Octavius
(#23696123)
Apologies, the sun is rather bright.
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Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.42 m
Wingspan
6.76 m
Weight
785.14 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Ripple
Ripple
Coal
Stripes
Stripes
Carmine
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 4 Skydancer
EXP: 131 / 4027
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Lineage
Biography
Husband: |
Quote:
Vampire Priest/Apothecary mages gloves maybe, ruby necklace or ruby pendant Officiates any marriages in the clan, speaks at any executions. There was always something so base and thrilling about seeing his boyfriend spattered in blood, Octavius thought, chuckling underneath his hood. He'd certainly picked the right dragon to court, one with just as much blood lust as he had, if only in slightly different ways. He turned from the newly-freed font of blood, antennae twitching slightly as his attention moved from food, feed, drink, to something a bit more practical: work. He'd had his full from his stash before the execution, and had enough sense in him not to go lapping at his mate's cheek like he so desperately wanted to. There would be plenty of time for that later, after all. What a horribly naughty thing for a priest to be thinking, he thought, beak in the rites. It wasn't, by all means, and all he wanted to do was go drag Roman off into his lair and snuggle down with him and work the tension from hefting his cleaver out of his shoulder. He turns to face him again, watching the blood drip and splat towards the stone. Perhaps the clean-up would go a bit quicker this time. After all, he could feel his stomach growling already. Story By: Finian #83611 He's beautiful. The way he hefts that sword like it's made of paper, the way his scales glint in the torchlight. The way he looks when he's spattered with blood and gore. The smell of him as he makes his way up towards the altar makes Octavius feel like he hasn't eaten in years and he's finally being presented with a feast. There's silence, just the sound of claws on stone, and then Roman is there in front of him. He can smell him better, smell the sweat and blood on his wings, on the sword that he has yet to clean. Bowing his head, watching the droplets run through creases in his boyfriend's wings- well, he doesn't have the self control he'd like. They slot together like a broken stone, and through the blood, Octavius can taste him. His blood. "You've been scratched. Come, let me heal you." The words hold even more intent than he had hoped, promises and vows all wrapped in an easy word. "And then, perhaps, dinner." Story By: Finian #83611 The curious priest stood at his door, watching the young dragons play in the street in the springtime sun. It was a lovely sight to see with all of the spring flowers sprouting, Honeycomb’s farm in bloom in the distance. The sun shone through the newly erupted leaves, warming his aching wings. Things were quiet while Roman was away, he dearly missed him during those few hours they were apart. He returned into his home, he lived in the local church, though no one needed to attend the church. Each dragon came to him when they felt the time was right. He looked at his framed picture of Roman. Narag had made a camera and allowed Octavius the first choice at the first photo taken. Though blurry, it was perfect. He cherished it with his whole heart. When he had come to the kingdom he had worried he would be cast out, but over time he learned that everyone enjoyed his company. He was welcomed for the first time in his life. He felt happy, and inspired, Octavius sat down and grabbed his pen from his cup and began to write. Octavius isn’t one to be left alone and trusted to make good decisions, as noted by Roman. And yet, here he was, standing alone in the church with a more than delirious idea on his mind. He wasn’t exactly a professional when it came to magic, but it was without the presence of his boyfriend to remind him it was a bad idea that he had himself sat calmly before the altar of his church, breathing slowly in and out. Channeling his Shadow powers was hard, and even if he was only a common Shadow wielder he didn’t think he’d have this many problems trying to manifest… something, at least. Octavius grunted in annoyance after his brief meditation turned sour with no results, trying to picture the dark trees of the Tangled Wood, turning into a low growl and then an angry snarl when nothing happened once again. He opened his eyes to give up on the entire thing for a day - or at least to clear his mind - and blinked at the darkness surrounding him. Funny, usually he had impeccable night vision, being a vampire and all, but- “Octavius, what have you done?! I told you not to go trying things on your own!” Story by: Kasairan #416536 There was a silent hush over the crowd. Octavius was still getting used to the very thick robes he wore as a priest, and had trouble shuffling them about so he could look up at the commotion. A newcomer was arriving into the kingdom where he lived. What kind of dragon would they be? Escorted by Aelin, the new dragon from what he could see was a very large one, perhaps an Imperial. He was scarred all over, from stomach to neck, and every step he took seemed to shake the earth. The marred jaws of aggression bared themselves a little underneath the heavy steel helmet obscuring his eyes. He wasn’t sure what it was, but when Aelin trotted off towards the castle and the Imperial started moving around the square on his own, Octavius felt his heart pounding out of his chest. Something about this dangerous sort was drawing him in. Dragged along like a puppet on a string, Octavius’s legs moved on his own, and eventually he forcibly bumped into the newcomer. Octavius wanted to yelp in embarrassment and horror, but no sound came out. He staggered about for a minute, his hood falling back down and shutting out his vision once more. Octavius tripped all over his fabric until he felt the sudden grip of teeth and claws pull the loose garment away from where he was tripping over it. The gentle clink of a helmet could be heard as it nudged his hood up, enough to fully see who he was dealing with. “Are you okay?” came the low, guttural rumble of the Imperial’s voice. Octavius was too starstruck to answer immediately, but he held back his inexplicable excitement and nodded. He could see the jagged, uneven smile of an executioner underneath that heavy helmet, and just the faintest hint of blush. Octavius blushed back, his little fangs poking out of his mouth out of happiness. This was the start of a beautifully twisted romance. written by: lizardfish Octavius is a healer/ priest who runs an apothecary business from within the church. He prefers plant based, or water based healing. He's learning how to use shadow magic now. He is also a very gay mess. He can heal everyone else, but cannot heal himself. |
Art by: PotateTheGreat #321584
by: Oxyzee (#415597)
Moodboard by: CleverDual #259164
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Exalting Octavius to the service of the Windsinger 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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