AbyssalAurora » Lair » Lachesis

Lachesis

(#24915889)

Level 1 Fae

Familiar

Rat King

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

0.6 m

Wingspan

1.54 m

Weight

1.58 kg

Genetics

Gloom
Iridescent

Copper
Saturn

Smoke
Thylacine

Hatchday

Jun 25, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Fae

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 1 Fae

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

Lachesis

Role Goes Here
Self-Reliant | Ethereal | Somber | Thrifty | Nonmaterialistic

B I O G R A P H Y

Lachesis cannot remember ever seeing the light of day before the war.

In fact, she doesn't remember much of anything before then. All she knows is that she came into being in total darkness, her lungs first inflating with damp air and the permeating odor of waste. Her claws slipped out from under her on the slick stone with many of her first steps, yet they never found the reassuring touches of any parents. She came to terms with the truth much quicker than many dragons would in her situation, deducing within her first day that whatever individuals had produced her would not, or could not, claim or retrieve her. This did not seem to trouble her overmuch, and within the first few days, her eyes had adjusted to the musty darkness of the waterways beneath Bevelle's sprawling city of Scylacium. The sewers revealed their hidden bounty to the quiet orphan, and soon enough, she had learned to catch spiders and cockroaches feeding on the slime molds and lichens she made her bed from. As she grew, she occasionally crossed paths with bandits and other unsavory characters, but with no moral compass instilled in her from a family, she tended to simply hang back and send them on their way with a cursory flick of her crests. They never had business with her, nor she with them. Never did she try to find an exit, despite building sophisticated mental maps that would have made any urban cartographer proud. This dank dungeon became her entire world.

She had not gotten the chance to live very long before her world fell to ruin, its ceilings rent asunder with unnaturally massive force. War had crashed onto her moldy doorstep, the first catastrophic blows from Eteraarde's weapon raining revenge on Scylacium for the perceived murder of Yharnam. Lachesis never comprehended the politics of that fateful day, only that somehow, for some reason, her pipe nest tore, folded, twisted, until it contorted to sever her spine, leaving her a pitiful display framed inside a giant hole in the pavement of the world above her.

B I O G R A P H Y

The spilling of innocent blood would not pass unnoticed before Etro, the quasi-divinity having rushed to the scene upon learning what her invisible interventions in Yharnam's demise had brought forth. Widespread death had never been her goal, and though she landed in the middle of the fray, she could only stand in shock as fervent war-cries and anguished screams rang out in quick succession from every angle around her. Trembling, the Imperial frantically took in the events before her, struggling to find solid footing before slightly slipping and cutting a toe on mangled metal. Whirling to inspect the area, her eyes quickly found Lachesis, paws darting to retrieve the limp body as it twisted unnaturally in her grasp. What a horror she had wrought! Innocent young lives, stolen so violently from grossly miscalculated good will! Still quivering and holding back tears, she cradled Lachesis against her chest, wings furling around her, bathing the Fae's corpse with light and power unhinged by her emotions.

Scylacium's generals had never taken kindly to displays of forbidden magic, and even in the heat of war, their morals never swayed one bit. The Guardian who spotted Etro's heresy in motion was no exception, immediately rerouting his battle charge upon realizing her intentions and methods. The ground beneath her shook, and Etro flinched and reared back, never once releasing Lachesis but severing her concentration. Though Etro reached for her blade, Venat struck the Guardian from above like divine lightning, tangling with him in a flurry of spines, teeth, and claws. But the damage had already been done. Though Etro huddled to resume her revival of the tiny body in her hands, that power had already been interrupted. Lachesis would not return quite completely.

Since then, Lachesis has followed Etro like a familiar, through battles and slumbers alike. Her favorite perch is on Etro's antlers, surveying her new world from the highest vantage point. She still remains almost entirely nonverbal, though such is not quite in her control anymore. Due to the fragmentation of her reincarnation, Lachesis has never quite become corporeal, beginning with a mostly-solid body eerily translucent at its tips and slowly losing substance with the steady march of time. Every breath exhales matter from her physical form, as it has done every day since her return to pseudo-life. Now, her lungs are quite permeable, her body remaining aerated simply by its own openness to the surroundings. Tendrils of ethereality have wound their way along her body, fading it out until only fragmented sails of her wings remain now. She flies by sheer weightlessness alone, and her eyes seem the only other part of her that never properly fades.

Lachesis lives knowing exactly how many heartbeats she has until she simply dissolves into nothing. As a result, she unnerves many that encounter her, a chilling reminder of everyone's mortality. Material possessions mean nothing to her, both due to her youth in poverty and her adulthood feeling death breathing down her neck. Mostly, she prefers to stick to herself, being unable to take a true job in the clan and calling Abyssal Aurora home primarily to remain near Etro. She claims few to no friends, as most parties involved in the ancient war prefer to avoid the constant reminders of their grave actions. Lunafreya reaches out to her when Etro cannot look after her, ensuring that her few needs are met and her comfort is maintained. Many are grateful for her silence, for her proximity to death allows her to peer into the souls of others and read the chronicle of their life and death. Should she ever speak to you, it's possible that all she would tell you is how many breaths you had left to draw.

Bio template by @Mibella, find it here.

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Exalting Lachesis to the service of the Tidelord 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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