Flightstorm
(#50333823)
but if something's gotta give
Familiar
Stormcloud Miller
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Female Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.88 m
Wingspan
3.74 m
Weight
342.07 kg
Genetics
Auburn
Metallic
Metallic
Copper
Bee
Bee
Umber
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Pearlcatcher
Max Level
STR
130
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
49
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
5
Biography
-
"and in the end, we clash our blades
and spill our blood for something great
we claim to be the heroes, hey
'cause something's always gotta change."
-
"The one who tells the stories rules the world."
WISHLIST
"and in the end, we clash our blades
and spill our blood for something great
we claim to be the heroes, hey
'cause something's always gotta change."
-
"The one who tells the stories rules the world."
WISHLIST
(note: heavy WIP)
Want
—————————————————————————————
- Flight here!
Flightstorm is the statue that watches over her claim - the West Shores and the Elenar Kingdom Domain. Some say she is a spirit entombed within a statue, the original one who cursed the Petronella legacy as a misguided form of protection. Others whisper of her being the one who orchestrates all the ruin that happens within her lands.
Of course, she merely watches, never helping or aiding. She only observes.
"spin your stories, works of art
trials to the broken heart,
a tragedy is well and good;
all heroes are misunderstood."
xxx
Her people do not believe in deities, anymore.
She supposes it isn't fair of her to hurt at the fact. The truth was, it wasn't that her people had left their gods, it was that their gods had left them. To grow angry, bitter, resentful was only their right. It still stung, the crack in her pearl where the blow their unbelief had struck.
She only watches these days. It hurts too much to try and uncoil from the statue her soul has become, when all that waits for her is a land that hardly remembers. There was once a time when her name was sung, when her love was pure and moved mountains for her people. When it made something real. When it meant something.
What is love worth, if it changes nothing? If she changes nothing?
Her people suffer, and she feels their hurt. They hurt because they suffer, and they hurt because no god will help them. The high deities have long since sank into slumber, uncaring whatever fate their children may fall into. The local deities, like she, like her neighbors--they have little power, but they can do so much with it. Most choose to do little. Most are like her, and choose to do nothing at all.
At least she's still here. At least she hasn't truly left to try and wake the high deities, hasn't turned back on their clan like the progenitors before her did. She's not the first blood of her domain, but her love was strong, and her name once held weight. She was clanborn, and loved here, and that meant something once. Once she was esteemed and cherished and worshipped. Once she was the figurehead of the clan. Once--
She still is, but they don't bear her name anymore. She's just a myth, now. Just a statue in the center of her domain, claws clutching cracked earth that crumbles under her, wings spread and gaze cast skyward in eternal longing. Like she wants to leave this place. Leave her heart, her home behind. Return to the deities who abandoned them, abandon her domain like her predecessors did.
Sometimes she wants to go. She wants it more than anything, thinks of her worthless copper scales and the lack of beauty and power and poise left in her. She's an empty shell, and there's nothing and no one in these lands left to save. The rot is too deep. There is nothing for her here.
And there is nothing for them in her. Her people once cried for her to wake and return, urged and prayed and wept and grieved. But she's been here all this time. She didn't rouse to interfere in their mortal affairs, however, and they lost faith. Now they curse her instead of pray to her. Now her love is a rumor instead of a promise.
Why should she stay when they don't want her anymore? She looks at these lands, observes out of the corner of her frozen eyes, and wonders. She could leave this shell, statue-like, stiff and unmoving. She's stagnated. There's nothing but weak embers left in her--she could pass it to someone new, someone with passion and purpose, someone worthy. Someone with the will to save her home.
But this is her home. Her domain. It's her job to save it, and now failing that, her duty to watch it crumble before her. Hers to love and despair over. She's the only original immortal left, the only one who stayed, the only one who had enough love to remain. Now that love feels meaningless, more like a thread than a tether. Now it barely keeps her here at all. Now she is just a memory in a statue that is too cowardly to break away from her self-made prison.
She cannot move--cannot summon the will to move. She can see, she can feel, she can hear, she can smell. There is nothing but ash to taste. There is nothing but smoke on the horizon, rising above cutting mountains, and an emptiness in her that spreads cracks through her pearl, after all these centuries still clasped between her frozen claws.
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Exalting Flightstorm 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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