Makaria
(#40161233)
I'M BREATHING I'M BREATHI - oh... hi?
Familiar
Orbiting Spirit
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 25/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.9 m
Wingspan
1.15 m
Weight
1.96 kg
Genetics
Cornflower
Iridescent
Iridescent
Rose
Shimmer
Shimmer
Mist
Smirch
Smirch
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Lineage
Biography
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Makaria
Scout *unleashes the bandages of fury!* aaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaa aaaaaa aaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaa |
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Found bubbling away at the bottom of Muffin’s cauldron, no one’s quite sure where Makaria came from. Makaria herself doesn’t know, either. She thinks she used to belong to some kind of pirate crew, sailing across the ocean blue, but she has a distinct lack of combat skills, and there’s the unfortunate fact that the Runic Mountain Range’s deepest body of water is a puddle. It’s possible that she could be the recombination of several different Familiars, since that’s what Muffin was transmuting when her den exploded and Makaria was discovered, or maybe her entrance into the Runic Mountain Range just so happened to have portalled her right into Muffin’s brew. If that’s the case, she’s likely not the first one to end up there. (Though nobody feels like thinking too hard about the others who have.) She is, however, the first to survive being transmuted, which makes for a great conversation starter in awkward situations. Haukin was the one who salvaged her half-melted remains from the bottom of the pot before handing her over to Harmony, who was all too happy to find an actual situation she could reverse to work with. With some enchanting, a few safety pins, and quite a lot of reanimation magic, Makaria was put back together without too much trouble, making her one of the four experiments that have ever been successfully completed in the Aequitas Clan. Well, mostly successful, anyway. She still has the odd habit of suddenly turning transparent and drifting through walls like a ghost, but considering how long she was in Muffin’s cauldron, a side effect like that isn’t all that bad. Perhaps also due to her time as Muffin’s brew, the bloody wounds on Makaria’s limbs and neck show no signs of ever recovering, and seeing as Nephthys refused to treat her due to her lack of being on the verge of death, they’re probably never going to recover. Instead, Makaria keeps them wrapped in stark white bandages, which after being tainted with her blood have become sentient weapons she can control at will. If danger is nearby, those bandages will react on their own and furiously strangle the danger in question. Kavenia’s only been the victim of those bandages two times, but that’s sufficiently dissuaded her from approaching Makaria. After Kavenia’s near-strangled-to-death incident, other dragons have begun calling those weapons the bandages of fury. Their real names are PomPom and BonBon, but to be fair, “bandages of fury” sounds cooler. |
     
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Her proven ability to keep Kavenia at bay has gotten her Ma’at’s respect and a job as a scout. While Makaria isn’t officially a part of the Scales and doesn’t have the combative ability to be, she’s excellent at scouting out areas ahead of patrol teams and making quick reports about what’s going on. She completely lacks a sense of presence, making her an even better spy than Viper, though the fact she doesn’t have a presence puts some dragons on edge. After all, even the dead have some sense of existing. But if she’s neither living nor dead, what is she? Universa has complained on several occasions that she couldn’t read Makaria’s future. What’s even stranger is that she also can’t read Makaria’s past, which she can usually do even with dragons who have cloudy futures. Some have suggested it’s simply Universa’s lack of skill that has led to this conclusion. Well, nine dragons have. All nine of them were chased out of the Karma Cafe by dangerous flying teacups and one heavily enchanted crystal ball. Makaria, for her part, was a little disappointed by this. She’d really like to know who she used to be before the famous Muffin’s Cauldron episode, but she’s also not too enthusiastic about getting hit in the head with a teacup. Her amnesia doesn’t mean she can’t recall anything, though. Sometimes, she gets bits and pieces back. Not enough for her to remember specific events, but enough to confirm that she used to live near the sea and with other Nocturnes. What Makaria remembers most is a purple Nocturne she’s sure was a teacher of some sort, who told her all sorts of fascinating stories about the historical past. Judging by how accurate her historical knowledge is after going through the library’s archives, Valenya concluded that Makaria must’ve used to be a scholar of some sort, but the librarian can’t deduce anything further than that. Perhaps Adder knows something about Makaria’s situation. He seemed vaguely interested when she was first dragged out of the cauldron, even going as far as to help Harmony reanimate the silvery, moldy muck she’d been partially converted to. But the sorcerer claims to know nothing about Makaria’s origin, and to be fair, this is probably true. After all, he spends so much time in his lab that he couldn’t have possibly gone outside for stalking purposes. Besides, he definitely wouldn’t kidnap a dragon, only to shove her in Muffin’s brew. He’s way too nice for that. Since she spends most of her time outside doing scouting work, Makaria isn’t a permanent resident at the Aequitas Lair, preferring to camp outside and return once a month or so to deliver her reports. She’ll admit that she feels somewhat uncomfortable there, almost as if there’s a sinister presence imbued in the very walls of the lair, and she absolutely can’t stand the nice soundtrack that sometimes echoes out of the ventilation system. Her visits are sporadic and short, and she often won’t even try coming inside the lair. In all technicality, she could probably just live in the Runic Mountain Range by herself without being part of the clan to save her from all the trouble, but for some reason, as much as she’s repelled by it, she’s equally drawn to the lair. It might have something to do with her missing memories, as Makaria often feels as if there’s a piece of her hidden somewhere in the lair. Unfortunately, she can’t stand the place long enough to uncover that missing piece, so it’ll be awhile before she can figure out what that is. There’s another reason that Makaria doesn’t like hanging around the lair, and it’s not because most of the other clan members are idiots (though that’s a good reason to stay away, too.) Lately, sometimes without her noticing, Makaria stops breathing and the sound of her heartbeat disappears. It doesn’t harm her in the slightest, but she’s starting to worry it might hint at something more. She really doesn’t seem like a living dragon, and if that’s so, letting her clanmates find out might do more harm than good. |
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§ Graphics by LuminousNoble, Icons by Hazeledpoppy
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“Heading out again?” Makaria looked up to see Valenya come bounding up. The librarian had a satchel heavy with scrolls and a book tucked under one wing. Makaria greeted her with a dip of her own head. “Yeah, I’ve got some scouting to do,” she replied, hefting her knapsack a bit higher on her back. Valenya chuckled under her breath. “Ma’at sending you out on another mission? Come on, she needs to chill. You’re so busy you’re barely around the lair anymore. I bet some of our newer clanmates don’t even know what you look like.” Makaria managed a smile. “Well, that’s okay, I’m not so good at talking to new clanmates, either. And BonBon and PomPom don’t seem to like new company.” “Ah, the bandages of fury, huh?” Valenya gave her a friendly nudge. “Well, let me know how it goes! I’ve got to go supervise Muffin’s newest experiment. Honestly, I don’t even know what she’s trying to achieve half the time. She just shoves a bunch of things into that cauldron of hers and then-” KABOOM!! A faint tremor echoed through the crystal lair of the Aequitas Clan. Valenya didn’t flinched, used to this, but Makaria winced. “Yeah, that happens,” Valenya sighed. “Well. I hope Ravanai fixes it before I get down there, because it’ll be ugly.” she handed Makaria a scroll. “Here’s that story you asked me for earlier, by the way. Took awhile to find the right dragon to ask, but Mysteria knows a lot about history and she doesn’t mind writing it down. See you later!” “See you,” Makaria called before hastily taking flight. She flew high enough over Myrtle’s garden to avoid being shot down by a pumpkin, and deep into the woods beyond the lair. The Runic Mountain Range wasn’t all that different from the Starfall Isles, though Makaria had never seen the Starfall Isles before, and wasn’t sure why she could make that conclusion. The ground was earthy and interrupted in patches by shrapnels of pink crystal, and the trees shimmered strangely, purple-blue leaves producing an eerie light. It’d take her two days or so to make it to the ruins of a harpy camp that Ma’at wanted her to check out. The harpies were long gone, driven off by some dragon, but the ruins were a rich treasure hunting place for the members of other Beastclans, and fights often broke out. Makaria was only there to observe, however, and see the dynamics of the Beastclans in the Runic Mountain Range. If one of the clans proved to be capable of garnering respect from the others and potentially ally with those other clans, then she’d report back to Ma’at, who’d either tell Hathor or send someone to wipe that clan out. Either way, there wasn’t a hope of surviving for that strongest Beastclan, and Makaria would feel more bad about it if not for the fact she was used to this job. After a couple hours of flying, she glided down to perch on the branch of a tall pine, stretching her weary wings and settling down for a quick nap. She pulled out Valenya’s scroll, prepared to study a bit more history, when there was a tug deep in her gut. Then the darkness hit her so rapidly she didn’t have time to breathe.
Ḑ̕̕͜͝r͠e̸̴͘á́m̸̴͘̕͠e͜͟͝r̸̶̡ş̶̨͠͠,̶̕̕͝ ̧͘͘͠d҉r̶̸e҉҉̵҉ą̵̴̀m̵̶͟e̴̴r̷̴̢͞͠s̨͏,̡͝͞ ̕͞͡t̀͜͡h̵̶͜͝o̸͜͠s͜e͜҉̸̨ ̷̸̷̴w̵̧̕͟͡h̷̴̢ò̴̕͢ ̛́͘͟͝s͝҉̨̛ȩ̸͢e̢̛͜͡k̡͘͘͢͠.̶̧̧̕͞
͟͟͞ ́̀͘F҉́í͝͠n̶͘͞d͟҉͟ ҉͏̶t̵́h̨̀͠͠ę̧ ̧́̀͠͏s̶͏̧́͝i҉̀ņ̸̀͟g̶͏̷i̸̢҉n̕҉҉̴g̵̶̴̢ ̸̡̀̕͡g̕͡h̢͟͝҉ơ̴̡͞͞s͠͡͝t͏́͜͝s̛͡ ̴̵̨͢͡ẃ̷̴̢͢h̶̢̧͠ò͘͘͜ ̧҉ẃ̶͝é̢̨͢e̷̡͟͝p̸̢͘͜͝.҉̨͢ She was running, scrambling, tripping as the ground crumbled beneath her feet. The high-pitched pulse of magic tearing through space agitated the very morrow in her bones. There were cries all around, panicked shouts, warning screams, as the energy force ripped through the island. What had happened? What went wrong? They’d only sang that lullaby, the lullaby that was supposed to protect them from the seal, the spell. It was what they always did, so what went wrong? What had happened? “Forget it and run!” A Nocturne was shouting to the others, the black flames behind her vicious and dark. “Get off the island. Now!” “We can’t leave the seal!” Another dragon argued, and the voices were overlapping now, clashing against each other. “If it breaks-” “It will not!” the lullaby was echoing around them now, in the terrible voice of the ghosts that had died here long ago. “I’ve casted a spell, it’ll hold, the melody will hold, now we need to lea-” Flames. Shrieks. She tripped and went headfirst into the dirt. No. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. But the afterimage was burned into her mind like a brand, and there were no bodies, no blood, yet it was still the most gruesome scene that could ever be imagined. She choked on the acrid smoke, gagging, and grasped hard at the ground, only for it to disintegrate and send her falling into the unyielding darkness beyond.
Ę̵͏͏c͏̢h̶̨͏o̡͏,̵̸̛͘͜ ̡͢͝ę͡ć̶͝h̢̨̀́̕o̶͘͢͞,̢̢̀͟͜ ̛͝c̨͘͠u̸r̶̶͝͡ş͞è͘d̀͟͏ ͏̕͠ļ̶͞ư̷̵l̸̶̨͞͞ĺ̶̢̧̢a̶̡̨͝b̕͞y͜͜.͘͢ ͢҉T̷̕h̴͢͝o̷͜s̶҉̴͟e̢͝ ́͏̷͝w͏͟͝͝h̡͘o̷͡ ͏͘s̴̨í̷͞ń̷̡͠g̸͢͢ ͞҉í̸t̵̵̨҉ ̴̵́͠͡a̛͏̸r̕͏͠e̴̕ ̢͠d̵̶̨̛͏o͞o̷͝͝m̷̧e̛͟d͞ ̸̢̕͞ţ̨͠͡o҉̡͘͡ ̶̸̢̛͢ḑ̴̢͘í̸̡̢ę̶͜
This was something that had happened years ago, but she’d never been able to forget. She always wavered between reality and memory, present and past. And whenever she dreamed, she remembered. “Let me forget,” she sobbed as she fell, to whichever deity was still willing to listen. “Let me forget. Let me forget!” she screamed at the darkness. “I don’t want to remember!” Light. Almost as if she was waking. Shapes, moving quickly, slowly, moving around her. Warmth, she could feel, and she knew they were living bodies. But they weren’t her crewmates, they weren’t those she knew, and she was alone, alone,
A҉̵Ĺ̶͟O̴͢҉҉N̷̕͡͏É̴́
“Leave…” she whispered at the shapes around her, then louder. “Leave!” Don’t leave. And the cursed melody was there again, echoing around her, trapping her, and this couldn’t be reality, because it was here and it shouldn’t be. She couldn’t escape it, she could never escape it, she could never leave. It had taken everyone else, and now it was coming for her. A whimper slipped through her teeth, and she cried, into the unyielding abyss. She wanted to forget. If she could forget everything, that would be fine. If she could forget everyone, it would stop hurting. She woke up. Makaria jerked to wakefulness, almost falling off her tree branch. Her head throbbed, fragments of the nightmare stabbing at her, and she shook her head to clear away the foggy thoughts. What the hell had she been dreaming about? She remembered flames, screams, and nothing more. Looking around, Makaria realized it was quite late already. She was behind schedule, all because of a lousy dream. It was damp around her, so it must’ve rained or something while she was asleep. Annoyed, she tucked the scroll back into her knapsack and flexed her wings. Dreams! Such irritations. Perhaps she could see if someone had an anti-dreaming potion, the next time she went back to the clan. She had enough to worry about on her scouting mission. She didn’t need her own head messing with her. Makaria spread her wings and flew off. For the first time in the past three days, her heart started beating again. | ~~ |
§ Art by radishcake
§ Art by TsarinaTorment
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