Celsius

Relations

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Mate: Apples
Close Friends: Overcast
Enemies: Hatchlings and his parents.

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Personality

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Celsius is a bitter dragon. Alluring and kind on the surface, he's a sadistic revenge-seeker at his core. He's deeply insecure about his appearance, and hurts others to feel better about himself. It never works.

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Snapshot

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"Now, hatchlings, let me tell you a story."

The male Coatl could barely keep the smile from his lips as he stared down at the hatchlings before him. They were such little things, really, red eyes watering as they peered up at him, sniffling. Sick already, all of them. A shame.

"Once upon a time," he began, "once upon a time, there was a little Coatl, one sort of like you." Like every time, a collective breath was inhaled, excited glances exchanged as the hatchlings imagined themselves as the hero of the tale, strong and fast like they never could be in reality. "The little Coatl's name was... his name was Nikushimi, but everyone called him Niku. Niku was a happy little child from the day he hatched, laughing always, loving all. His parents and clans treasured him more than their hoards and desires. He was special. He was beautiful."

Oh, how the children smiled at this, how they laughed at the image of sleek feathers, bright feathers, being loved. They'd never felt love, not real love. All they'd had was a hollow fake where parents should have been. It was odd to see how quickly disease could ruin a family. It was even stranger to see how families shifted and changed in response to these supposedly detached children.

"One day," he continued, offering the children a smile at last, "Niku decided to go on an adventure. He was terribly bored, and anything outside of the nest sounded interesting. He found it easy to sneak past his ignorant parents and past the clan. Don't you think it would be easy, children?" It was a pleasure to see their nods.

"You could do it, too," he suggested gently. "Go on an adventure- but first, we need to finish our story, don't we?" More nodding, a stray wheeze. They were enthralled.

"Niku wandered, and he found himself outside of his home, walking in a place of wind. It was fortunate that he did not stay long, for the breezes there were cold and unpleasant. Several times, his wings were nearly ripped from his back by a strong gust, and he would have died if it had happened.

"Fortunately," the Coatl whispered, "he did not die. He kept going, walking into the darkness of night. When the sun again rose, he was in a place of bright colors, of orange and red, the home of his ancestors. It felt like home to him, too. It was safe here.

"Or so he thought." The hatchlings fidgeted nervously; the motion was caught by the Coatl, who allowed himself a smirk as he edged to block the hatchlings against a corner, lock them in place. A few seemed confused- the story would end well, right? What was going on?

The barest hints of a strange light flickered between his claws as he spoke. "The colors were so pretty and bright that Niku had to touch them, had to see what they felt like. Would they be soft? Would they be silken?

"They were neither. They were hot. They were painful. You see, darlings, the colors were fire, and fire catches." A spark, another flickering of color between the Coatl's talons, a whimper from one of the hatchlings. They knew by now that something was wrong. They knew that this wouldn't end well for them.

"He burned. Niku fell into the liquid fire, and he burned. He would never forget the smell of his own feathers searing away, leaving black skin behind, changing him. The color would never leave him. He would always burn now, always be the color of magma and burning rock, burning skin. He would be alone."

With a devilish laugh, the Coatl stepped closer to the hatchlings, watched them pack together in fear. "He would be alone," he repeated, a newborn fire fluttering in his claws, swirling close to untainted feathers, "and he would make others understand him in the only way they could. He would make them burn."

The scent of scorched feathers filled the air.


Headcanons