Empire
(#52222065)
Level 1 Nocturne
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.05 m
Wingspan
7.33 m
Weight
646.09 kg
Genetics
Plum
Starmap
Starmap
Plum
Constellation
Constellation
Fog
Filigree
Filigree
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Nocturne
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
Librarian (Unsure what I/was meant by this??)
Strangers all around. Em shied away and was surprised by clinks and clicks. She diverted her precious attention from the unknown dragons to the unknown devices on her. The little dragon tensed, braced for the pain, as she opened her wing to inspect the contraption. None came. The device whirred as she moved, aiding her achey muscles. With wide eyes she extended then retracted her wings.
Now the strangers were smiling. One said, "Do you like it, little one?"
She smiled back, as was in her nature, and nodded.
Field unit training wasn't difficult for Em. The teamwork exercises were where she really excelled; she thrived with having a partner.
As she learned about FL/GHT, she also learned about their enemies. Dragons with few qualms about delicate moral issues. Dragons who put science above person-hood. These were terrible dragons, or so they told her.
With time she began to form her own opinions. Broken enhancements, frustration at her own weak flesh: these things coloured her perspective. She felt defective, and she hated it. Those shining metal aids were beautiful. Once the kinks were worked out, they were infinitely more reliable than herself. She pushed for more, sent in requests to all the right dragons. The urge to replace everything broken in herself could not easily be quieted.
But they refused.
She was left half perfected.
She wasn't quiet about her views. How she saw herself, and other cyborgs, was no secret. Over time she crept dangerously close to views that were not tolerated in FL/GHT.
Some called her a Project sympathizer. That was a dangerous label. She wasn't safe with those who would condemn her valid point of view.
She left them before they could leave her. With all her tech she fled.
Being a rogue was a lonely life. She went from place to place with no real home. Her only aim for a long while was to get away from headquarters.
This led her to a remote clan in the everbloom gardens.
At first it seemed a paradise. Dragons living rustically but not judging her technological parts.
Then she saw Him. Firebrand. Intelligence division of FL/GHT. Here on an information gathering, long term mission.
If she were to stay, he'd have to go. One report would mean the end for her. She knew how his people felt about dragons like her. To say nothing of runaways! Yes, they could not know of her.
She shadowed him for days. Watched his movements. Bid her time.
Unexpectedly, she began to appreciate him. He was closer to perfection than she was: most of him had been replaced in a life saving procedure. Mirroring his movements, his manners, his routine, it was... soothing. She hasn't had a partner- strictly in an operative sense- in a very long time.
He was certainly intelligent. He fulfilled his role well. Most interestingly, he seemed to be archiving his intelligence. The reports were not being sent directly to FL/GHT. Rather, they were stored in secure files that were set to send upon either his command or his death.
This she could work with.
Even better, he did not know her tells; lying would be a breeze. She just needed to feed him enough to make him content, not overwork any matter. A fitting challenge, outfoxing the intelligence officer.
Strangers all around. Em shied away and was surprised by clinks and clicks. She diverted her precious attention from the unknown dragons to the unknown devices on her. The little dragon tensed, braced for the pain, as she opened her wing to inspect the contraption. None came. The device whirred as she moved, aiding her achey muscles. With wide eyes she extended then retracted her wings.
Now the strangers were smiling. One said, "Do you like it, little one?"
She smiled back, as was in her nature, and nodded.
Field unit training wasn't difficult for Em. The teamwork exercises were where she really excelled; she thrived with having a partner.
As she learned about FL/GHT, she also learned about their enemies. Dragons with few qualms about delicate moral issues. Dragons who put science above person-hood. These were terrible dragons, or so they told her.
With time she began to form her own opinions. Broken enhancements, frustration at her own weak flesh: these things coloured her perspective. She felt defective, and she hated it. Those shining metal aids were beautiful. Once the kinks were worked out, they were infinitely more reliable than herself. She pushed for more, sent in requests to all the right dragons. The urge to replace everything broken in herself could not easily be quieted.
But they refused.
She was left half perfected.
She wasn't quiet about her views. How she saw herself, and other cyborgs, was no secret. Over time she crept dangerously close to views that were not tolerated in FL/GHT.
Some called her a Project sympathizer. That was a dangerous label. She wasn't safe with those who would condemn her valid point of view.
She left them before they could leave her. With all her tech she fled.
Being a rogue was a lonely life. She went from place to place with no real home. Her only aim for a long while was to get away from headquarters.
This led her to a remote clan in the everbloom gardens.
At first it seemed a paradise. Dragons living rustically but not judging her technological parts.
Then she saw Him. Firebrand. Intelligence division of FL/GHT. Here on an information gathering, long term mission.
If she were to stay, he'd have to go. One report would mean the end for her. She knew how his people felt about dragons like her. To say nothing of runaways! Yes, they could not know of her.
She shadowed him for days. Watched his movements. Bid her time.
Unexpectedly, she began to appreciate him. He was closer to perfection than she was: most of him had been replaced in a life saving procedure. Mirroring his movements, his manners, his routine, it was... soothing. She hasn't had a partner- strictly in an operative sense- in a very long time.
He was certainly intelligent. He fulfilled his role well. Most interestingly, he seemed to be archiving his intelligence. The reports were not being sent directly to FL/GHT. Rather, they were stored in secure files that were set to send upon either his command or his death.
This she could work with.
Even better, he did not know her tells; lying would be a breeze. She just needed to feed him enough to make him content, not overwork any matter. A fitting challenge, outfoxing the intelligence officer.
Empire
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