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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
31.22 m
Wingspan
17.88 m
Weight
6358.49 kg
Genetics
White
Metallic
Metallic
Gold
Bee
Bee
Gold
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
Apollo Vhenom
Only I can see your truth...for 1,000 gold.
In an Ancient Lair of the Fortress of Ends, in the Southern Icefield, Apollo was born to Cygnus and Nugget. He inherited his mother's species, born an Imperial plain and white as snow, but upon hatching, he was considered "sickly." He had extremely delicate, paper-thin wings that threatened to tear against the slightest wind, and had no chance against the bitter wind that blasted through the region. Not physically suited for much else, he was destined for the life of a scholar - and so, he had never actually seen the outside world. Kept indoors as a hatchling, he was raised and trained as one of the most coveted positions an ice dragon could have: an archivist, analyzing and cataloguing the carefully preserved fossils and artifacts that his clan had collected. In his museum of wonders he spent his entire life, with other dragons bringing him survival necessities along with the beloved artifacts.
Apollo worked tirelessly. Day after day, he archived in his catalogues the world that was brought to him and the picture in his mind that he crafted of Sornieth was but snow, ancient trinkets and fossils. Daily scavenges brought new findings, and his clan depended on him to record it all. The lair had a large room with all their preserved belongings on display, The Museum, and in a small room adjoined to it, was Apollo's workshop, where he slept and archived. One day, another dragon in the clan brought him something unexpectedly modern.
"Here you go, Apollo," they said flatly. It was a Miniature Sornieth Globe.
"What's this?" Apollo questioned.
"It's called a globe, it's what the world looks like," the dragon explained, and pointed out the Southern Icefield, their home. Apollo was blown away - this is what the whole world looked like?
That night, Apollo didn't even notice what time it was. Working by candlelight, he continued recording in his catalogue while his new globe sat on the desk littered with fossils in front of him. The same dragon from earlier staggered in, as if they had just been sleeping.
"Apollo? What are you still doing up?" they asked, almost irritably.
"I have to catalogue these artifacts," Apollo said coldly. "It won't take long." He turned around and exchanged an icy glare with the other dragon. The dragon muttered and left, and Apollo focused on his work once more.
Another hour passed before Apollo's body had forced him to fall asleep among his papers and fossils. The candle had since burned out, and the globe rotated silently as only Apollo's breathing could be heard in the silent and chilly room. He dreamed of the world beyond the lair's walls, the colorful lands he remembered from the globe swirled in his head: pink, green, orange, gold, all the colors! An observatory, a tall pillar, a great tree - so many things he never knew were around him. He shifted and rustled in his papers as he slept, and a warm glow began to faintly light up the room. Ancient runes appeared one by one along Apollo's body, glowing brighter and brighter as each burned into him. Burned? Something's burning.
Apollo awoke in fright and pain. It felt like he was being prodded with dozens of blazing branding irons, and he had the symbols to prove it. The runes that lined him were still glowing with heat when he noticed a fire starting among his papers. "No, no, NO!" he shrieked as the fire spread. He jumped up, his wings flapping with anxiety, inadvertently fanning the flames. The flames rode on the gust he created were drawn closer to him, and as embers settled on his paper wings and began to devour them, Apollo howled in pain.
"STOP IT!" Apollo screamed at the fire. Everything he ever knew was at risk of being destroyed. "Somebody help me!"
His outcry appeared to make time itself stop. The fire and smoke was suspended there, like a still image as Apollo breathed heavily. He stared in confusion before getting up and looking around. The flames that were eating his wings had also halted, and all he was left with were holes around the edges. "Hello?" he called out, with a slight echo. The silence was deafening between his footsteps as he slowly exited the room. In the corridor of the museum, several of his clanmates stood like statues, their faces petrified. They appeared to have been running towards Apollo's room when time stopped. "What is this?" Apollo breathed with a shudder. He returned to his room out of fear, and found the Miniature Sornieth Globe untouched by the fire, but glowing. Apollo stomped out the defenseless and unmoving fire before investigating the globe.
The globe was glowing the same color as his runes, and he was afraid to touch it. "Time is stopped," Apollo said aloud, his voice breaking the silence. He waited a minute before asking, "why is this happening?" No one answered, and he could feel a strange but strong feeling growing deep inside him. He stood there as frozen as everything around him, eyes locked on the globe, breathing harder as the powerful feeling possessed him. "Aura!" he suddenly exclaimed, grabbing the globe by the observatory. Upon making contact, Apollo and the globe vanished from sight, and time resumed. The smoke dissipated, and half burnt papers fluttered in the commotion as Apollo's frightened clanmates rushed into the room. The archivist had disappeared.
Apollo had shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them again, he was nearly blinded by the sudden light and colors. Pink filled his vision and he stood clutching the globe on the ledge of a mountain as the sun rose on the sea's horizon. "Oh my Icewarden!" he screeched, claws digging into the rock as vertigo set in. The only experience he had was the life he lived in the museum room, and to find himself suddenly in the wilderness struck him with fear, and a curious hint of adventure.
He kept his weak and charred wings pulled tight to his body, and globe under his arm, he shakily tried to descend the cliff face. He couldn't fly nor could he swim, so there was no chance of him getting off the mountain, but maybe he could find something that could help him - maybe someone lived around here. Now that an Aura surrounded him, he could sense a mass collection of it nearby, and he knew it had to be other dragons.
He climbed down to the next ledge he could find. It was large and flat, and was the welcome mat of a gaping cave mouth. The Aura felt like it was inside, and uncharacteristically of his cowardice, he walked into the darkness. Once inside the cave, the Auras started to become more clear and distinct, with a violently powerful Aura seemingly overseeing it all. It suddenly dawned on Apollo that if he could feel their Auras, they could feel his too, and he stopped in his tracks. As if on cue, a Guardian patrolled out of the depths and met him in what felt like the cave's lobby. Though as an Imperial, Apollo was much larger than most dragons, he was still an inexperienced coward.
A pink speck flew towards him. "There it is," a small voice said. Apollo realized that the pink speck was a dragon: a Fae.
"Hail there!" The Guardian called. Before he could react, a Nocturne shot out of somewhere behind Apollo and breezed past him.
"I've determined that there is no threat," the Nocturne said, landing on the Guardian's back. "It is but a scholar," she said with mild disdain.
"Hey now," the Guardian scolded lightly. "We Arcane love nothing more, in fact, we could use more scholars. Our current state is almost... dishonorable," he shuddered.
The Fae was fluttering and struggling in the constant gust created by Apollo's nostrils. "I'll inform the monarchy at once!" the Fae cried before escaping Apollo's breath and returning deeper in the cave. From their Auras, Apollo could tell that the Fae was scholarly like himself, and that the Guardian and Nocturne were both warriors.
"I'm Circusmonster," announced the Guardian. "This is Bananabread, our Matron of War." He nodded back to the Nocturne perching on him - her sharp yellow eyes were piercing. "Who are you? What was it you did before you came here?" Circusmonster asked.
"I'm Apollo," he introduced himself. It was the first thing he managed to say since arriving. "I'm an archivist, I-I used to have a museum..." he stuttered and trailed off. All of his work, his clan, everything he had ever known had been left behind, and he suddenly remembered the globe under his arm.
"Oh, excellent," Circusmonster encouraged. "You can start a new museum here. Come!" With that, the Guardian turned his back and started into the tunnels as Bananabread hitched a free ride. Apollo felt compelled to follow, to join the collection of Aura and become a part of it.
From that moment on, Apollo joined the new clan, who were known as the clan of the Crystal Nook. The clan's healer attempted to restore Apollo's paper wings and remove the burn-mark runes, but damage remained with a magical force. He had developed a fear of fire since that fateful night, so he requested anything but a candle. He was then given a small and flexible headlamp with a bulb that never seemed to die out, allowing him to happily work into the night and return to normalcy. He picked up life where he left off: cataloguing the world that was brought to him. Settling into his new cave room, his new clanmates separated the hoard and brought the scavenged artifacts and fossils to him. Without a proper museum just yet, he sorted and displayed what he had in his own room.
On his new desk, the Miniature Sornieth Globe eerily spun as it always did; the bizarre object was somehow connected to his obtainment of Aura, the runes, and was able to manipulate Space-time. Holding a mirror to his side, Apollo recorded the runes that ran the length of his body, in hopes of one day transcribing them and finally unlocking the mystery.
Only I can see your truth...for 1,000 gold.
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~ APOLLO ~
 sheltered | nervous | curious
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» The Archivist » ♫ Theme » Imperial he/him » Mate of Snow
"Oh! I'm not used to visitors outside of clan members. But I guess this is the museum, after all. Excuse the mess, I was just cataloguing today's batch from scavenging. Right, the museum! Over here is our oldest item, a fossil believed to be from early Second Age... Second Age being, of course, the first time life apart from the deities was known to exist. Creatures that predate dragonkind... What? You're not here for the museum? Then what on Sornieth...? M-me?! Oh I see... You're visiting all of the clan. I don't know about the rest of them, but I wasn't born with Aura. Instead, it happened when I was an adult. Ah, what a strange tale... " |
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Prologue |
In an Ancient Lair of the Fortress of Ends, in the Southern Icefield, Apollo was born to Cygnus and Nugget. He inherited his mother's species, born an Imperial plain and white as snow, but upon hatching, he was considered "sickly." He had extremely delicate, paper-thin wings that threatened to tear against the slightest wind, and had no chance against the bitter wind that blasted through the region. Not physically suited for much else, he was destined for the life of a scholar - and so, he had never actually seen the outside world. Kept indoors as a hatchling, he was raised and trained as one of the most coveted positions an ice dragon could have: an archivist, analyzing and cataloguing the carefully preserved fossils and artifacts that his clan had collected. In his museum of wonders he spent his entire life, with other dragons bringing him survival necessities along with the beloved artifacts.
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Apollo and the Runes of Destiny |
Apollo worked tirelessly. Day after day, he archived in his catalogues the world that was brought to him and the picture in his mind that he crafted of Sornieth was but snow, ancient trinkets and fossils. Daily scavenges brought new findings, and his clan depended on him to record it all. The lair had a large room with all their preserved belongings on display, The Museum, and in a small room adjoined to it, was Apollo's workshop, where he slept and archived. One day, another dragon in the clan brought him something unexpectedly modern.
"Here you go, Apollo," they said flatly. It was a Miniature Sornieth Globe.
"What's this?" Apollo questioned.
"It's called a globe, it's what the world looks like," the dragon explained, and pointed out the Southern Icefield, their home. Apollo was blown away - this is what the whole world looked like?
That night, Apollo didn't even notice what time it was. Working by candlelight, he continued recording in his catalogue while his new globe sat on the desk littered with fossils in front of him. The same dragon from earlier staggered in, as if they had just been sleeping.
"Apollo? What are you still doing up?" they asked, almost irritably.
"I have to catalogue these artifacts," Apollo said coldly. "It won't take long." He turned around and exchanged an icy glare with the other dragon. The dragon muttered and left, and Apollo focused on his work once more.
Another hour passed before Apollo's body had forced him to fall asleep among his papers and fossils. The candle had since burned out, and the globe rotated silently as only Apollo's breathing could be heard in the silent and chilly room. He dreamed of the world beyond the lair's walls, the colorful lands he remembered from the globe swirled in his head: pink, green, orange, gold, all the colors! An observatory, a tall pillar, a great tree - so many things he never knew were around him. He shifted and rustled in his papers as he slept, and a warm glow began to faintly light up the room. Ancient runes appeared one by one along Apollo's body, glowing brighter and brighter as each burned into him. Burned? Something's burning.
Apollo awoke in fright and pain. It felt like he was being prodded with dozens of blazing branding irons, and he had the symbols to prove it. The runes that lined him were still glowing with heat when he noticed a fire starting among his papers. "No, no, NO!" he shrieked as the fire spread. He jumped up, his wings flapping with anxiety, inadvertently fanning the flames. The flames rode on the gust he created were drawn closer to him, and as embers settled on his paper wings and began to devour them, Apollo howled in pain.
"STOP IT!" Apollo screamed at the fire. Everything he ever knew was at risk of being destroyed. "Somebody help me!"
His outcry appeared to make time itself stop. The fire and smoke was suspended there, like a still image as Apollo breathed heavily. He stared in confusion before getting up and looking around. The flames that were eating his wings had also halted, and all he was left with were holes around the edges. "Hello?" he called out, with a slight echo. The silence was deafening between his footsteps as he slowly exited the room. In the corridor of the museum, several of his clanmates stood like statues, their faces petrified. They appeared to have been running towards Apollo's room when time stopped. "What is this?" Apollo breathed with a shudder. He returned to his room out of fear, and found the Miniature Sornieth Globe untouched by the fire, but glowing. Apollo stomped out the defenseless and unmoving fire before investigating the globe.
The globe was glowing the same color as his runes, and he was afraid to touch it. "Time is stopped," Apollo said aloud, his voice breaking the silence. He waited a minute before asking, "why is this happening?" No one answered, and he could feel a strange but strong feeling growing deep inside him. He stood there as frozen as everything around him, eyes locked on the globe, breathing harder as the powerful feeling possessed him. "Aura!" he suddenly exclaimed, grabbing the globe by the observatory. Upon making contact, Apollo and the globe vanished from sight, and time resumed. The smoke dissipated, and half burnt papers fluttered in the commotion as Apollo's frightened clanmates rushed into the room. The archivist had disappeared.
|
Apollo and the Arcane |
Apollo had shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them again, he was nearly blinded by the sudden light and colors. Pink filled his vision and he stood clutching the globe on the ledge of a mountain as the sun rose on the sea's horizon. "Oh my Icewarden!" he screeched, claws digging into the rock as vertigo set in. The only experience he had was the life he lived in the museum room, and to find himself suddenly in the wilderness struck him with fear, and a curious hint of adventure.
He kept his weak and charred wings pulled tight to his body, and globe under his arm, he shakily tried to descend the cliff face. He couldn't fly nor could he swim, so there was no chance of him getting off the mountain, but maybe he could find something that could help him - maybe someone lived around here. Now that an Aura surrounded him, he could sense a mass collection of it nearby, and he knew it had to be other dragons.
He climbed down to the next ledge he could find. It was large and flat, and was the welcome mat of a gaping cave mouth. The Aura felt like it was inside, and uncharacteristically of his cowardice, he walked into the darkness. Once inside the cave, the Auras started to become more clear and distinct, with a violently powerful Aura seemingly overseeing it all. It suddenly dawned on Apollo that if he could feel their Auras, they could feel his too, and he stopped in his tracks. As if on cue, a Guardian patrolled out of the depths and met him in what felt like the cave's lobby. Though as an Imperial, Apollo was much larger than most dragons, he was still an inexperienced coward.
A pink speck flew towards him. "There it is," a small voice said. Apollo realized that the pink speck was a dragon: a Fae.
"Hail there!" The Guardian called. Before he could react, a Nocturne shot out of somewhere behind Apollo and breezed past him.
"I've determined that there is no threat," the Nocturne said, landing on the Guardian's back. "It is but a scholar," she said with mild disdain.
"Hey now," the Guardian scolded lightly. "We Arcane love nothing more, in fact, we could use more scholars. Our current state is almost... dishonorable," he shuddered.
The Fae was fluttering and struggling in the constant gust created by Apollo's nostrils. "I'll inform the monarchy at once!" the Fae cried before escaping Apollo's breath and returning deeper in the cave. From their Auras, Apollo could tell that the Fae was scholarly like himself, and that the Guardian and Nocturne were both warriors.
"I'm Circusmonster," announced the Guardian. "This is Bananabread, our Matron of War." He nodded back to the Nocturne perching on him - her sharp yellow eyes were piercing. "Who are you? What was it you did before you came here?" Circusmonster asked.
"I'm Apollo," he introduced himself. It was the first thing he managed to say since arriving. "I'm an archivist, I-I used to have a museum..." he stuttered and trailed off. All of his work, his clan, everything he had ever known had been left behind, and he suddenly remembered the globe under his arm.
"Oh, excellent," Circusmonster encouraged. "You can start a new museum here. Come!" With that, the Guardian turned his back and started into the tunnels as Bananabread hitched a free ride. Apollo felt compelled to follow, to join the collection of Aura and become a part of it.
From that moment on, Apollo joined the new clan, who were known as the clan of the Crystal Nook. The clan's healer attempted to restore Apollo's paper wings and remove the burn-mark runes, but damage remained with a magical force. He had developed a fear of fire since that fateful night, so he requested anything but a candle. He was then given a small and flexible headlamp with a bulb that never seemed to die out, allowing him to happily work into the night and return to normalcy. He picked up life where he left off: cataloguing the world that was brought to him. Settling into his new cave room, his new clanmates separated the hoard and brought the scavenged artifacts and fossils to him. Without a proper museum just yet, he sorted and displayed what he had in his own room.
On his new desk, the Miniature Sornieth Globe eerily spun as it always did; the bizarre object was somehow connected to his obtainment of Aura, the runes, and was able to manipulate Space-time. Holding a mirror to his side, Apollo recorded the runes that ran the length of his body, in hopes of one day transcribing them and finally unlocking the mystery.
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BELONGINGS 
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RELATIONSHIPS
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AWARDS 
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