Clipper
(#25481678)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Greybeak Reaper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.65 m
Wingspan
4.12 m
Weight
920.27 kg
Genetics
Black
Cherub
Cherub
Charcoal
Butterfly
Butterfly
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Lineage
Biography
an assassin disguised as a messenger.
involved with the local mafia w cerberus.
a very quiet and quick child. he speaks almost no words, and is generally quick to the point.
he does have a soft spot for coatls and innocent ones, and tends to be protective of them.
Clipper collects small model ships in teeny glass bottles, sometimes even smaller than the length of a toe or claw. Any who knew him would expect his bag to be full of messages (or knives), but it's in actuality full of the small bottles and vials with intricate ships.
-- headcanon by Tarble, #188179
involved with the local mafia w cerberus.
a very quiet and quick child. he speaks almost no words, and is generally quick to the point.
he does have a soft spot for coatls and innocent ones, and tends to be protective of them.
By Caelyn, #205084 wrote:
The pale-blue Coatl flapped his wings, cringing against a tall oak. The black-red Mirror bared his teeth in a gleaming laugh. It turned to a snarl when a sharp metal blade pinned his tail to a tree.
“Who’s there? Show yourself!”
In the shadows, Clipper sighed. I thought Cerberus ran those Red Shades out of here.
The Mirror jerked against the binding, then howled as his tail began to tear. The pale Coatl looked torn between laughing and screaming.
Clipper almost laughed himself when the Mirror growled, “Don’t just stand there! Help me!”
“You were about to kill me!”
“That’s no excuse to stand there like a fool.”
With a twitch of his tail, the Coatl fluttered off. He had a messenger bag hanging off the side of his hip. A few of his letters drifted to the ground.
When the Mirror ripped himself off from the tree and plummeted into the shadows, Clipper retrieved the parcels and slipped them into his own bag. Mail went into the large pocket. Knives, metal stars, winches and chains went into the smaller one.
~*~
As with most things in life, it wasn’t intentional.
Clipper’s father was a messenger, so it was only natural that Clipper was one, too. But he lacked his father’s teal wings, his gruff voice, and his sense of humor. Those who knew Clipper spoke of him as soft-spoken but caring. A bit mysterious.
Cerberus, ever the businessman, saw potential. When one of the local noblemen fired Clipper for being too strange, Cerberus took the boy beneath his wing. He praised Clipper for his quiet gait and his ability to blend into the shadows.
Still, there was something very mild about the boy. When Cerberus nervously mentioned assassination, then waited for a reply, he was stunned at Clipper’s thoughtful nod.
“Well,” Cerberus said heartily over dinner. “That was easier than expected.”
“There are too many horrible dragons running around here.” Clipper fiddled with his bag. “Some of the other messengers can’t defend themselves.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve had friends go missing.”
Cerberus bit the inside of his cheek, hoping that he wasn’t responsible for any of those missing friends. It wasn’t likely—mail boys weren’t his usual targets.
Thus, Clipper became both courier and assassin. He rarely speaks, but knows that the messengers in the Foxfire Bramble are grateful for his presence.
~*~
“You never say anything,” Callous said. He chomped down on the raspberry-chocolate pie and gulped noisily.
Clipper said nothing. He sipped his carafe of sparkle and watched Callous.
“I like you a lot.” Callous cocked his head. “In fact, I see great things for you…”
“Don’t start,” Cerberus called from the base’s kitchen.
“Great things, like getting me another slice.” Callous grinned and thumped his tail against the floor.
He was rewarded by a slight smile and a shake of the head, which was the most reaction he’d gotten from Clipper in a week.
“Who’s there? Show yourself!”
In the shadows, Clipper sighed. I thought Cerberus ran those Red Shades out of here.
The Mirror jerked against the binding, then howled as his tail began to tear. The pale Coatl looked torn between laughing and screaming.
Clipper almost laughed himself when the Mirror growled, “Don’t just stand there! Help me!”
“You were about to kill me!”
“That’s no excuse to stand there like a fool.”
With a twitch of his tail, the Coatl fluttered off. He had a messenger bag hanging off the side of his hip. A few of his letters drifted to the ground.
When the Mirror ripped himself off from the tree and plummeted into the shadows, Clipper retrieved the parcels and slipped them into his own bag. Mail went into the large pocket. Knives, metal stars, winches and chains went into the smaller one.
~*~
As with most things in life, it wasn’t intentional.
Clipper’s father was a messenger, so it was only natural that Clipper was one, too. But he lacked his father’s teal wings, his gruff voice, and his sense of humor. Those who knew Clipper spoke of him as soft-spoken but caring. A bit mysterious.
Cerberus, ever the businessman, saw potential. When one of the local noblemen fired Clipper for being too strange, Cerberus took the boy beneath his wing. He praised Clipper for his quiet gait and his ability to blend into the shadows.
Still, there was something very mild about the boy. When Cerberus nervously mentioned assassination, then waited for a reply, he was stunned at Clipper’s thoughtful nod.
“Well,” Cerberus said heartily over dinner. “That was easier than expected.”
“There are too many horrible dragons running around here.” Clipper fiddled with his bag. “Some of the other messengers can’t defend themselves.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve had friends go missing.”
Cerberus bit the inside of his cheek, hoping that he wasn’t responsible for any of those missing friends. It wasn’t likely—mail boys weren’t his usual targets.
Thus, Clipper became both courier and assassin. He rarely speaks, but knows that the messengers in the Foxfire Bramble are grateful for his presence.
~*~
“You never say anything,” Callous said. He chomped down on the raspberry-chocolate pie and gulped noisily.
Clipper said nothing. He sipped his carafe of sparkle and watched Callous.
“I like you a lot.” Callous cocked his head. “In fact, I see great things for you…”
“Don’t start,” Cerberus called from the base’s kitchen.
“Great things, like getting me another slice.” Callous grinned and thumped his tail against the floor.
He was rewarded by a slight smile and a shake of the head, which was the most reaction he’d gotten from Clipper in a week.
Clipper collects small model ships in teeny glass bottles, sometimes even smaller than the length of a toe or claw. Any who knew him would expect his bag to be full of messages (or knives), but it's in actuality full of the small bottles and vials with intricate ships.
-- headcanon by Tarble, #188179
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Exalting Clipper 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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