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Furor : Female Disruption : Blood
Topic Started: Jan 3 2017, 07:39 PM (90 Views)
CoiledDragon
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Egg
Character Number: 4

[align=center]Posted Image
by Balu[/align]

Name- Furor.

Age- 12 (as of 3300)

Gender- Female

Element- Disruption

Appearance-
A deadly being, seemingly born of shadows and darkness, Furor has the bulk and size to match her headstrong, voracious personality. At one hundred and fifty feet, she is easily one of, if not the largest female Disruption, standing toe to toe with even the largest of males with ease. A smaller sized head, somewhat refined if not for the lurid grin that curves her massive jaws, sports a single forward jutting horn that extends outward from her muzzle, daring any enemy to come near enough to get impaled, while on either side of her face the scythe-like horns curl back, then forwards to add further to her menacing aura. The first of the three begins at almost the end of her muzzle, just behind her nose, a second grows from where her eyes would be, while a third stems from the upper curve of her jaw, continuing the line of the bone into a wicked arch. The facial scales are smooth and lay flat on one another, deceptive considering that were a person to rub their hand the wrong way against them, they'd feel the knife-sharp edge at each.

Jagged, long fangs fill her maw in a double row, capable of tearing anything that enters her mouth to pieces, while tusks at the near back of her mouth curl up and out, miniature replicas of her horns, to flash in any light. Hidden behind the curve of tusk on the left hand side is her crystal, embedded in cheek and jawbone. A set of interconnected spherical diamonds, the white gems flash with an inner fire all their own, flickering with ice blue and flame red. The longer and thicker the tusk grows, the more hidden her crystal becomes, which might just save her from getting it cracked or broken. The gems themselves are oddly light and beautiful for so dark a being, but their hypnotic, entrancing quality, as well as their cold isolation, prove that the choice isn't odd at all.

From head to torso, Furor's body bulges in a mass of muscle, her neck thick with strength and covered with stylized scales capable of lifting up in waves to produce a deafening and breath-stealing sonic blast, and while some might consider this swell of muscle masculine, she somehow pulls it off. From her chest, Furor's body sways into svelte curves along her fore and hind legs, her diaphragm almost elegantly blending into her hind quarters before smoothly flowing into a tremendous tail the length of her entire main body itself. Thick in its own right, the appendage somehow maintains a stunningly classic line, with the same stylized scales as is found on her body, before ending in the typical three prongs, a single smaller upper hook facing towards her body, while two lower hooks jut down and away, proving that her tail is just as much a weapon as the rest of her body, a wicked piece of equipment capable of holding or rending a foe as easily as talons or claws. The legs of this dragoness fit the rest of her shape, forelegs shorter and beefier than the hind, with wickedly curved silver claws and long, backwards facing spikes, while her wings, large enough and powerful enough to hold up her massive size, are thick with sail, sails which gleam interestingly. This is due to the blade-sharp nature of the frontal sail, common to all females of her species, and its one of the weapons Furor prizes most, and she'll commonly be seen whipping her wings around in her anger, cutting apart anything that dares near, or the occasional hapless tree or rock.

Personality-
Furor's size is matched only by her attitude and personality. Destined to be a general or other such leader in her Lord's army, Furor cares nothing for the weak except as stepping stones to power, and the strong as those who can help her reach that power, or try to stop her from attaining it. Other dragons are pawns, prey, or wary allies while humans, are nothing more than fodder or, at the very best, slaves. It might have helped had she been dim-witted but this Disruption is cruelly capable of doing whatever it takes to get what she wants, from playing the weak to fool her enemy on to out right attacks or assassinations. This female is determined to make her way to the top no matter who or what she has to step on, or what allies and or enemies she has to make on her way there. Thus the Taint are left with a dragoness powerful enough to rise rapidly in the ranks, yet smart enough to attain and hold that position while others might fail and fall.

Gluttonous for power, beauty, gems, food... You name it, Furor has room for more, and it can be a great weakness, as well as an asset. Her lair, hidden from most, is filled with spoils of her conquests from the occasional bone of a dead enemy (or even a live one if she can manage to snag a limb, her favorite) to piles of gemstones from the many raids she so loves to go on. This of course has grown over time, and as a hatchling she merely determined it well within her rights to be graced with gemstones and jewelry, often demanding to have necklaces or rings placed about her horns or throat, even if she cannot see their colors, or to only have the most sumptuous bedding and best rooms wherever she goes. Not really picky, as long as she has a lot of just about anything she can get her claws on she's happy, for a while. Sometimes this greed for material things leads to her being blind to someone's true nature, and she can, though not easily, be swayed by a mass amount of items from food to pretty rocks, anything she can hoard.

Not an easy dragoness to get along with, Furor's domineering attitude rubs many the wrong way, not that she truly cares. Its nearly frightening just how quickly she grabs attention as soon as she walks into any area, and takes control of the situation as soon as she can. Be it battlefield or a simple meeting, Furor is front and center in the conversation, backing up her words with a slash of her sharp-edged wings or deathly rattle of her scales. A frightening power born only recently, Furor is sure to bolster the Tainted ranks with her own brand of... Leadership.

Partner: Corren DeLuce (Deceased)

Rank: Blood

History:

Furor knew she was destined for greatness; it was in her blood. The beastly daughter of a Viral rank Mycotic and lower ranked but admired Disruption, she came into this world harming those who poked too close, and that was how she lived her life. Bend to her rules, or be broken by them. Her rider was one who saw the potential in her and shared her hunger for power and to climb the ranks of the tainted army as the darkness settled in his heart. Of course, she had chosen him, he was perfect. Or so she thought.

For their first year, the freshly bonded pair stayed within the confines of the island, learning through the harsh lessons what it meant to be tainted. As if Furor wasn't born with the innate knowledge herself. Bloodshed came naturally, as did brutality. Morality was naught but a weakness, as was compassion. Strike fast, swift, and without mercy. As they were brought into the throes of war, they enacted the practice, swiftly ending the lives of many Sekkain whelps who attempted to fight back. The pair began as Bloods, fighting on the ground with the mighty earths and tearing down the behemoths that the Sekkaians erected before them, and there was hope for them to rise in rank. Even after a few battles, it was obvious Furor and Corren had skill on the field. It seemed to be so perfect, the opportunity there and ripe for the taking.

And then the Tainted Lord fell. With his loss, Furor lost not one mighty influence in her life, but two. Her mother, Kreen, had a peculiar human she had attached to, about as right in the head as the other humans among their ranks. But, he had broken on the Lords fall. Furor didn't pay it any mind at first; why should she? He was merely a gnat in her grand scheme of achieving greatness! Surely her mother would see he needed to be squished before he did something foolish. But it seemed Kreen had other plans, taking her own life along with her rider and becoming a corpse for the scavengers to pick at. Furor did not grieve.

But it was hard to ignore how Corren was acting, how lost he seemed to have become. Was it merely an effect of the mighty loss the tainted were feeling? Or was he as ill as the human her mother had so absurdly chosen? Furor watched, a hovering giant as her partner began to spiral, as terror grew in his tiny heart. She would not make the same mistake as her mother. Corren was eaten by Furor herself, a final way of keeping him with her while halting him from getting in the way of her plans. No one would stop her from greatness, not even the rider she had chosen.

The following years were difficult for the Disruption as she had hoped to slide into the clutter of aspiring leadership that the tainted needed. But, it seemed, there was already a successor planned. They desired another to fill the slate, and she would sneer in contempt and begrudgingly accept the new leader. She resides among the halls of the tainted islands own twisted academy, ready now to pull herself out of her hovel of treasures (where she sulked, though she would not admit it) and begin, once more, to rise the ranks and crush Sekkaian skull.

Hatching Scene-
Quote:
 
Unholy Leviathans of the deep, morbid wraiths and sultry earthen matriarchs had all been gratified with the sight of their cursed offspring unveiled before the lofty eyes of heir Lord, their successes bayed from a thousand jubilant throats into the teeming skies above until the trees shook from the clamor. It was only right that the chaotic spawn of Kreen and Corrioth should be next to show signs of vitality by jerking enthusiastically within their jumbled and soggy nests. It was the smooth, alien disc that was placed further away from its parents that took to life more vigorously than its sibling. At first it merely trembled in its hollow, sending ripples spiraling out in all directions across the swamp, the miniscule waves travelling for longer than their natural lifespans as their puppeteer used them like wet tendrils to feel the surrounding territory. Pot holes and bubbling chains of gas created devilishly tricky labyrinths beneath the spongy layer of vegetative material, and the putrefying husks of animals made for impassible fortifications in some areas. But these mundane horrors were no match for the careful sensory explorations of the vibrating disc. It settled down once again as if satisfied by what it had found, the tremors deepening and becoming more akin to the metallic tang of a gong though the egg itself move only in slow circuits.

It might have seemed a dull, if hypnotic, way to announce its presence, but any Taint who was familiar with the sightless behemoths who laid such eggs had the good sense to guard their wandering eyes in the next few minutes. The winding silver striations that broke up the otherwise mossy colouration of the egg flickered briefly as they caught and reflected whatever dull light penetrated the murk. The patterns had been pushed outwards into delicate ridges by some subtle force that was growing inside, the same force that was pushing away some of the less-waterlogged debris that was littered around its nesting-site. The passing seconds were palpable and agonizing as the noise increased by degrees, rising sluggishly like mercury inside a thermometer until an inevitable climax would burst the glass bulb.

And burst was exactly the way to describe it. With no warning the sable shell detonated in a cold surge of air and brassy noise, the shattered pieces of calcium flung anywhere they would do the most damage. The mother, watching carefully over her brood, would have escaped harm as a virtue of the impenetrable scales, black as jet, that her breed wore with smug pride. Her offspring couldn't harm her, but it did manage to bring yowls of pain from at least two frustratingly idiotic beasts who hadn't withdrawn their noses in time and now sported stinging gashes for their stupidity. The missiles, invisible in the oppressive shadow of their Lord, had flown with uncanny accuracy that could only come from the twisted Chaos genes that filled a Disruption's blood. Mere seconds after her arrival, the stout little Disruption who postured arrogantly in the crater she had created had managed to shed blood for her Lord's delight. It had been her nature rather than intent that guided the flying daggers, but she would take all the glory for it none the less.

"Stupid whelps who come too close will get their tongue cut out! Let that be a warning to you filthy mongrels. I am Furor! "

Thrusting her powerful shoulders and neck forward she marched out the deadly gates formed by the monolithic talons of her parents, for all the world looking as though she led all the Tainted legion behind her. Her four wings were spread wide above her, the splintered claws tearing vengefully at the air and the razor-sharp membrane fluttering in the breeze created by their Lord's hellish breaths. She was beautiful and immense, perhaps larger than a male of her kind would normally be if not for the svelte curves and arches of her waist. She tipped her horned face to the sky screamed for all the legion to hear, the excitement of her hellish song picked up and replicated in a thousand rotten gullets until it swelled to a fever-pitch of atrocious noise. Only when the pandemonium had reached infernal proportions did she let her chin fall and speak in a odious whisper to the sweet villain she had chosen.

"You see how quick they are to howl my name in praise? To damn themselves in the eyes of the Lord in favor of me? So soft and susceptible they are.. I am power and vigor and influence!  I am the queen you have been waiting for, my love.. "

[align=center]Disruption Egg
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Furor
Female
(Disruption Kreen x Mycotic Corrioth)
Power-hungry, Gluttonous, Domineering
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