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| Dimitri Ehesen:Female:Bone; Inari:Female:Ruin | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 8 2015, 11:46 AM (384 Views) | |
| Silverfeather | Jun 8 2015, 11:46 AM Post #1 |
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Samurai Pizza Feather
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[align=center]Just one more time before I go I'll let you know That all this time I've been afraid Wouldn't let it show Nobody can save me now, no Nobody can save me now Stars are only visible in darkness Fear is ever-changing and evolving And I have been poisoned inside But I, I feel so alive Nobody can save me now The king is crowned It's do or die Nobody can save me now[/align] Character Number: 15th (Raffle trade prize) Name: Dimitri Ehesen Age: 33 Gender: Androgynous Sex: Biologically Female. Sexuality: Asexual, aromantic Appearance:Not very intimidating, Dimitri measures at five foot five. Many years of hardship have toned his body to be lean, and, due to malnourishment, he is underweight. This can be seen from his barely protruding ribcage and the sharp protrusions of his joints. Dimitri keeps his rather small and lack-luster breasts bound, and even without the bandages, it is rather hard to distinguish his gender. As it stands, the assarian-bound soul chooses to dress simply and let others deduce what they will. Even a steady observation of his facial features would prove difficult to concern whether or not Dimitri is male or female. A slightly sharp button nose is set between slightly almond shaped dark blue eyes that are barely highlighted by swept back cheek-bones. This gives him a mixture of both masculinity and femininity. If there is any fat on the male, it would be around the jawline, though it is more pointed then square. His medium auburn hair is almost always kept neat and trimmed, though occasionally will let the top part grow into a mohawk of sorts if he so feels like it. His complexion speaks of assyrian origins. Medium brown skin resembles melted chocolate, shining easily in the sun. His summer complexion is richer than in the winter; where it takes on a lighter brown color. Though, despite looking smooth, Scars criss-cross his arms, legs and torso, from various fights, torture, and other hazards that come from being the rider of a tainted dragon. However, along his shoulders, upper back and curling partially around his neck is a tattoo etched into his skin. Though he usually hides it with a scarf or long tapered collars for his shirts. Dimitri’s clothing consists of whatever he can get his hands on. Usually sticking to pants, shirts for the summer. He adds layers in the winter: a long billowing trench coat and scarves. He doesn’t really care about coloration, though Inari at least makes sure that colors match and that he doesn’t look a complete idiot. After all, she can’t have him making her look bad in front of people. Dimitri's first preferred weapon is a long staff, and while not much of a fighter to begin with, wields it expertly. Once it had delicate carvings in it, and had been adorned with various feathers and beads; the wood is now as smooth as it had been when it had first been carved. Only one feather remains tied to a string that looks like it will fall off at any moment. A few nicks and scratches do mar the tan wood. The staff isn’t the only weapon Dimitri can use--he is skilled with a bow and arrow. His second preference for weaponry is the long bow. He knows enough to use a dagger. His crystal is kept in a simple one that is found on him at all times. Personality: Organized, Fearful, Sentimental, Growing up, Dimitri could have been considered a fun loving, adventure with his heart on his sleeve; along with good leadership qualities, yet now his personality is warped into something more twisted and far from what could have been. He is easily spooked by things that could be considered a bump in the night. Even in his most relaxed state, there is always a tinge of it underlying everything he does. Years spent in the taint, he has mastered to mask blatant fear, but it is still obvious that It's there. Despite despising his own dragon with every fiber of his being, it’s easier for him to not show fear around others with her around, as he knows she wouldn’t let anything…life threatening come to harm him. He can somewhat joke/ with others if needed. It is a love/hate relationship. It is easy for others, (even his own dragon when needed), to play to his fearful nature. If something needs to be done, and done right the first time, threatening the male gets the job done. He will do anything (even murder) if it will get him out of having to face whatever consequences are threatened. Even in situations that force him into his shivering mess, his flight response usually is what he prefers to act on, to run and hide away from everything instead of having to deal with it face-to-face. Although, if abruptly startled, or push come to shove, Dimitri will strike out with no warning. Any loyalty he has to the tainted is based heavily heavily on fear. Any mission should be given to him, rather than his dragon. When Dimitri isn’t in a fearful situation, he is rather organized. Everything has it’s place. His coin purse always goes on the right side and his knives always in the same place. Nothing gets misplaced with the male, which is why Inari usually leaves important items with him. With her forgetful memory, she wouldn’t remember where she put it, whereas Dimitri would immediately find it a home and keep it there. The little shack that is nestled in the fang mountains is, while not the most comfortable, spick and span for the male. quite the opposite of Inari’s little lair, should anyone have the fortune of finding it. Dimitri can get in a tithy if anything is out of place, or someone moves something and doesn’t put it back. Disorganization is Dimitri’s pet peeve and has to force himself not to try and organize any vendor or merchants shop if it looks like an absolute mess. Dimitri has even been known to walk out of a shop it looks just like utter chaos. One thing one wouldn’t expect of the fearful little male would be how sentimental he can get. Objects that tie him to his past, he keeps and holds close to himself. They are almost as sacred to him as his gods. Anything with a good memory, or even a pleasant one, he will hold onto with a passion that is almost sickening. Most of the items could be considered junk or worthless, only collecting dust on the shelf that he keeps them on. Of anything, these are the objects that he despises being touched or handled without care. He can often be found looking off into the distance. When he is able, he likes to visit the places that he has been or knew of, and will sit to remember a time when he wasn’t the sordid little creature that he is now. When he isn’t forced to be thinking of a task or mission, he solidly sits in the past, or tries too, as now even those memories have been so warped out of context that they are far from what they originally had been. He likes to think his memories are as spick and span as they had been created, but in reality, that is far from the truth. If he creates new memories that are pleasant, or good, he is quick to find something to attach them to. Something to add to his collection- in a vain attempt to find the silver-lining to the life he lives. Sometimes, very rarely, one could sway him from his task set before him from Inari (or their tainted leaders), by trying to invoke this sense of sentimentality that he tries to hide from most of the world. If one can get through the shivering, stuttering mess that Dimitri can be when put in his fearful state, one could potentially get him to face up to his fears if one could show him that it would be better for him. That he should try and live up to the idealistic version that would have been himself if he hadn’t bonded. This is also easier if the dragon is not around to keep prodding him, or if she herself forgets what they were doing there in the first place. Rank: Bone/ legion? History: Dimitri Ehesen is the eldest child in a group of three. His parents were part of a traveling tribe that wandered southern Zavan plains, even into the desert at times. A simple tribe, with simple beliefs and rituals, it is one of many that could be found. To outsiders, their views on life can seem backwards. They place and favor males over females. Females took on the ‘womanly roles’ --cleaning, child-rearing, cooking. Males had the responsibilities of hunting, leadership (both spiritually, and of the tribe), security. It is considered good luck upon the family if the eldest child is male. Sometimes, those families with such a blessing have a higher status among the tribe, especially when it comes to getting first choice of the hunt and other materials gathered, made or traded. It would then go in order by those who have sons and what number they would be, those without sons being the last. Families who are unable to have children are usually sought out by others to help with child-rearing, or if needed to adopt a child. Sons, as per usual, are chosen or adopted out first, while daughters are last. Leadership roles, are not usually passed on from father to son (though, depending, they are heavily favored), males as they are growing and learning, are observed and then from aspiring traits, are marked for which position would benefit them, and the tribe. It was with this knowledge, that when Dimitri was born, the parents decided to deceive the village. She had had the unfortunate experience of no mid-wife; the father had to do everything to help her through the birth. By the time the midwife had been able to get to them, the child was already bundled and cleaned and nursing. In the end, it helped spread the lie that the child had been born male, instead of female. They took turns caring for the child, and no matter what, made sure that nobody, nobody ever found out. They bathed the child alone, instead of with the group, and while not a thing the tribes usually did, it wasn’t unheard of to care for a child alone for the most part. As Dimitri grew older, it became slightly harder to keep his gender a secret, even though, just by looking at the toddler one couldn’t tell. This was especially true when Dimitri started to speak and convey thoughts. They had a few close calls, but eventually they were able to evade any suspicion. As soon as Dimitri was able to understand, his parents forced him to keep up the lie. Strict rules were placed upon the young male. For awhile, growing up, he resented this, wished to be able to be who she really was. However, time moved on, and Dimitri soon grew to accept his position, and grateful that he got to learn the duties of men, than the duties of the women. The nuances and greed of his parents he didn’t understand. He was only a child. By the time he was five, his baby brother had been born. His parents were elated, this, surely, would improve their lot in life even more. It was more blessings for both their for their family. Dimitri seemed to envy the little baby, but as soon as lessons for hunting, tracking began, the envy died down. Every dawn, he would go out with the hunters and follow them as they tracked or searched for prey. When they were around bodies of water; he learned how to make traps for fish, or bait the lines to leave out for the day. Despite eagerly absorbing all the information that they offered to him, Dimitri liked to explore on his own. Often gathering other groups of the boys to play in the plains around the area they had made home. While not a big trouble-maker, he could sometimes be found causing a few harmless pranks on others. He didn’t tolerate bullies, and did try his best to make sure everyone felt included one way or another. These leadership qualities started to catch the notice of the elder tribe members. At the age of eight, more responsibility started to be heaped on the young males shoulder. Because of his growing natural charm for leadership, the boy was one of few that were chosen to be groomed for various leader positions inside the tribe. The parents couldn’t believe their luck, their own son, a candidate for a highly-regarded position within the tribe. This, however, started to sit unwell with the eight year old. He was really a she. Lying was one of the abhorred sins of the tribe, and yet his entire life was a lie. He was not worthy. But fear kept his mouth shut. What would happen to them if he outed himself? Outed the lie? His parents said that they would die, that he would die as was ‘custom.’ By the time he was nine, his little sister had graced them with her presence. While his brother had been raised with childless and his parents, his sister, once her mother was no longer needed, was more or less given to the care of babysitters for the better part of the day. As he grew, and began to learn more about his customs, and laws, he realized just what he was getting into. He was stuck and fear kept him playing along. Even as puberty hit, and new problems arose for the young one, he faced them. He rose to the challenge, keeping his feet on the selected path that his parents had set for him. Perhaps if he did gain the role of leadership (As he was a much favorite among the clan), he could slowly start to enact changes between the genders. Perhaps, not all at once, and not so drastically, but he could start the tribe down a more well-rounded society; much like those he had heard rumors of in the greater lands of nyushi. Already, it was clear he valued everyone almost as equals, asking others of opinions, and challenging those who disapproved. Mainly, he found those resistance in the elderly tribe members, those heavily valuing tradition. Others were a mixed bag. Years passed, and he continued to prove himself with every test given to him. His twelfth year came upon him. One more year to prove himself and then he would have his official ceremony into being a man. Amongst this rite of passage, he would be then settled into his path, where they would streamline his knowledge so that when the time came, he could take over the leadership roles. It was the highest honor to be chosen to be the successor for the leader of the tribe. Fortune had, indeed, smiled upon him and his family. He threw himself wholeheartedly into the year of tests and trials. He even worked at the spiritual tasks set before him by their shaman leader with fervor; learning the rituals for their gods. The eve of his ceremony was spent in celebration. A large feast had been prepared with the whole village helping out and preparing a week before. Dimitri spent the day on a spiritual trek, traversing the wild, following and tracking--yet only to observe. When he returned, he passed on what he had learned to his elders. As twilight began to fall, his parents gave him his ceremonial dress. They spent an hour etching the black tattoo into his skin, the symbol of the sun god, and of the hunt, for strength, and wisdom, of life. And then, the festivities began. Drinking, partying, dancing, praising their gods and the likes ensued. Demetri had a wonderful time, being able to join in in some of the activities he had only witnessed from afar. Everything was in his honor. But, his fortune had run dry, and in the eyes of his tribe, he had angered the gods. Drink is a heavy drug when taken for the first time. Inhibitions lowered, his carefully shielded secret became known to their tribe. Instantly, he was dragged and thrown in a cell. he shouldn’t have drank any of it. he shouldn’t have have been up for the challenge, to walk across the hot coals and let the others pick him up causing the ceremonial dress that had been so carefully attached, slipp off, revealing to all his secret. His family was in shame and The trials lasted even longer the feast itself it seemed like. His worst fears had come true. Everything his parents had said would come to pass. Of course, in truth, if they had come clean earlier in his life the punishment would not have been so severe. But the fact that he continued--no matter the reasons, the fear and manipulative nature of his parents-- secured the noose around his neck. He could see it swing in his nightmares. Everyone who had once respected, now alienated him, and his family. The day of his sentence marked him even more a traitor. The hunters returned too early, screaming- trying to get the tribe to move as a tainted pair showed up. It wrecked havoc upon the small tribe, playing with the poor villages as it ran through. Though, the leader of the tribe took courage. Surely, this beast, the devil had been brought because of the shame that had been brought upon them. Standing as tall as he could before the demon, he caught his attention. The beast paused, and they spoke. The beast was on a hunt, and had decided, surely, there was something of benefit the tribe could give to him? He managed to strike a deal--they would willing give Dimitri to the demon, for he would be dead either way, in the tribes eyes. In return, the beast would leave. With a laugh, and one last tent destroyed, Dimitri, tied and bound, left his tribe, his family, behind. The flight terrified him. Having never been upon anything larger than a horse, he thought that death would be far better than this. And indeed, the pair had had plans to kill him--perhaps after killing and torturing him--but the shoved that aside in favor of throwing him to the ground in the middle of nesting mothers. The tainteds were soon expected to have new hatchlings, and of course bondeds were needed to begin with. The dragon kept him literally in his clutches. Whenever he wasn’t hunting for his mate; Dimitri was tied up, kept near. Fear kept him from trying to escape--how could he? A sheep amongst the wolves stood no chance in living. Time melted, and by the time the eggs began to shake, Dimitri looked like a zombie--the pair only feeding him enough to keep him alive; but not enough to be satisfied. Others were thrown into the pit, and the eggs began to crack. he watched, still wearing the shredded ceremonial dress that he had been in when he had been jailed. Children were mauled, and killed by their bondeds if they weren’t worthy enough. Those, however, had had a crystal given to him by the strange, even more demonic-looking lord. It was the start of the bad luck that followed him. The tainted demon lord, with a flick of his paw and a wicked grin on his face,tossed him a Crystal, a tear drop of dark mexican fire opal landed at his feet. He stared at it, before trying to back-pedal away from it. In doing so, he bumped into another hatchling, who decided that he didn’t like the sudden breach of space and turned fang and claw onto the poor male. Pain racked through him as his shoulder and front were torn, shredded by tooth and claw--before something threw the other, more larger hatchling off. When the quarrel was finished, the other dragon stood before him, And giggled through the grinning fox-like mask. And so, the pair entered training. It turned out to be a horrific experience for the thirteen year old. While he excelled in hunting/tracking--he failed other lessons. And failure was not an option for the tainted army. Whenever he failed, punishments of varying degrees were inflicted upon either him, or both of them. Being locked up--beaten- tortured, it didn’t matter. He would bend to their lord’s will. The alien influence in his mind locked onto the fear, and through it began to warp him. loyalty would be assured. Inari didn’t help much with her forgetful nature, but she did her lessons well enough that it was mostly only him. When she was included, she made sure to voice her displeasure with her own rider. Oddly enough, it was the dragon that, if only to keep her rider useful to her (because then what would she do? She sort of liked having someone do things for her when she didn’t want to), was the balm in the storm. Despite being terrified of her as well, he kept close to her. He would listen to her, and occasionally even talk with her. He could, at least trust that the ruin would not kill him, would not allow others to kill him outright. Injuries, insults or other things were fair game, but as long as he could walk and talk, it didn’t truly matter what came to pass. Thankfully, training only lasted for barely a year. The ruin towered over her rider, and it was the only solace that he could find in the destruction of his life. They could hold somewhat of a conversation without him breaking into a sniveling mess, and he had found a shaky ground of where he stood with the ruin. But there was a war to fight, Thrown into a shell, and commanded to fight, Dimitri did. He found no enjoyment with it, found no enjoyment of killing, or torturing others. Fear drove him to do it. There was no escape. He had even tried to defect, tried to leave his dragon and run; Perhaps the sekkains had ways of healing the ‘tainted.’ Perhaps they could do that to him. That had been a mistake. Their dark lord knew, always knew. Even Inari couldn’t protect him as they dragged him away and tortured him. For months, he was kept alive--beaten and and then he was broken. He came back, even worse than he had before. Barely alive, Inari managed to nurse him back into a state of relative use for her. For once, the broken male was glad to see the dragon, the only thing close to a friend that he had. She had never truly harmed him--even her games or playing with his fears; she made sure he lived. They obeyed, He made sure of it. Any order, any directive was completed, on time and perfected. No margin for error given and Even Inari had the same loyalty given. One particular fight, in trying to take the academy (which, thank gods for his sanity, was taken), he fell from the back of his dragon, the saddle having been torn by dragon claw. He fell, hitting the ground. The forces came at him swiftly, but with a broken, bleeding leg, there was nothing he could do--here he was surely to die--release would be given to him--only to be rescued by the green-smoked Ruin. Before that, though, a Dire had managed to dig it’s teeth into the leg. The ruin managed to kill the dire, and took off. It took months and for awhile, it looked like the gnarly flesh would have to be amputated. While he healed, they held up in the fang mountains, only doing small tasks and other assignments that were needed while he recuperated. Instead of being hurled back into a wing, after he could walk and function, they chose to scout ahead--rely information, spy if they were able. The poor male did everything, but it seemed his gods had not forgiven him. He was ambushed, alone in a town. When they realized, he was a she, they, of course had their way with poor male. It didn’t take long for the Ruin to find him, and for him to kill them as they ran, but the damage had already taken it’s toll on the rider. They threw themselves back in missions, however, three months later he found himself carrying child. He carried it through term, and then left it abandoned at a doorstep in a town. It surprised both dragon and rider that he had managed to keep it alive during pregnancy. Whether the child survived or not, they did not care. They had a war to fight--they needed to survive. Thankfully, his figure hadn’t changed much, and whatever he had gained during the impromptu child, had been lost, and he returned to his normal weight. The only thing that happened, perhaps, was that his breasts didn’t return to their original size, but even without being bound, they barely showed in the loose clothing. With hormones destabilizing and stabilizing from the changes, he suffered from postpartum depression. More easier to snap at his dragon, withdrawn and quiet, he frustrated his dragon. At 16, he should be a prime warrior than he was before, yet here he moped. Inari scoffed, and disappeared for a few days. Dimitri, slightly freaked by the disappearance of her, hid himself away. When she returned, she ignored any and all questions. Instead, she dropped a basket in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and opened it. A small nest of eggs looked to have been gathered and carefully stuffed into the makeshift basket and linens. However, as he, oddly took care of them, (more at behest of his dragon, than anything) only one of the eggs had hatched. A small bird, with odd coloration. Stunned as the thing immediately made him the mother, he finally got an answer out of the ruin. She had gone around, collecting eggs from random nests. She had tried to gather other live pets for her to choose from, but they either died, or managed to escape. It was sheer utter luck that one of the eggs happened to be a Phoenix, and survived. He took the time and patience to raise and train it. He can use it to hunt, to send messages, track and even do tricks. Outside of his dragon, it is the only thing he cares for. After awhile, they threw themselves back into the fight. Time became a blur, they fought, slept, healed, fought some more. At the age of 25, Dimitri and his dragon were on the hunt for candidates. Their dark lord required it, and they needn’t bring a whole lot. One or two would do. It was on such a trip that he came across a small party, with a small group of kids. Hunters out hunting . Once the fox dragon had landed, most of the party had fled, gathering the kids and disappearing into the thin brush. Only one remained, and Dimitri halted his dragon from following the rest. This one...this one male who stood before him looked familiar. Hopping off the dragon, he stepped to stand in front of the male who did his best to hide the fear from the pair. For the first time in over 10 years, he stood outside the shadow of his dragon. Yet, perhaps, it was best that he had stayed here. It took a moment, but both brothers finally recognized each other. At first, there was silence. Dimitri...tried to have a civil conversation, but it erupted into a fight. Harsh words spat into his face, and eventually, a fight ensued. No one is sure who started it officially, but the words, the accusations and hatred, fear that had been thrown in Dimitir’s face struck a bone. But with no use with the guilt, the fault, they carried on, despite how shaken he was. It had been his fault, his brother said, that their parents were outcasted, and the rest of the siblings adopted out. Even if they were clear of the blame, the village still eyed them with wary glances. It was a stain on their family name. Before they left, Dimitri collected items off the corpse: the staff that would have once been his, a necklace and a few odds and ends that he squirreled away. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last time he would find something that reminded him of the good times, the life that he could have had. Inari had long since given up trying to break his collecting habit; he always managed to find a way to do it anyways. The Battle raged on. Just when it looked like they were going to win, the tides turned. The sekkains managed to capture their dark lord, effectively ending his control over his forces. They were scattered. Some fled, others were captured, fought or killed. Some defected if able. They themselves witnessed the fall, before they fled. Nobody bothered to stop them. nobody cared. It was them and them alone. Dimitri didn’t know what to do with himself. For so long the dark lord had been in his mind, twisting his thoughts and memories and now...now it was just himself and the imperfect bond between Himself and the fox. Inari found a suitable shack buried away in the fang mountains, with caves to nest herself. There, they holed up. Dimitri feared stepping foot outside of the grounds. Surely, this was a dream, they would be called back to action. But they didn’t, nothing happened. Some tainted pairs appeared here and there, some friendly or not, but they were left to their own devices for the most part. It took wheedling and other nuances for the Ruin to convince her rider that all was well for the most part. Eventually the fear faded to a back-burner. He began to pick up the pieces, unsure of what to do now. He began to travel more. A stranger with a Phoenix, flitting in and out of towns that almost always suffered some form of bad luck after his departure. Whether it was intentional or not, it was hard to tell. It had always been there during the war, ruin or failed crops would somehow befall the people, or it would fall upon himself. It was, however, only because things had more or less settled down, that the rider had started to see a trend, and perhaps only because he realized that it was probably his own dragon that somehow seeded it. Her superstitious nature had not failed her in the years they had been bonded. Whispers of the new queen reached their ears, of course, they didn’t expect the seat of power to remain vacant for long, and for the first tainted hatching that served without the dark lord, they appeared out of the fang mountains. With barely interested eyes, they watched as they called upon the very enemies that they had fought against. With an entourage, the glaringly bright dragon gave out crystals and the hellions hatched. Fear poked at him, nagging back in his mind, what did this mean for them? Of course, peace would be hard to find, and they kept themselves in the loop--offered them their service if needed. The new toxic queen was new, sure, but experience, pain, fear kept him from underestimating anything, and anyone in a leadership role. Still, even underneath the new leadership, they are aimless. When the new fortress was unveiled, along with the nagging sensation that something was lurking in the back of their minds, they returned. It was not the full control that they had grown up with, but it simmered in the back of their mind. And frightened the male even more. However, even if there were rumors that the sekkain could heal tainted, Dimitri would never try it. Inari would never consider it either. Eventually, they moved from the mountains to the new fortress, though He keeps the shack and other lair when they both need the space. Pet(s): ![]() Male Fire Phoenix By the name of Ember. Ember has the build of an osprey. He is sleek, and agile in flight. His main coloration is a dark black.While, at the tips of his feathers, especially in his wing feathers, are a dark red. His tail-tips have some striations of red as well as the rest of his body. cool-headed; aloof; intelligent The Dragon Name: Inari Age: 20 Gender: Female Element: Ruin Appearance: By meWIPPIC *This is not complete and not as dark as she should be, I think. . the red base is a tad darker. Just let me know if this is ok or if it needs to be tweaked more. BY TWILIGHT By Chirp BY semp Inari is a dragon to be admired. Lengthy, yet muscled lets put her at an twenty feet high, yet at an odd number of 75 long, perhaps 76 if you count the feathers on her tail. By no means, does this ruin have any fat or unnecessary pudge to her. While, probably not entirely healthy or normal weight, her ribcage barely protrudes from her form, highlighted by the bright markings. Inari sits at a mean of strength and speed. While, her wings and form are built for agility, she does have the muscles if she needs it. Akin to her ruin’s breed, her mask is a fixed to her spine. The mainly bone white mask is in the shape of a Kitsune mask. Instead of a gaping maw, her mouth is closed, though, a gap does form a grin, settled more towards the back of her maw. Two sets of eye-sockets are shaped in small teardrops, easy for the five sets of teal eyes to move about as she wills, or to focus on a single point. Forming around her eyes are bright red markings. These markings appear on her mask: a circle on her forehead, with smaller circles in the peripherals of the larger one, and along her upper jaw a comet-like stripe. The bottom part of her jaw hosts a circle at the back-edge, two stripes before and the tip of her jaw a solid square of red. Her two sets of horns boast a red stripe or two, and the first one set below her fox like ears curl down before slightly sweeping back. The second pair beneath it, curls back before pointing forward, much like a bulls. Sprouting from the top of her head, between her ears, are medium length quills that resemble coarse fur. It coats her entire neck, before shortening into barely perceivable strands on the rest of her body. The fur picks up briefly at the tail before turning into feathers, that grow longer till the end. Two feathers stream along behind it. Not much in the way of scars truly warp her scales, though, she isn’t without a few. They are just harder to see though, feeling for them would be easier to notice them as they are devoid of the tiny bristle like quills that cover the rest of her body. Where the fur meets her shoulder, it turns into feathers, short ones that soon meld into her first set of wings. They also wrap around her neck and cover part of her upper chest, stopping just between her legs, like a shawl. From her shoulders, balance two long streamer feathers that mimic the ones on her tail. True to her breed, she sports three sets of wings. Two full sized wings, balanced evenly on her lithe frame, and the third set, which is not as large and more used as a balancing pair, is located at the beginnings of her tail. These wings are more based off a barn swallows build, and allows for faster maneuverability and speed in the air. Deep, diluted, blood red is her main coloration, her quills and most of her feathers appearing to have been dipped and stained in the liquid. The feathers around her neck however, are a deep dark red that look to be black, though the edges of these feathers and her quills are tipped in slightly tarnished silver. Brighter red markings appear, like tiger stripes, on her neck, on her shoulders, and are striped on her ribcage and wing bones, though these are more embellishments, and are only in sets of two or three. The bright red markings on her tail feathers swirl more than stripe. Her tail feathers turn into a darker red, the tips slightly lighter than the feathers. Her tail streamers are a brighter red dipped in silver, than the rest of her body. With a deeper dot in the middle of these floating feathers, the same pattern can be found on the streamers from her shoulder. Her wings transition from a slightly brighter red to a darker red intermittently. Majorly, the outside, and inside of the wings are more of a rusty blood red, while the inside and most of the feather tips are the same brighter red, yet some of the tips darken further. Flecks of lighter red can be seen on the darker patches, adding a more shimmering look to the feathers, but what really catches the eye is the swath of slightly tarnished, rusty, silver that starts towards the beginnings of a feather shaft in patches, before ending at the tips in a swirling swath. The tarnished silver coloration is still not as shiny as metal, and is diluted. This pattern is somewhat mirrored on all three wings, however the top side of the wings do not share this pattern. They are more the rusty blood red of her body, though there are some flecks of tarnished silver or slightly brighter reds in the feathers. Her Swirling mist that her breed is known for is a dark green. This swirling mist pools from her feathers, tail, and her mask, especially from the gap that is the grin forever etched into her face. She can manipulate these into animals, or people at will if she wanted to, or if she feels like getting more emotion across, however, she prefers to just let it swirl in miscellaneous demon-shaped forms that seemingly change from person to person. Personality: Flirtatious, Superstitious, Forgetful At first impression, this dragon could be seen as a waste of time, or not as fearful as many of her counterparts. She flirts with reckless abandon, sometimes to the point of abrasively groaning, to the hidden subtleties. Even when she isn’t flirting, there is a seductive tinge to whatever she does. She doesn’t seem to care who or sometimes, what the other is--though if she does flirt with humans it’s more to garner them to what she wants or as her ‘plaything.’ She isn’t very tactile however, and doesn’t like being touched without her permission. Any attempt from anyone usually results in a face full of mist or claws. The only person she lets touch her at any given time would be her rider, and then only because she doesn’t want the young male to leave. She is the ball to his chain. While possessive of her rider, she doesn’t care who does what with him as long as he lives and is able to be useful to the Ruin. The only time the ruin reaches out to protect him is when his life is in danger. When she isn’t flirting or dallying around, Inari has some...interesting views on life. She is highly superstitious, of anything and everything. Things like black cat crosses your path, bad or good luck will follow are some. But some things, are quite non-traditional. Some things can only be done on certain days, or certain things can’t be touched for instance. Full moons and half-moons are her favorite times to kill, flirt or do absolutely nothing at all, depending. However, her wives tales could be ones that she made up, or true ones that circulate between the small villages that she has come across. Sometimes she believes these so profusely that she will go out of her way to avoid said omens or to enact whatever will ‘reverse’ the ‘curse, so to speak. Or to enact these 'curses' on whomever happens to do it or believe in the wives tale. It’s a pleasure to do this--especially if the other isn’t as superstitious as her--and she will do her best to set in motion to make it seem like her omen came true. It is never pleasant when she does this, not for her rider or for anyone. Most of his bad luck that follows him into a town, or to him, is from her, directly or indirectly. Another good way to sort of get on her ‘good’ side, would be to tell her a wives-tale or superstition (either of the top of your head, or one that you actually know of one) that she hasn’t heard of. she might listen and she might spare you. But the catch is, you have to sell it right, or it’s got to interest her. Otherwise, your best bet might just to offer her sweets and hope that she forgets about you or gets bored. Another thing about the dragon is her faulty memory. If it’s not something of interest, or not processed into long-term memory, she just...forgets. Simple tasks, tidbits of information, doesn’t stick well with the ruin, and she seems to not really care about this--which could be another endless source of frustration for the rider as she could just easily forget where he is or what she wanted him to do or what they were doing there to begin with. Sometimes, if a favor is asked of them it is better make the ruin repeat it, or just make Dimitri remember. She forgets where she puts things and can sometimes be distracted in mid-thought, occasionally forgetting what she was talking about. User Information Username: Silverfeather Contact: set the kittens free! Yourself: Help. How did you find Sekkai? Put on your WARPAINT Fun note: 13 pages 7080 words Via google docs. |
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| CloakAndDagger | Jun 10 2015, 02:07 PM Post #2 |
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THE DUNGEON MASTER
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