PlanetariumPixel » Lair » Millie

Millie

(#15144631)

She/Her || Reevaluating my life choices, BRB

Familiar

Boilback Slink

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.38 m

Wingspan

3.77 m

Weight

632.63 kg

Genetics

Royal
Cherub

Aqua
Flair

Tangerine
Opal

Hatchday

Jul 20, 2015
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Arcane
Uncommon

Level 8 Pearlcatcher

EXP: 6076 / 16009

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

Biography

Millie Diamond
Cis Woman | She/Her | Bisexual | Late Middle Aged | Pirate

About

Millie is the founder of the Diamond Sailors, formerly known as the Diamond Reaches Clan. Although she holds no more formal power on the airship, the old-timers still look up to her as their leader. It wasn't her idea to become pirates, but she likes it well enough.

The newcomers, however, don't get it. This ditzy, airheaded pearlcatcher with as many memory holes as a tundra is some kind of leader? Sure, she's nice and all, but she's a little bit dumb and she spends more time tinkering than anything else.

To be fair, the ditzy thing is kind of a front she puts up. Not all of it - she may be smart but she is kind of an idiot - but she prefers to be perceived as weaker than she is. Her shoddy memory, on the other hand, comes from being born a tundra before transforming into a pearlcatcher later. She has a lot of reminders in her cabin. They don't always help.

It's Millie's fault the Diamond Reaches Clan was destroyed. This is an objective fact. She allowed the atrocities in her clan to happen, turned a deliberate blind eye when someone really should have kept an eye out for safety precautions. And now, their land is cursed. A whole team of gaolers, recently returned to existence, has been working on it but Millie doubts her clan will ever live there again.

│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Trivia

> Millie retains the poor memory of her tundra origins, but that doesn't stop her. She makes up for it with a whole lot of notebooks and a deeply ingrained feeling of regret.
> Nammon is deeply romantically entwined with the Iridescents. At first it had been a mostly one-sided lapdog relationship where she was there only to further their goals, but over time they decided that she was the best thing since sliced bread and now shower her with love and adulation.

> Look, it's not that Nammon doesn't want to be a good parent. However, she's hit the point of having too many children to care. Other people can solve those problems now.
> When it comes to the game of chess, Nammon is next to none with how good she is. That doesn't mean that she doesn't occasionally lose, she just has an extremely high win rate and is always plotting her next move.

│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│
│

Likes
• Roses
• Twilight
• Chess

Dislikes
• Heat
• Brown
• Gambling

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Story

The walls of Nammon’s bedchambers were a faded lavender, lit by a dusty pink chandelier set to the lowest brightness and matching candles floating serenely around the room. Books and other assorted knickknacks sat haphazardly on a myriad of shelves carefully arranged once upon a time. In the center, atop a mattress and pile of pillows made of the softest silk, was Nammon. She was stretched out luxuriously in a pink velvet robe, studying a chess board made of only precious stones. It was apparently a marvel of modern magic – you didn’t need an opponent to play the game.

She was practicing a peculiar little gambit, Emperor’s Gambit was it called? One of those that if done right could trip up even the grandest of grand masters, you know the kind. It was always good to keep an eye for strategy sharp, even if, perhaps, one had no need to keep that eye sharp.

Well, it wasn’t like Nammon had any need to put most of her old skills to use anyways. The scars that marred her hide were from a rougher time back in her youth. There had been none of that in… decades? Centuries? Time was an illusion and Nammon felt no more anchored to it than a feather in a tempest.

Hmmm… oh yes, in this situation the tower needed to go there! Now where was she… ah yes, time. What was time, really, if you lived in a bubble where no one aged around you (all because of space dust and outer gods, dragonmade). Every time she left the castle, there were new faces, new shopkeeps, new grandchildren (and more generations of them, even).

Nammon didn’t leave the castle much anymore.

Instead she lived her life in a haze of luxury, of sweetly scented smoke and wine and the constant clicking of clockwork that held her up. Outer gods who once were dragons and perhaps still were wooed her, not the other way around. She didn’t have to work for anything anymore. Perhaps she never had. Life was, for lack of better words, easy.

Oh, drat, she’d lost the game while lost in her head. No matter, she’d just start again.

It hadn’t been easy when she was young. The Scarred Wasteland was an unforgiving place, even for a child of Vitali blessed with strength to protect. Nammon had spent years developing her own strength at the expense of some of her vitality. She’d learned to heal herself because once she’d struck out on a hunt for her Charge, no one else would. That’s when the scars were made.

Charge… what a strange little notion. It was a Tidelord given gift to protect something, one thing for the rest of your life. A deity-given purpose that would define you forever and ever, no matter what. Cruel, isn’t it? She had only wanted to protect someone, to lend her strength. How awful was it that she hadn’t even had the chance to choose? Granted, she’d probably have chosen the Gaolers if she’d had the option. She’d liked them, quite a bit actually. They were funny and clever behind their stoicisms, and although they were quite capable she’d had more brawn and strategy to keep them safe.

And then she’d left them. No, left was too light a word. Betrayed was better. Nammon had abandoned her elemental deity given purpose and betrayed the Gaolers to rot in a life of luxury and indulge her anti-deity sentiment.

All she’d wanted was a say.

She still had one, if she chose, even in this purposeless, luxurious existence. Her charge hadn’t bothered her since… well, it had been a while. Besides, she had perhaps the most direct in to four extraordinarily powerful sources of cosmic divinity, and they listened to her. Yes, even when she was muleishly digging in her heels or stubbornly bulldozing through carefully laid plans.

But she didn’t think she wanted one anymore.

Oh, lost again. Nammon carefully tapped the gently pulsing pink gemstone at the base of the board and all the pieces righted themselves, ready to be played again. She stared at the board, contemplated, picked up a pawn, and-

“You know,” came a voice of freshly sprouted plants and fine wine, “I heard games are more fun with more players.”

And there was Pink, a being of new life and hedonism, settling down next to her and presenting a hexagonal board with matching pieces. The being that wasn’t quite dragon smiled, wrapping a close approximation of a tail around hers.

“Pink! I… wasn’t expecting you. Why are you here?”
Another voice, this one the celestial song of stars, answered. “We missed you this past meeting. And the ones before that. Your pigheaded obstinacy is a much needed change of pace from the simpering fools. You’ve been lost in your own head too much.”

White was here too? And oh, look, there was the abyssal ocean sweeping over them. Blue took one look at the state of all Nammon’s curios and immediately began righting them, humming in whale song as she did.

And yes, there was Yellow who ticked as she walked, the little gears that made her insides ever moving and yet inexplicably still very, very organic. It seemed she’d been burdened with the food and drink, piles of them in baskets (most likely at Pink’s request).

“You came to cheer me up,” Nammon said, her mouth dry. “All… four of you. Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Of course not!” said Pink, jolly Pink. “You are ours, and must be taken care of. You’ve done enough, love. Let us love you in return.”

“And also show up to the next meeting,” Yellow added, dropping the baskets piled high with delicacies beside the bed. “You see things we don’t. We can’t succeed in overthrowing the elemental shams without you.”

“I suppose not.” Nammon cracked a hint of a smile. The other three Iridescents slithered into bed beside her, wrapping around her like snakes and burying her in their otherworldly bulk. She liked it when they did that. It was a comforting weight that, despite the cosmic nature of its origins, kept her grounded. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my pearl,” murmured Blue. “Anything for you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Relationships

Skyron
Spouse
-words-

Cream
Old Friend
-words-

White
Hated Enemy
-words-

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
⸙ code by wanderlustfaun

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Gallery

- none yet! -

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If you feel that this content violates our Rules & Policies, or Terms of Use, you can send a report to our Flight Rising support team using this window.

Please keep in mind that for player privacy reasons, we will not personally respond to you for this report, but it will be sent to us for review.

0/1000

Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Millie to the service of the Arcanist will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

Do you wish to continue?

Name

Names must be longer than 2 characters.
Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
Names can only contain letters.

Name

Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
Names can only contain letters.