Humerus

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"Notice me Plaguebringer!"

June 19, Year 33

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Because of the Ship's convenient location at an indeterminate moving point in the deepest recesses of the Abiding Boneyard, Humerus has decided to open a bed and breakfast. He predicts that this venture will be both lucrative and culturally enriching, and has already invented a traditional breakfast tray for Wormix to offer to guests.

Unsurprisingly, the Casa del Ship has become a popular honeymoon spot for nesting dragons of all elements. Survivors give five stars and describe their stay as providing "…the full Plague experience."

June 16, Year 29

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It used to be that Humerus didn't know what to do in life. Now he's full of ideas.

He's watched his rubbled hideaway be built up into a flailing amber-clay-house-meat-tree… ship… thing? He's watched it physically uproot itself and stumble into the Boneyard. He's discovered that he has a talent for persuasion. He doesn't totally get it himself, but one time he actually convinced a ghost that it didn't exist. And then it went poof and disappeared, just like Meatheart was betting it would. He convinced a coppercoil creeper that zero was one. He's even convinced himself that he's clever.

Humerus has got it into his head to turn his lair into a breakaway utopia where nobody has to work (unless they want to), everybody likes everybody else (unless they'd rather not), and the facts are whatever you want them to be (which is whatever he wants them to be). He declared Year Zero to begin on the day he ran away from home and declared their lair a Ship of which he is Cap'n. The "of Fools" part was added by outside observers.

He's always looking for new recruits, but holding on to them is another matter. Whenever he's feeling especially down and thinking every dragon on Sornieth is against him he'll start pining for the Plaguebringer again and join or organize big exaltation rallies to get her attention. It's never enough to get her attention.

In spite of his rhetorical skills, Humerus just isn't as personable as Bloodsore. It often happens that he'll ensnare a dragon into joining the crew only for them to end up loyal to her instead, even with the tries-to-eat-them thing. But the two of them have too much history for him to really want to do anything about it.

June 9, Year 10

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For awhile now Humerus has been visiting a series of graceful and knowledgeable dragons, learning bit by bit the art of bio-magic. Surprisingly he's become halfway competent at healing and encouraging plants to grow, albeit only the meaty plague-plants of the Wasteland. Getting those unnatural things to rally is easy- with his help, the delicate patchwork of amber and clay huts that is his clan's home has become bound within a bunker of pulsing, twining, fleshy growth. On the other hand, the dragon flesh he mends is never quite the same twice, but nobody here seems to mind.

May 18, Year 0

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A clan in the flyover part of the Boneyards is now short one more fledgeling. He wasn't really one of theirs anyway, just a halfwit from a scavenged egg, liked talking nonsense. Didn't like doing things the right way. He dropped out of what passed for a school around there and wandered into the butthole of the wilderness, where he should've died.

While looking unsuccessfully for food, Humerus stumbled on a ghost town inhabited by a single critically ill fae. More out of curiosity than strategy, he used what little knowledge he had of healing and won himself a companion who could catch bugs to eat. And so both of their lives were saved by that unlikely meeting. After many awkward conversations, it became apparent that the female fae was speechless and feral. And so Humerus named her Bloodsore. He likes naming things. He named his tail Wormsly.

But the wonder of wonders is how the two of them get along. Humerus has always liked to make up his own rules as much as like he likes to make up his own facts. Bloodsore raises no objections to his eccentricities, just gargles and froths and tries to eat him. Maybe together they can carve out a little slice of paradise in the plague-ridden rubble.

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Maybe he's compensating for something.