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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.58 m
Wingspan
5.87 m
Weight
563.83 kg
Genetics
Robin
Pinstripe
Pinstripe
Robin
Trail
Trail
Amber
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 12 Skydancer
EXP: 6239 / 38956
STR
49
AGI
12
DEF
8
QCK
27
INT
5
VIT
25
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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Unnamed
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| Personality |
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_orem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit. _orem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit. |
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B I O G R A P H Y
The dragon had been engrossed in conversation for quite some time now, a claw perched perfectly under her chin as he listened to the spiral that sat across from her. He’d been droning on for a good portion of the night, more ranting than anything truly substantial. But the skydancer nodded along, applying polite smiles and appropriately asking questions when it was clear the other dragon was interested in encouragement to continue. ”And you had that letter, from the king?” she asked, her eyes bright and gleaming like the lantern light off of her thin chains. The spiral, had he any feathers like the skydancer, would’ve certainly preen under the gaze. He nodded knowingly, smiling back before answering. ”Of course, my dear! They had to let me through after that, presenting it to show my official summons. I must say, those guards were not dressed regally, though. Practically distracting, what with their worn, dirtied tartans and the chainmail looking as if it had been left out too long in the rain…” and so he continued again, caught on another branching of describing the guards rather than telling the story of his meeting with a far away clan’s king. Still she listened, showing no waiver of disinterest on her face. Eventually she left the spiral, due mostly to the fact that it had grown late and she had apologized profusely to him for having to be rude and excuse herself. He had understood, and with a polite farewell, the skydancer returned to her own home. The shift of her nature happened then, once the door had closed behind her. Kekalt’s face had remained a serene neutrality during her walk, and as she settled in front of a mirror in her bed chamber it disappeared. As if removing a mask, the skydancer stared at herself in the mirror as if finally recognizing her reflection as the real Kekalt. ”Oh, that was agony.” she murmured quietly to herself, rubbing a claw against the bridge of her snout. ”Why would anyone care on the state of armor? His priorities are so terribly off I wouldn’t be surprised if he insulted the king on accident but was so focused on the tiles of the palace he didn’t realize.” She leaned forward on perched elbows, sighing and glad to be out of view from the public for a little while. She was worn thin that day, and her last interaction that evening having made her so weary that she was certain she’d sleep for days at that point. Kekalt leaned back and stared at herself, smiling a little as she’d done many times during the day. The smile did not reach her eyes however, and she grew angry at how fake she looked. ”You aren’t real,” she glared, eyes full of a hatred that none had ever seen. One that no one would ever see. ”A fraud. A mask. Pretty smiles and made up.” she continued her beratement of herself - of her fake self - then let out another sigh. Bowing her head she shook it gently, ignoring the fat angry tear that splashed on the table her mirror was perched upon. She hated the falseness, the shroud of sweetened deceit she wore outside of her house, but she couldn’t bear to act any different. Was her true self that ugly? Was it too awful for the world? Did that not in part make her an ugly person? ”That’s right,” she heard herself murmur. ”You are ugly.” she looked up, her eyes sad now rather than angry. She regarded her features, as if it would prove the sentiment wrong. She was a lovely skydancer, and all knew it. Her hues of blue were accented by her silks, the chains she wore her favorite accessory and gaining many compliments. That always made her internally laugh with a bitter reflection, knowing the true reason behind them and yet those around her did not. Each time it felt like another reminder she was not a pretty person, even if they were saying she were within the same breath. No, physically Kekalt believed herself lovely. She downplayed it in public of course, using it more to aid her in creating the visual of a beautiful yet humble and polite young skydancer. In private she was sad and angry that no one ever saw that beauty within, despite not truly knowing what actually dwelled there. Not some sweet, ignorant lass, but an intelligent and sharp dragon who had thought up several snide remarks before opening her mouth to say something nice instead.  |
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B I O G R A P H Y
She turned away from her reflection, staring out into her warmly lit home. She felt the sadness still radiating in her, the fear of being unloved if she were to be her true self. Pretty dragons should have pretty personalities, she thought, and no one would care for the pretty dragon who could snap out a retort that might bruise an ego on the fly. You had to look your part, and had to act it too. That was her motto at least, what had kept her safe. The comfortable home she had, the warmth of a bed and all her furnishings was not from being herself. It was from being this false version of herself that good things had come to her, and it hurt more to admit that than she would’ve liked. ”Deceitful,” that was the word. She was deceitful. A flare surged up in her then, and her face hardened into a scowl. ”Why should I even be nice to them? They think I’m stupid, that I’m some docile little thing and treat me as such. I may be deceitful but are they not also full of lies?” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, her wings hitting the edge of the table. Kekalt had never stolen before, had never said mean things about someone (out loud or outside her home) or started fights. She’d shy away from those fights, give extra food to the needy, and never acted badly in public. To her, that meant she was at least decent, and perhaps a shred of her true self shone through some of her actions, surely. Why would she do them when others so openly were terrible without any remorse, without any attempt to be better or at least look decent? Kekalt cast a look down at the floor, then turned to look back at her mirror. She turned fully, looking at it squarely now, and at her reflection once more. Draining days often opened up with this heavy reflection come nightfall, when her mask slipped away and her true self was at its limit. Tomorrow she would avoid the spiral, so as to not get sucked into his conversation. Tonight however, she smiled. It was a fake smile, one that this time did reach her eyes. Well, enough to look convincing, and that made her content. ”There. Good.” she praised herself, then smiled again. ”Better.”
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R E L A T I O N S H I P. I
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FAVORITES
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DETAILS
ROLE xxxxx■ role TRAITS xxxxx■ Intellectually focused, Always thinking about or studying something, probably reads way too much into things LIKES xxxxx■ likes, likes |
DETAILS
DISLIKES xxxxx■ dislikes, dislikes STRENGTHS xxxxx■ strengths, strengths WEAKNESSES xxxxx■ weaknesses, weaknesses FEARS xxxxx■ fears, fears
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TIDBITS
■ collecting rocks ■ speaks so quiet they're practically whispering all the time, sometimes even though you see their mouth moving you swear there's no sound coming out at all ■ loves to sing and hum all the time, like even in a super serious situation like at a funeral or something, every 15 minutes they'd have to stop themselves from accidentally starting to do a little dance and softly mumbling a tune under their breath |
RELATIONS
NAME xxxxx■ relation NAME xxxxx ■ relation NAME xxxxx ■ relation NAME xxxxx■ relation |
INVENTORY
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