right smack-dab in the middle of the chaos which had dominated the inner sanctum. They were a bit of a broad creature, she observed, but short in comparison to their companions. There was plenty of room there for improvement, and she'd ensure they grew stronger!

"You there! Why are you dawdling! There's not a minute to waste for us. We must make our mark upon this world or die trying. "

[align=center]Lava Egg II
Posted Image
Engine
Female
(Lava Ore x Ice Metis)
Gung-ho, Destructive, Industrious
[/align]


[align=center]~ ---- ~

Parents
Lava Ore x Ice Metis

Siblings
Female Metal (Steel) Niahm
Male Lava Unzen
Male Ice Verglas

Children
By Metal (Iron) Glaive
Male Razor
Male Metal (Copper) Occam[/align]




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