Zavijava » Hibernal Den » Abomination

Abomination

(#28921007)

Level 1 Ridgeback

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

14.19 m

Wingspan

14.27 m

Weight

8228.4 kg

Genetics

Obsidian
Vipera

Sanguine
Peregrine

Crimson
Underbelly

Hatchday

Nov 30, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Ridgeback

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 1 Ridgeback

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Sylph
Ahu

Offspring

none

Biography

Abomination

Timid | Soft | Fearful

B I O G R A P H Y

Beaten, branded and imprisoned for untold decades, this furtive vagrant hides a terrible secret. The Eldritch poison coursing through his veins has given him unspeakable power, at a terrible cost.

A bomination grew up in a relatively secluded Plague Flight Clan. The clan had no direct neighbours and kept to itself, which meant that there was only a small circle of members for Abomination to grow up with and get to know. This led to him being incredibly shy and nervous when travellers and other dragons passed through. When they did, Nation would retreat to the furthest corners of the territory, learning. Travellers came to his clan regularly, meaning he spent more and more time by himself. At birth, the Ridgeback hadn't been called Abomination, but rather, just Nation. His parents had wage shim to travel and get to know other places, and to show this, had given him a name that symbolised travel and adventure. Nation had always been a curious dragon. Always eager to learn and experimental in anything he came across. Where most dragons would be content with discovering an insect trapped in amber and would take it to their clan, Nation would study the insect within the stone. He would smash it open to find out how the insect had stayed preserved for what he guessed could be millions of years. Things like this never seemed to trap his attention for long, and soon he would move on. After a while of moving in and out of the clan as travellers came by, Abomination decided to just stay in the edges of the territory. There was always an abundance of trinkets for him to explore, new materials appearing daily for him to experiment with. Due to his reclusive nature, Abomination is also incredibly sensitive. The Ridgeback is unable to stand insults and complaints, always taking them to heart, believing that he has really upset the dragons around him. This inability to understand led to him dreading simple acts of conversation, acts of socialising that many others take for granted. Even greeting dragons that he didn't know proved difficult as he was so shy, so timid that he wanted to be anywhere but in that new dragons view. Where most would spend time with friends and family, just having fun, Nation would keep to himself, never fully content unless alone. He did try to talk to others, but it never went well. He can recall a time in his very early life, when he had first tried making a friend. The young Ridgeback had been following a trail of fresh animal tracks, curious as to what had made them, when he had bumped interest another hatchling. They had both leapt backwards, a smile on the others face, an apologetic look coating his features. Abomination had apologised ten times over, only to receive a dismissive giggle, which sent different signals to Nation. He had tried to strike conversation, had tried to mimic the ways he has heard his parents talk. After much awkward attempts to keep the conversation afloat they had parted ways. That confrontation had discouraged Nation, had destroyed the little confidence he had scraped together. He didn't blame the other hatchling, just himself. This was just one of the many things that led to him eventually leaving his birth clan.

The Start of a Journey
Abomination left his clan quite early in his life. He felt little to no attachment, mainly due to his leaving often. The lack of sadness at leaving his birthclan surprised Nation, he had expected a pang of longing, a tinge of regret at the very least. Yet, he felt nothing, not a single cell in his body showed even the slightest inclination to stay.tis made odd feelings surface beneath his sensitive scales. He realised just how few memories he had retained from his birthclan, how little he had to remind him of it, to think back on during his long flight to who knew where. Nation spread his wings, rising upwards into the midday sun. He had an idea of where he'd like to end up, a nice, quiet clan out in the Lightning Territory, that sounded nice to him. The only thing Nation had to think on during this journey was the differences he had felt between him and others, the stark gaps between other hatchlings of his breed and him. They had always been boisterous, ready to show off to any watching them, always performing high stunts to impress anyone nearby. Nation hadn't been like this, he had strayed from expectancies, strayed to the furthest corners of any social circles. Nation smiled at these thoughts. His memories probably differed greatly too that of most dragons. He supposed that many would think back on hatchlinghood friendships, bonds made and kept at a young age. There was none of that for him. He had always been like a vagrant. Keeping to the edges, eating what was offered or what he could find scattered around, sleeping in his home or in the open, not really caring either way. Not many would have chosen that route in life, a lot of other dragons would have simply stayed in their caves until the travellers they had feared had left, they wouldn't have left altogether. As the daylight disappeared over the far horizon, Nation landed at the edges of the PlagueBringers territory. He stood on the border between the land border of the ShadowBinder and PlagueBringer. The difference was gradual, but noticeable as he descended. The sparse, sickly trees coating the Wastelands gave way slowly but surely to the more sinister, mushroom dotted grounds of the Twisted Woods. Nation relaxed almost as soon as he set his claws down. The fading sun and rising moon made everything more peaceful around him and caused the mushrooms to become fireflies of light all around him. The Ridgeback settled down, folding his wings around him as he prepared for sleep. He never heard the snapping of a twig behind him, never registered the whispering of malicious voices until it was too late. A hiss made Nation snap open his eyes and look about fearfully. Three cloaked shapes stood before him, blood stained gear hanging like chains from their muscled limbs. He hesitated a second too long for any hope of escape. They flew at him, snapping thick chains around his talons, smashing something cold and hard over his head. The last thing the terrified dragons saw was a crimson eye before he blacked out from pain.

Imprisonment

The only thing Abomination was aware of as he eventually came to was the feeling of sharp stones and sticks digging into his scales, there was a strange bag like covering over his snout, prohibiting sight like a blackout blind. It took mere seconds for the events of the day before to rush through his mind at lightning speed. Where was he? What had happened? Pain reliever dieted through his scales, he had been getting dragged like this for a while. An important question surfaced in his mind. Why were they not flying? Nation stopped moving for a minute, trying to sense his captors and gather his bearings. His wings were being pulled out behind him, stretched. So, they were pulling him by his wing membranes? Pain shot along the torn skin as his senses rose from their stupor, assaulting the Ridgeback with waves of nauseating pain. He felt as if his wings were being ripped from his body, tendon by tendon, peeled out of his back. He swallowed a roar of pain, barely. There was no point in struggling, all he could do was attempt to survive until they stopped, hopefully that wasn't too long away. After what seemed like days later, the grinding of the captors footsteps stopped. He was lifted from th e.g. round in one swift movement and thrown inside of a small dragon steel cage. He lay on the floor, dazed, unable to move his stiff and resisting muscles. The captor shuffled about in front of him, leaving Nation blind and unaware of his surroundings until they removed the mask. The two dragons grinned viciously at him, scarred jaws twisted grossly in the almost unnatural expression. A memory of a third swam about in the Ridgeback memory, but there were no others that he could see. Still dazed, Nation couldn't resist as they hauled him to his feet and lifted his wings up. As they did this, he caught sight of the two carelessly torn holes on each wing. He was powerless as chains were forced through these holes and attached to the low roof about everything him, keeping his aching wings aloft. The smaller of the two, possibly a Bogsneak from what Nation could tell, approached a lever like device near one corner and turned it in a half circle. A loud cranking noise followed this movement and the chains attached to Nations wings tightened. He roared in pain as dark blood slid from the newly torn skin, much to the larger, grinning captors amusement. The larger captor, a heavily built, taller than average Ridgeback, stepped towards Nation, his crimson eyes twinkling in enjoyment. "Ye really shouldn't 've strayed into our territory" he mocked in a faintly song like voice "You think we can't smell thee 'alfblood in yer veins?" His voice darkened considerably, still retaining it playful tone. The dragon lifted a sharply hooked claw to Nations face, scraping the skin "Ye really should've known better than t' stray into our territory. Now, you'll really know what goes on 'n the labs, that's what you boys been trying to figure at, ain't it?" His grin widened at Nations puzzled expression, then he turned away, out of the pitifully small cage. The smaller dragon had been busy snapping metal cuffs to Nations ankles and now cackled a laugh before following the other out and locking the windowless door with a metallic click.

The next few weeks, possibly even months, passed the same. Nation drifted in and out of consciousness, his body weakening by the day. He was kept alive by a small meal of two fish once every two to three days, a meal that he dreaded. The chains on both his legs and wings were taught, preventing any form of movement in the small space. It was common for the Ridgeback to be awoken by piercing screams from nearby cages, screams that echoed minutes after they had first rang out through the facility. He had yet to experience what it was that they were screaming about. What could possibly be so terrible to evoke such awful noise? The only answer that came to mind when he pondered over this was the one word from his captors speech that kept reappearing in his brain. Lab. Labs meant experiments, testing, probing, needles. He shivered at the thought, causing a dull throb to shoot us his wings. Even since he had arrived, his wings had been kept suspended, with new spurts of blood spurting from the cuts that never seemed to heal every so often. That day turned out to be different from the rest. Whilst Nation was standing, staring at the floor, floating somewhere out of consciousness, he became aware of the door before him clanging open, then shut. From blurred eyes, he watched a brightly coloured Coatl enter his cage. The bright creature flicked its wings before approaching him, it was pushing a cart laden with needles and assorted liquids. It took about a minute for Nations eyes to focus enough for him to make this out. "What are you doing?" He asked weakly, his voice catching in his parched throat. The Coatl paid him no heed and set about arranging their various instruments on the stained cart. He moved things about, before eventually finding what he was looking for. The long, sleek tipped needle sent a shiver down his spine, making his scales rattle in his unease. If anything, the Coatl smiled slightly at this reaction, then preceded to plunge the needle tip into a dark, dark green solution that swirled as it was touched. The dragon pulled the liquid up to just below the maximum of the needle. As the thick lid of the solution was replaced by one of the Coates blunted claws, Nation finally understood what was happening. The near constant screaming he heard must be the result of a mixture similar to the one held just inches from his skin. The towards him slowly and confidently, the full needle held out before him. As it's shining metal tip entered his skin, in a minute gap between two scales, he felt nothing. He looked down at the place where he should feel a stabbing pain, where the needle had been forced under his skin, a spot just below his wings. Then, the pain hit. It started with his muscles spamming beyond his control, then, he felt the full, gale force punch of the solution. He assumed that the solution was a toxin, what else would cause this burning beneath his scales? Blood cascaded with new force down his wings, coating the pre-stained scales with a fresh torrent of dark red liquid. It pooled around his stationery claws as he looked down in a daze, after a few minutes of excruciating pain, Nation drifted out of consciousness once more.

This was the last time Nation can remember when the concept of time seemed relevant. Dragons had near endless lifespans, so what was the point in stressing over it anyway? What was the point in worrying about how much time would pass between events? What was the point in weeks, days, months, seasons, years? This was also the last time he recalled being fully conscious. The next seemingly eternal period was spent in a mixture of pain induced unconsciousness and blurred images of his blood stained cage floor. Nothing seemed real, Nation would spend hours trying to kick his sludge like Brian into motion, trying to get some kind of response in his muscles. He knew it had been a while since they'd put on The Mask. He had felt it's coolness against his skin. No longer scales, they had been taken, burned away by that dreadful Eldritch poison he was being injected with. Eldritch Poison. He had heard that during one of those off time when he was somewhere within the conscious realm. It had been spoken by a younger dragon, another scientist like the Coatl. This one had revealed a few things as he mumbled, obviously to keep his instructions clear in his mind. The main words Nation managed to pick out were Eldritch,Poison, Subject, Amputation and Success. The last two had only recently begun to make sense as he pieced together the small snippets of knowledge he had retained. The mask, it had been placed on his face to cover something that had been taken, what, he didn't know. His ankles were also covered in leather like pads, pads that had been melded to his skin with molten oil. He hadn't felt it, not at all. All feeling had been drained from him, almost as if his nerves were muted. His entire body was cloaked in some kind of black blanket, heavier than lead, cooler than ice. The blanket helped slightly with the pain, but did little else. He couldn't feel any of his scales, couldn't sense their presence as he had for so long. If they had gone, at least that would be an explanation for the extra fountains of blood that seemed to fall around him, that he felt running along his back. Surely my after all this time, after all these years, his wings wouldn't still be bleeding? The chains must have rusted by now, maybe even become a part of him. Despite no longer caring about time, Nation knew that a lot of days had passed since he had last been outside, he knew that this imprisonment had lasted longer than he thought. He had been left with a lot of time to think over everything that had happened, to think over everything he had seen in what he had started to call The Before. Before he had been wrongly placed in chains, back when he could still sense, could still feel pain, could still move of his own accord. He didn't expect to get out of that place, Nation expected to die in that cell, strung up by two chains, left there for eternity, and he accepted that fact.

Light. That was the only thought that registered within Nations fragile mind. There was light, all around him, illuminating everything he could see. It was beautiful, glorious in its simplicity. The Mask was still attached to his face, the cloak and strange leather wraps clinging to him like his own skin. It was then that he realised why. Upon examining his legs and claws, basking in this new freedom, Nation discovered why he felt so odd, so devoid of sense. His scales were all gone. Every single one, exposing his pale, cream coloured flesh beneath the layers of thick clothing. Panicking, he attempted to rip the mask from his face, only to find that it had melded to his skin, become one with him, as had the clothes. He paced in circles to regain the feeling in his talons, to feel something, anything. How long had it been? Years? Decades? He sighed and dug his claws into the ground. His claws and eyes. The only things that seemed to not have been tampered with. A sudden burst of anger swept over him, sending dark, dark green laces of liquid over his skin. He stomped one foot in anger. To his left, a tree disintegrated to ash. Nation leapt backwards, cowering. After so many years of constant torture, everything was frightening. Shivers passed through him as he lay there, unable to stand up, to face this consuming fear. Eventually he rose to his feet, to face the pile of ash. His wings stayed up above his head, their muscles taut and immobile. The ash was a deep grey, the result of him. He had done this, had destroyed this tree. The ash swirled in the breeze gathering around him. He was no longer the dragon he had been before, the hatchling with high prospects and big plans. No. He was no longer Nation. Now, he was an Abomination. A shadow of how former self, a shadow hiding a terrible secret, a house of some incredible power, a power that had been thrust upon him, forced into his veins with unknown consequences, without a care for what it would do to the dragon within. What clan wis held accept him? An Abomination, a mixture of a dead dragon and a lab mixture. He stared at the ground. Every scale was covered by these clothes, this mask. Every scale, every part of his body, except for his wings. When he found a stream, only a few feet to the right of the ash, he looked up at them. The muscles were stationery, unresponsive no matter how much he attempted to force them into movement. They stayed upright, as if they were still held up by chains. As he looked over them, Abomination realised that there were still remnants of chain within them, the rings that had been forced through the flesh all those years ago. He shed a tear at that. One of his only joys in his younger life had been flying, it was one of the only things he felt free doing, something that could be done at any time, anywhere. Travellers had no effect on him when he flew, they couldn't drag his raging nerves back when he was in the sky. A crack of thunder split the sky above, giving life to a torrent of rain. Rain. The water washed over him, ridding the Ridgeback of decades and decades of dust and crusted blood, it pooled around him in discoloured puddles, staining the grass beneath his feet. A storm was brewing. It was the that Abomination realise two facts. One, he was in the Lightning Territory, and two, if lightning struck and a fire started, he wouldn't be able to fly away. The Ridgeback cowered down and shoved his feet forwards, moving slowly but surely out of the forest.

You're not alone
Abomination had sheltered beneath a ridge in the earth for the majority of the night, watching in fascination as lightning and dragons alike streaked across the sky in a rapid chase. The sight amazed him, made him what more than ever to fly again. As if in mockery, the chain in one wing had creaked in the rising wind, laughing at him and his wishes. The next morning, Abomination had risen from the shelter and started looking for a place to live. He didn't want a clan. Too many new faces, new dragons to judge how he looked. No. It was bad enough before with his extremely limited self confidence, now, a new clan would be unbearable. It was during this journey that he met his protector, the dragon that would shield him from insults and help him piece himself back together. Her name was Grue. Abomination had been a few hours into his search, had been keeping his eyes formerly on the earth before him in shame of being seen. The Imperial had been walking the border of her clan, lost in thought, when she had laid eyes upon him. A small, shivering shape wandering pitifully towards an unclear goal. She had felt drawn to him, as a Guardian is to their Charge. It was a strange feeling, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. She could tell that he needed help, guidance at the very least. Abomination had cowed as soon as he felt her presence, before he had even laid eyes upon her large frame. She had brought him to the clan, noticing straight away that he flinched around fats movements, despised being touched in any way. These, she realised, were typical of those who had been maltreated, beaten, even tortured. She was careful of him, slowly reintroducing the Ridgeback to normal life. Abomination knew something was different. This dragon was protecting him, helping him. He felt as though he belonged, in some small, minute way. This was the start of Abominations life in a clan, a life that he never thought he would achieve. He spends a lot of his time with Grue, although their relationship is incredibly strong, there is no romantic connection, nothing like that of a mate bond. Grue shielded Abomination, brought him back to life after years of being a walking corpse. Without realising, he gave her a will to live. Grue had something now, she was no longer just the terrifying Wendigo, she had a relationship, a friendship. The bond worked both ways, bringing both Imperial and Ridgeback into the light, away from the snatching claws of the abyss they were dragged into, merely by circumstance, through little to no fault of their own. Abomination spent a lot of time thinking over his time in the lab, it haunts him. Memories that engulf his soul, set a shadow on his life. Yet, he survives. Day by day, he is learning everything his life has lacked, is becoming a part of something he had never considered. For the first time in his life, he is content, happy with how his life has turned out.

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