Malacoda

Malacoda has a fondness for snakes, spiders, and scorpions, especially the venomous kind. That being said, he's also takes safety seriously when handling such creatures and won't let hatchlings near any of his stuff, even while supervised. He's trained himself a little in poison healing with a small garden of herbs and ointments, just in case. You wouldn't think he'd be good at gardening, but the gentle touch he uses when carefully handling his pets works wonders on the plants he tends to.

-Malacoda's curse was brought upon by the Plaguebringer herself, as punishment for deeds that he refuses to speak about. When anyone asks about the curse, he turns away quickly, muttering about rotten wood and creeping tendrils.
-Despite his outer appearance, Malacoda does not smell like a corpse would. Instead, he carries with him the smell of roses and mint leaves, which wafts around him and distracts other dragons from his looks. Some say he does it on purpose; others, that it's a side effect.
-Malacoda loves hatchlings, while hatchlings are wary of him. He's never wanted children of his own, but he loves watching nesting parents as they prepare for hatchday, and he likes playing with curious hatchlings that find him not to be scary.
-Malacoda is terrified of crows and other birds of prey. He notices how they eye him, as though they're waiting for the day when he falls into eternal sleep. Because of this, other dragons in the lair have gotten into the habit of scaring birds away whenever he draws near.
-Malacoda is a vulture culture enthusiast, collecting the remains of other dragon's hunts and decorating his cave with them. He especially likes a snake skull that he has, and displays it proudly above his door at all times.

Malacoda is a terrifying dragon. He wears the the skulls and bones of his defeated enemies to intimidate every dragon in the lair. Despite his eerie look, he is a great leader, and can often be seen encouraging the young dragons in their play-fights, or holding meetings to discuss food supply. He does not have any children, but secretly would love to have some.

@charlimes: Okay this guy really caught my eye. He's terrifying! His future plans definitely make him the scariest dragon I've seen in your lair. I definitely do NOT want to come across this guy on a dark deserted night. He'd probably rip my throat on sight.

@Djinyatta: You have a ton of amazing dragons (that also fit the theme), but my 'winner' here has to be Malacoda!
Just look at that skin - she looks like a dragon spirit who is the embodiment of evil and totally has some kind of skinwalker aesthetic!

Malacoda has been spotted by...




The hollow behemoth Grimm!

---

For others, it is a quiet night. The moon hangs above them all, a gently glowing orb that grants little light for those awake.

It does not bother Grimm. The voices in his head are a cacophony tonight, screaming so loud and making his ears ring. He does not know how long he has been walking. Upon the first whisper, the imperial had simply gotten up and started flying.

A scream erupted from inside his head, bouncing around in his skull until his bones ached.

Grimm tilted, heading towards the ground at an alarming speed, uncaring of whether his worn out body were damaged in his crash. He would welcome death if it meant sweet silence. Unfortunately, dying wasn't his fate tonight; Grimm landed in a bank of fresh, soft snow.

Struggling to stand up, the voices silent in their shock, Grimm sent a cascade of brilliant white in a halo around him.

In the absence of malicous whispers, he realized he was not alone. There was a pearlcatcher, standing off in the distance. A voice in his head hisses something vulgar, something vile, but Grimm brushes the words aside with a flick of a tattered ear.

This stranger makes the voices uneasy. They fall silent at the sight of exposed bone and cobwebs - no whispers, no screaming, no demands that he go on a bloody rampage.

Grimm starts slowly towards the smaller male, finding his scarred limbs heavy and numb. Was this the demon's doing? Were the things inside him trying to keep him from this dragon?

The effort only emboldened him, and with an impatient snarl he forced his lethargic body to move, to go towards the stranger with the hanging tendons and extra horns.

He didn't have to go far.

The pearlcatcher met him halfway, allowing Grimm to collapse into the ice and snow, breathing raspy and labored. Green eyes watch him, wary and yet unafraid.

"I am not...making much of a...good impression, am I?" Grimm managed to wheeze, voice scratchy and hoarse. When had he last spoken aloud, when had the voices in his head been so quiet? Just looking down at this dragon, who had yet to run away from him - from his dead eyes, from his size, from the green that festered along his body and turned him into something feral.

Grimm slowly lowered his head, letting his white-painted snout touch the cold frost of the ground; he had to meet that wary gaze, had to try and make this dragon know what he could do.

"I think...you may be....my savior, stranger..."

---

It's not....exactly flirting, but Grimm isn't the flirtatious type, and I'm willing to bet neither is Malacoda. But I thought a skinwalker and a vessel for hell might get along~.

I realize this dragon already has quite some lore on his page, but something in his appearance made me instantly think of a headcanon for him, so I still chose him. He just seems very interesting.
Hope you don't mind;

Originally from the zephyr steppes, Malacoda has been travelling the world since birth. Starting out as a happy, free wind dragon, he soon learned the dangers of travelling alone. Him carrying a valuable pearl with him at all times, might have attracted quite a few of those dangers. He has had to fight of highwaymen, bandits, and many creatures most dragons only encounter in the coliseum. And it has made him strong.

He learned to use the hides of creatures he defeated to make shape-shift armor, and over time some of his armor has been reduced to little more than rags covering his wings, yet he can't quite bring himself to remove these; they remind him of the fight where he gained them, the things he learned at that time, and warn him to never stop being alert.

There are rumors that on his travels, Malacoda has encountered some of the deeper evils of the world. He came out alive, but there is something in his eyes, indicating a strong, lingering evil, his mind still battles to this very day.