Regus
(#31142176)
Level 25 Pearlcatcher
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Energy: 50/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.14 m
Wingspan
4.54 m
Weight
548.95 kg
Genetics
Maize
Iridescent
Iridescent
Sanddollar
Morph
Morph
Sable
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Pearlcatcher
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Biography
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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Their numbers had dropped. Again. From solid triple digits (spread out in small, innocuous groups in the vain attempts to stay unnoticed) to little more than a dozen packed together (silently hoping they wouldn't have to watch each other fade away). They all sat, shivering, as rain seeped into the cracks of their makeshift shelter. It was little more than piled together rubble, but it kept them from having to stare at the empty streets and it would have to do. Regus eyed the shivering forms all pressed together. It was bitterly cold, he wasn’t too sure it would be worth the risk to start a fire. Not this close to the Spire. Not this close to the end. They all carried deep, oozing, untreated wounds. They dripped and oozed tar-like... something that burned away at their scales and flesh and resolve. They all carried the dwindling hope of their clans and their families and the unrealized potential of a thousand unhatched eggs; they all carried that darkness near their hearts. It took a herculean effort for him to shake off his thoughts and drag himself to his feet. Gingerly he wove through the others, careful not to brush against feverish scales. With a sighed breath that burned down his throat, he sat at the lopsided shelter entrance and peered out into the rain-soaked street beyond. The rain was nice. It was frigid. A burning cold that fought valiantly against the bubbling, searing taint churning in his blood. Oozing past his maw. It still burned as it clawed its way up his throat. Even if he had no way of saying so anymore. Even if no one had the capacity to look beyond their own suffering. Regus hated being alone. Hated it with every fiber of his being. The solitude gave him too much time to think. To remember. To lament. He wasn’t who he used to be. Dimly he could remember the echoed memory of a home. White walls and tiny, delicate teacups and tinkling laughter. He couldn’t remember their faces. Couldn’t remember the tilting of their voices. Only the laughter. Innocent and bright. Then oh so very wrong. Heat and burned plastic and thick, acidic smoke that coiled in his lungs and became a part of him and it would never leave him now and he wanted it gone and out of him but it was all he had left now. He wanted to forget. To forget exactly what was bubbling, oozing up from inside him. But that was impossible. He laughed, a grating, broken sound carried on a tattered voice. It was very clear how broken they all were when anyone paused to look. A drop of freezing water landed on his paw and he craned his head up to glare at the ceiling. That roof really wasn’t worth the effort. |
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Exalting Regus to the service of the Icewarden 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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