Ananti
(#20924579)
"Can you hear them?"
Carapace
Five-toed Pilco
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.61 m
Wingspan
4.52 m
Weight
733.76 kg
Genetics
Gold
Poison
Poison
Obsidian
Peregrine
Peregrine
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level
STR
115
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
76
INT
5
VIT
17
MND
5
Biography
| fillerte |
 
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| Ananti |
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HHWhat would you do, if even a god could not reach you? Ugly is not quite the correct word to describe Hewned City. Pretty would not be either. It is skeletal, macabre spires made from stone bleached like bone reaching up into a perpetually dark cover, and it is dirty, with broken down, eroded stone crumbled in lifeless heaps. It is broken, with wisps from past centuries floating around, clawing at your throat to let them in, let them breathe again. Perhaps the best word would be forgotten. Growing up in the city has much in common with dying, with no upper power, leader, or parent watching over any of your movements. You grow up strong, for if you do not you will perish. It is not known how you will perish, be it from a stray, wandering enemy, or the cold, or hunger, or even your own stupidity. It is just this, it is just a fact: If you are not strong. You will die. You grow up strong, without any knowledge of what adoration, love, knowledge is. You have no idea, as you spend days and months wandering streets that hold whispers of time before you, before the deities you have never heard of, before the beasts that dig and bite to get the taste of copper, warmth, and life within their endless stomachs. The eyes, dead, cool, closed eyes watch you from the stone. They learn you, just as you ignore them. It is survival. You are nothing more than an animal. Life is nothing but survival, nothing. The lack of light leaves you blind and starving, hungering, and when it finally appears you are ravenous, sinking your teeth into it. Once you might've been something sentient. Now you are nothing more than your bare whims, all thoughts reduced to the day and night cycle of a dead city that has seen the sun once, a thousand years ago. You did not choose this shape, but the smith that molded you did not choose it either. You bite harder, digging into this light. It blinds you, (or does it let you see? You have not known enough to answer this question.) so you close your eyes and sink in further, let the taste of life fill your mouth, coat your tongue. It screams. |
That makes you stop.
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A backstory:
Creatures do not scream in this city. No. They submit, fight, or they die. Silent, they come into this world. Silent they leave it. Words are a precedent that is ignored. The creatures know to speak. They learned it from the whispers that leak from dilapidated and broken buildings, from the ghosts that forget they are dead for days at a time, that return to their resting places with spectral tears coursing down the lengths of sagging, rotten and boney cheeks. Words are known. Screams are not. So when you dig into this light, that hurts, that kisses your skin with an almost gentle warmth, it screams. And you back away from it, the blood of it dripping down from your chin. You are fearful. When you are fearful, you cannot be strong. This is where you will die now, for your strength has left you. For in this city, if you are not strong, you perish. "Are you alright?" The voice asks, looking at you. You see it behind their eyes now, a disease that presents itself as their saving growing. They will be blind eventually. "Are you?" You ask to them, in a voice unused since your birthing screams. They look at you in response, smiling crookedly in the way only future lovers can. Blood is still flowing freely from their wounds, and it is still dripping from your chin with a small splash, the only noise in the airless place. The city around you reaches its skeletal fingers up into the dark sky in prayer. Ruins still fall around you. It is the same as ever. Except it is not. This is the beginning of your end. |
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Exalting Ananti to the service of the Lightweaver 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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