Havok
(#42279651)
Level 1 Wildclaw
Nekka
Slight Eyewing
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Wildclaw
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.61 m
Wingspan
4.73 m
Weight
474.77 kg
Genetics
Dirt
Python
Python
Navy
Morph
Morph
Goldenrod
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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| ___ |
_______________________ I wish there was another way out! Voices won't go away, They stay for days and days, They say some awful things, Ways to make you fade away, I don't think no one's home, And we're just here alone, I better find you first, Before you find the phone! Better run, better run, better run, yeah, I'm coming after you, When you're sleeping at night, yeah, there's nothing you can do, There's no place you can hide 'cause I'm coming after you~.... I wish there was another way out for you! Wish there was another way out for you! I wish there was another way out! I wish there was another way out! I wish there was another way out! You gave up? I'll check and see, No one cares less than me, Dead wrong, I guess you'll be, These voices won't let you leave, Got you down on bended knee, What should my next weapon be? It's over, you can't breathe, Just sleep now, rest in peace! |
━━━━━━━ about ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
  
» "They think they are in control? They have no idea what I'm capable of." «
Havok is.... chaotic, simply put. He lies, cheats, and steals his way to the top, and is damn determined to stay there. His good looks have gotten him into many situations, both good and bad. He embraces them all, and subtly removes all those who threaten him. Hatched long ago as a Mirror, in the time very near after the Eleven's domains and their children were driven crazy from the influxes of magic, uprisings, discoveries, and in the worst cases - natural disasters. When he had been hatched.... there had been a recent biological outbreak between the domains of Nature and Plague. The First Seed had been plunged into the ground of a designated quarantine zone in Plague's domain, instantly erupting life from its center at a chaotic, devastating rate - and even then, after all of that.... even more hell broke loose, as the domains of Nature and Plague finally fell into war with each other. He was hatched under the threat of war times, and that was quick to change him, once the threat finally became reality. He steadily grew numb to the warring domains at an early age, as well as making the decision early on that it was better to fend for himself - and only himself. No deity, no domain, and certainly no dragon nor beast, had his loyalty. Even while under the care of his adoptive father Faolan, he refused to trust the Coatl - entirely at least. He couldn't help but kind of love the dragon, begrudgingly. Same with his siblings Mystogan, and Hadal. He broke off as soon as he had the chance, leaving his father and his two siblings behind. He became a double agent, since it paid good money. So why the hell not? Multiple acts of treason and potential attacks on his life be damned. He was Plague. Survival is earned, not given. He may not pledge allegiance to the Plaguemother, but he sure as hell appreciates the assets She gifted him.  | ___ |
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_______________________
━━━━━━━ origin ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
  
» "Survival isn't a right, it's a privilege. It's earned. That's the one thing we've always agreed on. If they deserve to live then, they'd be strong enough to stop us and smart enough never to trust anyone." «
His egg festered and bathed in the beloved Plaguemother's Essence, and his eyes, along with his tiny Mirror body, were scalded by Her beauty. He hatched not long after being fished out from the Wyrmwound, and the horrors of Her aforementioned beauty were ever so clearly seen on his small, yet strong form. And when his eyes opened.... they almost resembled the Wyrmwound itself. His hatching was a sign from the Plaguemother Herself, as the copious influx of their Deities's magic swirled throughout Sorienth. Those who found him were keen on keeping the magically blessed Mirror around, raising him as their own. A rag-tag mishap of dragons, most being Mirrors themselves, with the occasional Skydancer or Wildclaw. They raised Havok as their own child, being his many mothers and many fathers, in place of who or what created him - then abandoned him in the acidic, disease-ridden vat known as the Wyrmwound. Until all of them disappeared. One by one. The only one left, was a cheery, all too soft and sweet young Coatl named Faolan. |
_______________________ Note who’s got to go, today, don’t fuss, about the means, just go ahead behead, impale, starve, strappado, the sheer assortment, of choices enough, to make a crown crow. They never, loved me enough. It must be said: They, were a disappointment. When Divine Mother, love wears out, I just, reverse the robe, from blue to red. I like a flat ground, to build the next town, city, empire of disgust. All the waste you see, that’s what I did, none of that happened, to me. I did that. I made that. I killed that. I. | ___ |
| ___ |
_______________________ We danced to rancorous tunes on spiked ground and our knees sang with each puncture, so that several agouti colonies, melanic in our russet strengths, learned as wild rats to scurry or guard ourselves from skin-spite. Immune from nocturnal drowsiness, we strong-bellied creatures assembled, campaigned; gyrated to blowed trumpets and cradled songs, but, us black rats with our rogue swagger that spoke, of foreign ports, pranced our survival shuffle in night’s murky dance halls. Each step our single prayer, each jab our benediction. This tart sermon containered our septic hurts and lean swaggers. On the strike of dawn, we skittered from shadows, the redeemed walking day’s straight-road into warpland. |
━━━━━━━ hoard ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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_______________________
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notes ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   
» "God give me Voice, God guide my Hand." «
» [The luckiest hatch I've ever gotten....] [Thanks RNG.] [Fully gened as of 6 • 8 • 18] [WC Scrolled as of 3 • 18 • 19] » Havok utterly adores the color gold, and regularly paints his body in it. » Many have whispered under hushed breaths that they've seen him bathing in real gold. Some take it a step further, and whisper that he bleeds golden ichor. He doesn't deny their claims. » Havok's very openly fluid when it comes to his appearance and style. One day he can be spotted in a light summer dress and the next, he's been seen in a professional suit and tie. » Everyone agrees that he's gorgeous no matter how he dresses. |
_______________________ Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men - but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed, I raved, I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder. Louder! Louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! No, no! They heard! They suspected! They knew! They were making a mockery of my horror! This, I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now --again! Hark! Louder! Louder! Louder! LOUDER! "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! Tear up the planks! here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!" | ___ |
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Meat stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Havok to the service of the Tidelord 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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