GrinningFox » Lair » Promethium

Promethium

(#18551082)

Level 7 Mirror

Familiar

Pinpush Mirror Doll

Energy: 43/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.51 m

Wingspan

3.75 m

Weight

720.22 kg

Genetics

Swamp
Clown

Tangerine
Daub

Blood
Crackle

Hatchday

Nov 19, 2015
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 7 Mirror

EXP: 566 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

Foxhole

Promethium, the little plague zombie, is named for the element. Promethium is radioactive and unstable. The element is named for Promethius, the titan whose eternal punishment is to have his liver eaten by an eagle every day.

He had died. He had been glad to die, as the plague had torn away at him, ripped him to pieces bit by painful bit. He had longed for death, before it had finally come for him. Except... except death had been fleeting. Had showed up and smiled and patted him on the head and then shoved him out of peaceful darkness into...

Into a body consumed by necrotic rot, half held together by bandages colored with old blood. Into a body resting in the same place he'd died, as the rest of the clan had been consumed by the same disease which dug into him like a starving tatterwing on a fresh corpse. Into a body which is somehow both numb and aching, with scattered thoughts and no need for sleep or water but such hunger.

He wonders, as he forces himself out of the tomb his clan's lair had become (for he cannot stay there, not with the silent, still company of those lucky enough to stay dead), why him? Of all of those which had become sick, which had died, why had he been the only one to be brought back to this unlife? It is not a question which the gods see fit to answer.

(Surely this was some error which will soon be fixed and he will be left to decay in peace?)

Time passes, in ways which he has trouble marking. He does not stop moving, cannot seem to stop moving, for exhaustion is as elusive as the longed for grave but hunger… oh, hunger is never ceasing. He had always had a mirror's cheerful bloodlust, but never such desperation for… for something, for anything to fill the pit his stomach seems to have become. He is forced to stop now and again to retie the bandages which are keeping the pieces of him together (and what would happen, if he didn't? But he dreads that thought, dreads the idea of being fallen pieces of a death-refused whole) but nothing else seems pressing. He feels neither cold nor heat as he crosses the terrain, a straight line from point A to an unknown B.

He feels nothing really, but driving hunger and an ever present ache in every fiber of his being. He does not eat. He does not sleep. He simply walks and eats whatever is unfortunate enough to cross his path. (And he hopes, with every step, that he will be allowed to rest, that his future is something other than what his present is)

Lore by Moriarty

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

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