Monarch
(#52308741)
'I've never seen a wild thing sorry for itself.' { she,her }
Familiar
Rosa Cerdae
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Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Gaoler
This dragon is an ancient breed.
This dragon is under the permanent effect of a Silhouette Scroll. A toggle on the dragon's profile allows swapping between the artwork poses available for the breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
11.24 m
Wingspan
6.67 m
Weight
7417.55 kg
Genetics
Ivory
Phantom (Gaoler)
Phantom (Gaoler)
Ivory
Peregrine (Gaoler)
Peregrine (Gaoler)
Iris
Thundercrack (Gaoler)
Thundercrack (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Gaoler
EXP: 20 / 27676
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Lineage
Biography
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˙M O N A R C H˙
Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess of Niveus de Silva, Godbledden, Prosperous Child of the Lions  >Theme< - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "The one thing about royalty is that we like to feast." She felt sick about how she liked roses. Monarch couldn't explain why. It is an ugly flower and yet she still preferred them over all the rest... even carnations. Something about the disrupting wrinkle of their petals, or the horrible spines that protruded from the stems, or the rare sickly sweet scent they would emit... But when you really start to think about it, the more one realizes how grotesque of a flower it is. It attracted horrible insects. Grew like a weed, uncontrollable and selfish, the type of temper that disgusted her the most. She wrinkles her nose, reaches out with delicate fingertips for a thorn-covered blue stem. Her mind is elsewhere, searching itself for the reason as to why she was obsessed with such a disgusting plant. The stem is firm like a branch, slick with a finished veneer, but with her tight grip and a quick snap, it yields easily to her. The Crown Princess brings the red flower to her face to admire its morbid beauty. The luscious, vibrant coloring reminded her of a beating heart, one flushed with life... And it smelled of her father. A frown creases her lips. Vaguely, in the very corner of her mind, she can recall her brother screaming something painful— 'Your highness...' the shadow within her hisses softly through her head, breaking apart her clouding thoughts. '...someone is coming...' Monarch steels herself, straightening her posture and feigning a placid expression of disinterest for the figure currently rounding the corner of the rose garden. "Your Highness." Eleor roughly grunts in greeting when he stops to bow before the Crown Princess, maintaining a respectable distance. The Princess understands that this beast's next words are to be heeded, for who sends a general to be one's messenger? As expected, when She turns to gauge his expression, it is flat and unreadable... But his scarlet eyes reek with adamant fury. Always and forever. "His Majesty the Crown, your father, is requesting an audience with you within the palace practice hall." His stress on the words 'your farther' confirmed for Monarch that this proposition was serious and is not to be refused. She hesitates for a moment, struggling to piece together Her father's motives—ultimately, such thought was only done in vain, for how could She ever begin to understand? "Very well." She despondently murmurs, holding out the rose in Her hand towards the Berserker. "Take this, then, and give it to someone you care about, Eleor." Her words are serious too, but softly, in a gentle restricting sense... Like that of a snake curling around something breathing, something alive... His expression shifts as the berserker takes the offering from her silently. In just a glance, Monarch catches a sliver of dread. She smiles then to alleviate his concerns. "Lead the way, General." Her voice is just as delicate as Her current appearance. The brutal warrior nods before stiffly marching ahead, the Crown Princess silently following in tandem.
• N O T E S •
• C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S •
Monarch, the eldest sibling and thus the first to succeed the throne, is quite eager to prove her worth. Her demure manner is all but a clever guise, for her words are oft shrewd, her judgement ruthlessly calculative, and her true nature conniving-ly cunning. It is no surprise as to why her brother is wary of her... However, her father can digress, and is quite eager for her to inherit her birthright.
• F A M I L I A R ( S ) •
• M A G I C •
She's not fighting with one blade—she's fighting with a dozen golden rapiers, overwhelming her opponent and slaying them with chilling ease—there is no emotion upon her face and her eyes are flat with cold concentration. When arrows start raining down, the Crown Princess dips herself in her gold, becoming invulnerable to the sharp tips of steel. She stands upon the battlefield—then she is right behind the archers. They too are swept up in blades and the blood begins to flow. Her shadow laughs then, encouraging more, and it is so easy to indulge...
• R E L A T I O N S •
code by archaic #19153 {modified by kinged}
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amazing surprise art from my bestie sleepy ;a; <3
amazing sig art by sleepy oh my ;A; <3
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Exalting Monarch 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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