queenmera » Hibernal Den » Ilya

Ilya

(#45236427)

Level 7 Spiral

Familiar

Tatterwing Carcass

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.27 m

Wingspan

2.98 m

Weight

93.2 kg

Genetics

Purple
Pinstripe

Purple
Trail

Cream
Glimmer

Hatchday

Sep 16, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Spiral

Eye Type

Ice
Unusual

Level 7 Spiral

EXP: 1334 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

THE WATCHMAN

Ilya Alcamaedon

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upkeep; doorman.
he/him.
gay.
two hundred and sixty years old.

A gloved hand pushes glasses further up his face, the glare obscuring the one eye left in his face. The snap of a pocket watch sealing shut and the resulting thump of the ledger held open, his gaze- you presume- never wavering from your face as he writes without looking. Time, date, name, reason of visit. It's a little frightening how quickly his demeanour changes when the confirmation comes- his face splits into a confident smile, the ledger tucked to his chest as he bows, welcomes you in, gives you shockingly clear directions and a small piece of advice.

He is the keeper of the Cathedral. It's doorman, watchman, and judge. Ilya Alcamaedon, with snake-like eyes (eye), and a switching demeanour. The mask slides from one to the other, all true. Loyal and lawful to the edge of his teeth, unable to be bribed, moved, or lied to. He knows everyone and everything that's going on and keeps the clock running on time, he knows you're late and he isn't happy about it. He runs the library in the spare time there's no way he even has- yet here he is, sat at the library's desk, looking somewhere between smug and bored with a hint of playfulness in the turn of his lips. The smell of tangerines and pine needles follows him around, sweet and sharp.

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family:
friends: kyne, oksana
enemies: n/a
lovers: n/a

Yet when he lets his hair down, so to speak, he's an impressive pianist, a huge gossip hound, a flirtatious wreck, shrewd and intelligent, withdrawn, outgoing, smiling and yet looking a little lost. A sway to his hips, a glass of wine in his hands. His mind will not turn off, nor his morals. The music runs in his veins, the hands dance across the keys, he leans his head back and sways, sways, at peace and vulnerable. It's strange, isn't it. Everyone is the same, and the right words unlock people like puzzle boxes. He can sweet talk, though he'd rather not, rather speak his mind. People are rude to guards. They don't like to be stopped and questioned- disillusioned, you could say, they say the other book he carries is saucy fiction. No way to know, his hands move whip fast, prying hands all pushed away.

Tick tock.

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Ilya to the service of the Flamecaller 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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