SnakeMother » Lair » Necrosis

Necrosis

(#29339456)

Level 4 Mirror

Familiar

Sorcerous Arms

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.78 m

Wingspan

5.59 m

Weight

395.51 kg

Genetics

Maroon
Poison

Blood
Toxin

Maroon
Spines

Hatchday

Dec 18, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Mirror

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 4 Mirror

EXP: 527 / 4027

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Del
Blood

Offspring

Biography

The Ruthless Surgeon, Necrosis

Insert Song Title Here

Mate-Sails~ Sexuality/Romantic inclination- Pansexual/romantic~ Pronouns-She/her

Insert Tidbit here

Dragonet years
Necrosis grew up in a tribe that hailed from the Plaguelands. They were a savage bunch; starving, ragged, they would attack rival tribes often- either assimilating viable and willing dragons, or slaughtering all of the rival tribe, and eating them.
Yes, they were a cannibal tribe. And, while in this tribe, Necrosis had had her taste of flesh and bloodshed. There was little food, and plenty of competition, so due to this- compounded with their leader's unwillingness to leave the Plaguelands and betray his patron goddess, the tribe stayed.
The tribe was run mostly by Bone Shamans, those deemed impure enough by the Plaguebringer herself to run their tribe of fifty or so dragons, and Necrosis was actually the daughter of the head shaman himself.
Now what does that mean? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It would mean nothing until Proving Day.
What is that, you may find yourself asking? A prelude, if you will. The dragonets are trained from the first day to be fine-tuned in all aspects of battle, and to be immune to the suffering of others, and to have only two goals in mind: Survive, and take the tribe with you. Proving Day is there to weed out weak dragonets before they reach adulthood.
And here we reach the crux of the problem: Necrosis, while she understood death and illness to be neccessary, never failed to remember that life and health was just as important. No matter how hard she tried, Necrosis never took to killing as easily as her tribe did, and would often try to help prisoners escape their gory end.
She had been caught before- sneaking extra rations, disposing of a disproportionate amount of bloody bandages- the usual. But no actions were ever leveled against her. Necrosis commanded respect, even as a dragonet. She was confident, and sharp; nothing ever got past her, and if some unfortunate soul challenged her and her actions, she would dispatch them quickly.
So of course, when the time came to be proven, she was ready; she had always been ready, for she saw this as the first step to assuming leadership of the cannibals, and bringing them out of the rot and depravity they had allowed themselves to fall into, and lead them to a better, less horrific existence. This idea was always in her pocket, and it would have continued to be- until she saw what her tribe had done to not just her, but to her dear friends; dragons that she had nursed back to health after their captures or their unreasonable punishments.
They were all gone. Dead. Their heads the only mementos to their presence.
She would have made it just fine throughout the day- if cripplingly distraught- if she had not witnessed the bodies of her charges being dumped into the bloody mass grave where the clan kept their larder.
Then, and only then, did something break inside her. To this day, she has never been the same; cold, brusque, and brutal in a way she had never truly been.
Her goal then changed. She would not lead the tribe.
She would wipe them from the earth.

Bio
No one, save Calypso, Sails, herself, and- obviously- Kreech know about what happened to her. Necrosis refuses to speak to anyone about what she has done.
She was found on a routine sweep of the northern section of the gulf, clinging to a piece of flotsam driftwood. Of course, without thinking twice they would save her, and bring her back to their base.
She was in a bad way- terribly emaciated from not having eaten for days, wings in tatters, scales chipping, wounds pus-filled and infected. The infections, thankfully, didn't affecther too much due to her Plague Flight-origin. Nevertheless, unless she received medical help, she wouldn't have seen the next week.
At this time, the Watch had no doctors, only Sails and Kreech would be able to tend to her. Sails was the only one with sufficient knowledge of anatomy, and Kreech was the most powerful oracle on board, so the two got to work- Sails making mends and administering medicines, while Kreech would steer him away from potential mistakes or errors.
She eventually healed, but even then, she was crude, withdrawn, and even outright aggressive. She saw them as her kidnappers rather than saviors, but Calypso wouldn't let her leave- if there was conflict happening near the water Flight's territory, she was obligated to know about it.
Until Necrosis decided to talk, she was housed alongside Sails, who would eventually come to gain her trust, become her closest friend, and eventually her mate.
Necrosis did end up revealing what had happened, and she conspires with Calypso often to make plans to further her vengeance.

Job Description
It's pretty cut and dry- she's the head surgeon and sawbones of the Watch- no one is operated on without her supervision, and for the most part she's often the only one willing to get her claws dirty.
She has an apprentice, Kelpie, but Kelpie is a bit more squeamish, so ultimately it's up to Necrosis to put some poor sucker's guts back where they belong.

Hobbies
She often trains in combat with Pulpo- it doesn't do to let your skills go dull, especially with her plans. There isn't much she likes to do besides plan her siege, operate on patients and make notes accordingly, but she does come out- begrudgingly- to listen to the stories in the evening, or to listen to Chopin play.
She'd never admit it, but she enjoys engaging Sails in debate about anatomical discoveries, and takes great enjoyment out of his consternation when he realizes there's no way he could beat her in such discourse.

Likes
Fighting, old food (The dragon equivalent of liking reheated pizza), Sails, Debating, Proving she knows a ton about Anatomy, entertaining thoughts of the subjugation of her foes, the smell of smoke, being left alone, Healing her patients, making new medical discoveries, Ghost stories, and hot weather.

Dislikes
Talking about her past, deserts, Other Plague-flighters, the cold, vegetables, not having complete control of her situation, being trapped by others and her surroundings, being forced to do things, being told what to do, dragons that are just "too nice", when dragons don't follow her healing plans because they think they know better, having to patch them back up again after that and being proven wrong.

Physical Description
She never seemed to have fully recovered from her period of near-starvation, and even today her bones seem to poke through her hide, and her breath wheezes through her throat. Her wings never fully recuperated, and holes pepper the fine membrane. Spikes line her spine, and they gleam wickedly, unlike her normally dull scales and claws. Despite her decrepit appearance, her eyes gleam cunningly.

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Necrosis 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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