Vicegrips' dragon Holland

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

7.19 m

Wingspan

5.09 m

Weight

1063.82 kg

Genetics

Cream
Ripple

Cream
Current

Carmine
Smirch

Hatchday

Oct 11, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Bogsneak

Eye Type

Plague
Common

Level 1 Bogsneak

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

H O L L A N D
Stop talking or I'll tear out your tongue and eat it.

Holland was born in a small, dirt poor town to parents unfit to raise a child. His father was a violent drunk who took out his frustrations on him and his mother, the people closest to him. His mother was a meek woman who bottled up her anger and took it out on herself when she thought she was alone. Holland always stood up for his mama. He numbed himself to the bruises and the yelling in order to take the brunt of the abuse and his mama let him.

Any opportunity to slip away he'd take, spending long hours by himself as far away from home as he could get. In the quiet of the forest Holland would whittle pieces of wood into all sorts of things. Mostly weapons that he'd daydream about using on his pa. He never brought any of it home with him. Instead, he'd store his creation in the trunk of an old tree where he could always come back and admire them.

One day, when his father was particularly drunk and violent something happened that changed his already ****** life forever. He returned home later than usual from his quiet spot in the woods to find his mother and father fighting like cats and dogs. Holland tried to get in between them but this time his father was having none of it. It was his mama that was the cause of all of his rage. It was over something stupid, of course. So stupid he couldn't even recall what it was that ****** him off so much, but one thing lead to another and before he knew it his mother was flat out on the floor, unmoving.

Holland tried to wake her up. He cried and shook her, begged her to get back up. Nothing worked, nothing worked because she was already dead. Blood poured from the wound on her head where she'd smashed it against the stones in the fireplace. He can still remember how it stained the already dirty floor an even deeper shade of brown as it soaked into the wood.

His father barely reacted, too drunk to understand the consequences of what he'd just done. Distraught and sick to his stomach, Holland ran. He ran and he ran and his feet took him right to his favorite spot. For hours he cried until he couldn't cry anymore, the reality that his mother was gone and all he had left was his father sinking into his brain.

After the tears had stopped, Holland had made up his mind. Rummaging through his secret hiding spot for one of his treasures, he chose the sharpest peice of wood he could find and set off for home. His father was still up when he got there, sobering up and clearly distraught himself. He tried to apologize for what he'd done but it was too late for that.

The wood sunk into his father's belly like a hot knife through butter. It shocked him, really, how easy it was. His father didn't put up much of a fight and that only seemed to anger Holland more. Again and again he stabbed his father until he stopped moving too. It didn't make him feel any better. In fact, all he felt was number than before.

He left shortly after burying his mother, leaving the house to burn with his father's corpse still inside.

The years after his parents' deaths were filled with more blood. Both his own and others, victims (mostly) who didn't deserve to die but had the misfortune of running into a coldblooded killer with no remorse. Holland didn't make friends, didn't want them. All he wanted was to cause pain and feel pain in turn. Pain was what he was good at, it's what he knew best.

When Holland met Mordecai he'd already taken the lives of many people. Some innocent and others not so much. It didn't really matter to him one way or the other. Which made him perfect for the life that Mordecai was offering. He had fashioned himself into a weapon and up until then he hadn't had anyone to wield him in the right direction.

They met in a saloon where Holland was working, he and Mordecai, and if you were to ask him why he agreed to join him his answer would probably be that he didn't know. Perhaps he was tired of moving around so much, maybe it was because killing folk at random had started to get old. Either way, joining Mordecai ended up being the best decision he ever made- aside from killing his pa.

Holland still takes the odd wanderer here and there. People they run into who won't be missed, people who are lost and wander a little too close to the gorge. Since they put down roots there and built their own saloon there's also been an outsider here and there who has stumbled in and never stumbled out.

Mordecai doesn't really bother looking into it too much. Holland does his job and he does it well, acting as the butcher when he isn't running the saloon. Unfortunately, this means he's in regular contact with Jedidiah who acts as the head cook. The two don't like each other very much but Holland is positive that Jed hates him more than he hates him. Not that he'd ever **** with his boss' brother. But oh boy has he thought some venomous things.

His two favorite people, on the other hand, are Knox and Aisha. Knox is harmless, annoying but harmless and Aisha is.... well, suffice to say his feelings for her are more than platonic. She's his favorite part of the strange alliance struck between the gorge and Thanatos.

[still under co.]

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

RELATIONSHIPS: Aisha

BELONGINGS:

• An old and rusted cleaver whose previous owner is a mystery (and likely dead).

• His mother's journal which he keeps hidden in a secret, safe place. It's the last thing he has besides his memories to remember her by. When he misses her, he reads it.

•A hooded cloak he needs to wear if he has to go out during the day. Being albino means his skin is sensitive to the sun and heat.

OTHER BITS OF INFO:

• Holland is albino so he keeps himself covered throughout the day to protect his sensitive skin and eyes from the sunlight.

• Holland doesn't ever say who he's friends with out loud, he's more of an actions speak louder than words kind of guy. But if he was to list his friends in camp he'd probably tell you that he's fondest of Knox, Mordecai, and Azazel.

• He prefers the company of women over men. This is mostly because of his childhood experiences with his horrible father.

^{Either order something to drink or take a hike. Doesn't matter to me, partner.}

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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 Holland to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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