Cicada
(#100789543)
Level 1 Imperial
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Energy: 0
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Effect
Scene
Measurements
Length
30.95 m
Wingspan
22.11 m
Weight
8823.31 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Flaunt
Flaunt
Latte
Constellation
Constellation
Soil
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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 C I C A D A 
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
GENERATION III ANKH/SCARAB’S LINE 
". . . "
H ave you wondered what happens to dreams and memories, so vivid one moment, then gone the next? They become patchy at times, as if they were riddled with holes. It’s as if something lurks, feasting off those fragments until nothing remains. This is the tale of the Barghest, Cicada. |
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The entry is written in faded ink, a date scrawled at the top of the page next to a short title that reads “‘Moth-eaten”. It is the account of one Darius Hoffman regarding a series of strange holes appearing in his various belongings. Have you wondered why your dreams are so hard to remember when you wake up? I know. I hear them at night. When all the lights are off. A faint chewing sound, like small teeth tearing through fabric. It comes right as I’m drifting off to sleep - in the moments before I slip away into a dream. Until recently, there were no indications that the sound was anything more than a figment of my imagination. Then, I began to find the holes. They started off small. I noticed as a pulled a shirt over my head that there was a small tear in the fabric. I didn’t think much of it at the time, perhaps I’d snagged the garment on something. It was entirely plausible in my line of work as a carpenter. I spent many tireless days refurbishing and upholstering old furniture. I retrieved my sewing kit and stitched the hole closed. Good as new. The next day, the hole in my shirt had re-opened. I frowned thinking that my line of thread must have failed before I noticed several more holes randomly spaced throughout the garment. I put out the mothballs that night, but still I heard that strange sound as I fell asleep. The next morning, I couldn’t find the shirt at all. Holes continued to open. It was mostly in fabric items - clothing and blankets. When it began to affect my work as well, I knew I had some kind of infestation that needed to be dealt with. Yet even as I scoured and cleaned, I couldn’t find any traces of the insects I thought must be responsible. It was shortly after that I realized I’d begun to forget my dreams. I didn’t dream every night, but when I did they were always vivid and I had a knack for recalling them. Now, they had - gaps. I would awaken and remember less and less, as if something had chewed holes in those memories just as it did into the cloth. I tried to keep a journal. I’d write down as much of my dreams as I could remember each morning, but even then as I went back through the entries I never recalled even writing them down and as time went on, they became shorter and shorter until I stopped dreaming at all. There are still some entries in the diary. I don’t recall writing them, but they describe strange creatures that visit me. They are dark and inky, yet adorning their faces are a set of frail wings that spread in a plume of dusty gold. They chitter as those wings fan open, a few scraps of tattered cloth falling from their mouths along with fragmented baubles of golden light. I wonder if those are all that remain of my dreams. We attempted to follow up on Darius’ report and found that the carpenter had disappeared the week prior. His home was badly damaged by insects that had eaten through most of his personal items. We identified what remained of a journal, the pages full of holes, the entries mostly illegible. There was what appeared to be a series of images drawn on the latter pages that depicted insect-like limbs and wings fanning out beside long, white teeth.
Layout, lore and artwork by Farallon
Banners by PoisonedPaper
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