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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.72 m
Wingspan
6.12 m
Weight
588.58 kg
Genetics
Pistachio
Pinstripe
Pinstripe
Pistachio
Trail
Trail
Pistachio
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 3 Nocturne
EXP: 349 / 1401
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
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AUGUSTE
Sentry • Ghost
Lately there have been strange instances of things moving without explanation, or of strange chills breezing through the corridors, and occasionally a strange nocturne will wander down the halls, lingering just out of sight. Everyone suspects Obscura behind the missing items and illusions; when they ask, she tells them it's Auguste trying to be help. No one really believes her. Obscura may be a mischief-maker, but she's no liar. Auguste is real, and her curiosity gets the better of her sometimes. She likes to hang around during lectures, and to investigate stray items left out in the open. |
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There, laying on the table next to her equipment, was a tattered old journal, one she didn't recognize.
With gentle claws, Carpo lifted it from its place, and let out a low, dismayed hum as, despite her care, pages slid free and scattered across the floor of her workshop. She bent to pick up the pages, and her dismay deepened when she saw the pages were torn, some beyond recognition, raked through by frantic claws, eager to hide the secrets within the book.
She tutted with disdain and began to look through the scattered pages in an attempt to find their order, only to realize that it was someone's personal journal, based on the elegant handwriting. But most of the pages were too badly damaged to be made sense of.
One in particular caught her eyes. The words had mostly been scratched out with a swift quill stroke, the edges of the page torn or singed.
But for one single line that she could just barely read.
Some are born lucky. I was one of them. Once.
With gentle claws, Carpo lifted it from its place, and let out a low, dismayed hum as, despite her care, pages slid free and scattered across the floor of her workshop. She bent to pick up the pages, and her dismay deepened when she saw the pages were torn, some beyond recognition, raked through by frantic claws, eager to hide the secrets within the book.
She tutted with disdain and began to look through the scattered pages in an attempt to find their order, only to realize that it was someone's personal journal, based on the elegant handwriting. But most of the pages were too badly damaged to be made sense of.
One in particular caught her eyes. The words had mostly been scratched out with a swift quill stroke, the edges of the page torn or singed.
But for one single line that she could just barely read.
Some are born lucky. I was one of them. Once.
Date ████
Hello! This is my first time writing in a journal. I don't know quite what I'm to do. Should I tell you about myself? My name is ████ and I have
Hello! This is my first time writing in a journal. I don't know quite what I'm to do. Should I tell you about myself? My name is ████ and I have
The page is ripped through, but Carpo finds herself amused by the few lines she'd read.
How childish.
How childish.
Date ████
Sister left. She found a mate. Says she loves him,
He's ugly.
Date ████
She's dead.
They said it was an accident. Liars.
Date ████
Father called me ungrateful today. Said we live a charmed life, we do. The height of dragon society. Wind dragons, he says, have the strongest wings, and our Clan is the strongest. We were blessed by the Windsinger himself.
Father says I'm selfish. Oh well.
Date ████
He came back today. The ugly one.
I scratched his face.
Father yelled.
He always was blind.
Date ████
They can't find the ugly one. They came and asked us if we'd seen him but no one had.
Well, I did. But I didn't tell them that.
It's better that way, I think.
Sister left. She found a mate. Says she loves him,
He's ugly.
Date ████
She's dead.
They said it was an accident. Liars.
Date ████
Father called me ungrateful today. Said we live a charmed life, we do. The height of dragon society. Wind dragons, he says, have the strongest wings, and our Clan is the strongest. We were blessed by the Windsinger himself.
Father says I'm selfish. Oh well.
Date ████
He came back today. The ugly one.
I scratched his face.
Father yelled.
He always was blind.
Date ████
They can't find the ugly one. They came and asked us if we'd seen him but no one had.
Well, I did. But I didn't tell them that.
It's better that way, I think.
Carpo can't find the pages following the last entry. She searches frantically, eager and a little alarmed by the story unfolding.
There's a single loose leaf sticking from the torn journal, and she opens it, realizing with a start that it details the days or weeks following the last entry.
There's a single loose leaf sticking from the torn journal, and she opens it, realizing with a start that it details the days or weeks following the last entry.
Date ████
They're getting close to finding the ugly one, I think. He's uglier now. But now it's physical, too. His outward looks match what I saw from the start. It's kind of funny, isn't it? Isn't it?
I think I'll leave soon. Before they find him, probably.
There's a troupe of circus performers visiting the Cloudsong now. Maybe I'll join them. They're so fun.
I think I'd be a great clown. Sister always said I was funny.
Date ████
They found him this morning. I have to leave now. I'll write again soon.
They're getting close to finding the ugly one, I think. He's uglier now. But now it's physical, too. His outward looks match what I saw from the start. It's kind of funny, isn't it? Isn't it?
I think I'll leave soon. Before they find him, probably.
There's a troupe of circus performers visiting the Cloudsong now. Maybe I'll join them. They're so fun.
I think I'd be a great clown. Sister always said I was funny.
Date ████
They found him this morning. I have to leave now. I'll write again soon.
Carpo looks frantically again, but most of the pages are destroyed now. Pages are torn to shreds, unreadable, or burned or scribbled over until the words are unintelligible.
The next entry she finds is... disjointed.
The next entry she finds is... disjointed.
A new acrobat joined us a few days ago. She talked with me for an hour today, and I realized she's very generous and kind. She told me I'm pretty. Maybe she's blind, too, just like Father and Sister.
She's too pretty for us. I told her she should leave.
I think I offended her.
But if she stays, she'll turn ugly, too.
They always do.
She's too pretty for us. I told her she should leave.
I think I offended her.
But if she stays, she'll turn ugly, too.
They always do.
Here, most of the pages are destroyed, leaving only a sparse few pages at the end of the journal, and most of them are blank.
Date ████
The tent burned down while we were performing. It was scary.
But I don't think it's so bad.
We were all ugly.
I dug you out of the rubble. I'm glad you survived. Well, mostly. You're a little burned. I guess that's okay.
There are some travelers here. They're digging through the embers, pulling survivors from the ash and tending to them.
I see the acrobat. She survived. There's a pretty imperial tending to her injuries. I heard him call her pretty. I guess he's blind like everyone else. I was right, you know. She's ugly now, too. She didn't leave, like I said.
I miss Sister.
...the travelers will leave eventually. I think I'll go with them. The troupe is mostly dead now, anyways.
Date ████
This place is pretty. There are some ugly dragons here, but I think they're mostly "guests."
I think the pretty mirror... Luus, I think, is her name? I think she drives out most of the ugly. I'm glad she's not blind.
I wonder if she'll let me stay. I'm not pretty like everyone else here.
Date ████
I think the pretty mirror is letting me stay.
You're more damaged than I realized. I think I'll have you repaired. Won't that be nice?
The tent burned down while we were performing. It was scary.
But I don't think it's so bad.
We were all ugly.
I dug you out of the rubble. I'm glad you survived. Well, mostly. You're a little burned. I guess that's okay.
There are some travelers here. They're digging through the embers, pulling survivors from the ash and tending to them.
I see the acrobat. She survived. There's a pretty imperial tending to her injuries. I heard him call her pretty. I guess he's blind like everyone else. I was right, you know. She's ugly now, too. She didn't leave, like I said.
I miss Sister.
...the travelers will leave eventually. I think I'll go with them. The troupe is mostly dead now, anyways.
Date ████
This place is pretty. There are some ugly dragons here, but I think they're mostly "guests."
I think the pretty mirror... Luus, I think, is her name? I think she drives out most of the ugly. I'm glad she's not blind.
I wonder if she'll let me stay. I'm not pretty like everyone else here.
Date ████
I think the pretty mirror is letting me stay.
You're more damaged than I realized. I think I'll have you repaired. Won't that be nice?
Carpo stops, frowning.
So there's a new arrival in the Clan.
Well, if Luus approves them, she supposes they must not be that bad. Still, it would be nice to meet them before she repairs their journal. Learn their preferences.
She sighs and turns to inspect the binding of the book, analyzing the best course of action for its repair.
Then she reaches for the stack of pages.
And stops.
Fresh ink is appearing across the page, in elegant, looping handwriting, the words forming as Carpo watches.
So there's a new arrival in the Clan.
Well, if Luus approves them, she supposes they must not be that bad. Still, it would be nice to meet them before she repairs their journal. Learn their preferences.
She sighs and turns to inspect the binding of the book, analyzing the best course of action for its repair.
Then she reaches for the stack of pages.
And stops.
Fresh ink is appearing across the page, in elegant, looping handwriting, the words forming as Carpo watches.
Date ████
The imperial... her name is Carpo, I think. She's the one who's going to repair you.
She's very pretty.
The imperial... her name is Carpo, I think. She's the one who's going to repair you.
She's very pretty.
For a moment, Carpo is very still. Then she speaks a soft, "Who are you?"
And for a few sparse moments, the small frame of a beautiful little, striped nocturne appears, bent over the pages with a quill in claw, but her head is lifted to stare at her.
"I like to go by Auguste now."
And then the apparition disappears.
And for a few sparse moments, the small frame of a beautiful little, striped nocturne appears, bent over the pages with a quill in claw, but her head is lifted to stare at her.
"I like to go by Auguste now."
And then the apparition disappears.
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