Andromeda
(#24264905)
Level 1 Ridgeback
Familiar
Spirit of Lightning
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Ridgeback
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
16.73 m
Wingspan
15.9 m
Weight
7779.14 kg
Genetics
Mint
Vipera
Vipera
Ultramarine
Stripes
Stripes
Charcoal
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Ridgeback
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
Wild One. Unclaimed. Heretic. These were her first names. She professed - mostly to herself - that this was fine. When her birthclan abandoned her as an awkward, gangly youngster, she refused to let the loneliness claim her. It was a grand chance for adventure. She wandered to the east, awestruck at the power and intelligence of the Stormcatcher's get. But they were uninterested in a lost orphan with no kin to speak of, too caught up in their own projects to take up another. Again, the solitude crept through her veins, tangled itself up in her wings and weighed her feet down. Adhering to the belief of so many gods means gaining the blessing of none. She lingered on the edges of clans as a technician for hire. Her ability to see the start of a problem, to find that very misstep, kept her readily employed. But the years made her comfortably cold, and no clan wanted to invite in such an irritable, surly Ridgeback. In fact, some urged her out of their territory forcefully once her business with them was done. That was fine. It was all fine. She was meant to be alone, and she didn't care.
It made the smile of the stranger that much more disarming. The female Guardian was...odd, perhaps even eccentric. She followed this irritable Ridgeback from a scrapyard. She complimented the grumpy dragon's half-finished inventions and cooed over her blueprints.
"Just...go away." The Ridgeback waved a dismissive hand. "I don't even know who you are. Just leave me alone."
"Phoebe," the Guardian answered in such a matter-of-fact manner that it threw the other off.
"What?"
"My name is Phoebe. What's yours?"
"I don't...have a name." Her tone fell. Phoebe glanced up, lifting her goggles from her eyes.
"Well, I'll give you one." The Ridgeback gave a derisive snort. "I mean it. Once I think of a name for you, I'll go. Okay?"
Phoebe lingered until it was no longer lingering, and then followed until it was no longer following. They scavenged for parts together and took jobs together. The Ridgeback said little, and Phoebe didn't seem to mind. One night, somewhere in the dusty stretch between the Waste and the Expanse, stretched out beneath the stars, Phoebe offered a name.
"Andromeda."
"What?" The Ridgeback lowered the engine she had been dismantling and raised her eyeridges in confusion.
"That's your name. Andromeda." Phoebe smiled, looking content with herself.
"Where does that even come from? I've never heard of it before."
Phoebe shrugged, resting her head on the sands. "I dunno. I heard it in a story, once. Why does it matter where it came from?"
"Origins matter."
"No. Not really. It's what you can do, not where you come from." Phoebe shifted her weight so that her shoulder was touching Andromeda's. "That's what we say back home."
The newly named Ridgeback paused. She put the engine down on the ground and quietly considered this Guardian, this stranger unlike herself with no beginning and so many possible endings. She thought of the fathomless kindness that Phoebe had offered her with no expectation of returns. She glanced to the sky, spreading out impossibly above them. Home. What an odd sounding word. It felt...comfortable, somehow. Home. She mouthed it without sounding, trying it on like a new garment. Home.
"Will you...take me there?"
Andromeda has not softened a great amount in her time in VahStrun's lair. She is informal to the point of almost being curt. Small talk makes her angry and, though she's loathe to admit it, nervous. Non-committal grunts are her favorite form of communication. Why waste time chatting when there's work to be done? Above all other titles, she is a dismantler: she takes things apart, she finds the part that needs to be fixed or replaced, and then she puts it back together. She does this more quickly than any others in the clan. She - and Phoebe - still wander from time to time, offering their services where needed. But it doesn't matter where they go, not really. They'll always have a home.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Seafood stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Andromeda 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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