Bookman
(#55329486)
one for the angels!
Familiar
Crimson Reef Snail
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Bogsneak
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.58 m
Wingspan
8.51 m
Weight
487.97 kg
Genetics
White
Skink
Skink
White
Trail
Trail
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Bogsneak
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
7
INT
6
VIT
7
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
Welcome To The Twilight Zone, Stranger.
Lou Bookman
Possessing a peculiar fashion sense and an eccentricity matched by nearly no one, Lou Bookman has always been a good friend with the younger dragons in his town. Whether it came to fixing toys, playing catch, or lending a coin for a dragonet to buy a candy bar, Lou has got everything covered. However, life does not last forever. Approached by a peculiar and supernatural dragon that would simply call himself “Death”, Lou was reminded of this fact. Death was surprisingly a kind and charming dragon, but that did not mitigate the fear associated with mortality, especially when he was the only one who could see this strange dragon. No one else acknowledged his presence.
Bookman knew his time would soon be up, but he didn’t want that to be the truth; so, the dragon struck a deal with Mr. Death.
“I've never made a truly successful pitch. I mean... I mean a big pitch. I mean a pitch so big the sky will open up.” Lou paused, his eyes growing intense. “A pitch for the angels.”
Lou, of course, never planned to make this pitch. He’d figured he’d conned Death right out of a life. Death, however, is not so naïve.
“Mr. Bookman, I have a very odd feeling that you’re taking advantage of us.”
Once again, Bookman was reminded that mortality is not something to be toyed with. After all, if one does not die, another must. The balance must be maintained.
“You say I won't go until I make the pitch -- well all right! You'll have to wait till I make the pitch! And young man... this I can say to you without fear of contradiction -- you have got a long wait!”
“That may well be, Mr. Bookman. But since
you won't come with me -- we have been forced to select an alternative!”
Soon after Lou and Death had their conversation, a kind and gentle dragonet by the name of Maggie fell ill. Her prognosis was mere
days. Lou, of course, went to visit her, distraught at the sudden occurrence.
“Hi Lou!”
“You’re gonna be all right, Maggie, darlin’. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“Lou? Lou, who's that man?”
This is when the realization struck. An idea worse than his own death. The loss of an innocent dragon with her whole life ahead of her.
“You can't take her. No siree -- you can't take her! I'll go. I'll go as planned.”
The next night, Death waits outside Maggie’s home, waiting for midnight. After all, that is the young dragon’s time to pass on.
Lou would not have it. He would do all in his power to keep Maggie alive. Even if it cost his own life. This was it. His pitch for the angels.
“Witness, if you will, a demonstration of
tensile strength. Feel this, if you will, sir.”
For fifteen minutes, Mr. Death was kept preoccupied by an old eccentric dragon who just wished to sell his wares. In fact, by the time Lou had finished his pitch, midnight had passed. A tired looking doctor and Maggie’s worried mother exited the den. “Just give her the sedatives every three hours, Mrs. Polansky. All she needs now is rest. But she's going to be all right!”
Lou’s face lit up. He had done it, he’d saved Maggie.
“A most persuasive pitch, Mr. Bookman. An
excellent pitch. It had to be to... to make me miss my appointment.”
“That's the kind of pitch I've always wanted to make. A big one. A pitch so big... so big the sky would open up.”
“A pitch for the angels.”
“That's right. A pitch for the angels.”
. . .
“I guess it’s time for me to go now.”
“As per our agreement.”
“Well, I’m ready.”
“After you, Mr. Bookman.
Lou Bookman awoke with a strange headache, opening his eyes to see two unsettling dragons keenly observing him. "Oh," he mumbled with a sigh of relief. "What a dream."
"Do tell us what you experienced, Mr. Bookman."
Lou sat up, rubbing his temples, trying to recall all that happened. "Well... I had to make a pitch..."
"One for the angels," says a familiar voice from behind him.
Lou Bookman
Possessing a peculiar fashion sense and an eccentricity matched by nearly no one, Lou Bookman has always been a good friend with the younger dragons in his town. Whether it came to fixing toys, playing catch, or lending a coin for a dragonet to buy a candy bar, Lou has got everything covered. However, life does not last forever. Approached by a peculiar and supernatural dragon that would simply call himself “Death”, Lou was reminded of this fact. Death was surprisingly a kind and charming dragon, but that did not mitigate the fear associated with mortality, especially when he was the only one who could see this strange dragon. No one else acknowledged his presence.
Bookman knew his time would soon be up, but he didn’t want that to be the truth; so, the dragon struck a deal with Mr. Death.
“I've never made a truly successful pitch. I mean... I mean a big pitch. I mean a pitch so big the sky will open up.” Lou paused, his eyes growing intense. “A pitch for the angels.”
Lou, of course, never planned to make this pitch. He’d figured he’d conned Death right out of a life. Death, however, is not so naïve.
“Mr. Bookman, I have a very odd feeling that you’re taking advantage of us.”
Once again, Bookman was reminded that mortality is not something to be toyed with. After all, if one does not die, another must. The balance must be maintained.
“You say I won't go until I make the pitch -- well all right! You'll have to wait till I make the pitch! And young man... this I can say to you without fear of contradiction -- you have got a long wait!”
“That may well be, Mr. Bookman. But since
you won't come with me -- we have been forced to select an alternative!”
Soon after Lou and Death had their conversation, a kind and gentle dragonet by the name of Maggie fell ill. Her prognosis was mere
days. Lou, of course, went to visit her, distraught at the sudden occurrence.
“Hi Lou!”
“You’re gonna be all right, Maggie, darlin’. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“Lou? Lou, who's that man?”
This is when the realization struck. An idea worse than his own death. The loss of an innocent dragon with her whole life ahead of her.
“You can't take her. No siree -- you can't take her! I'll go. I'll go as planned.”
The next night, Death waits outside Maggie’s home, waiting for midnight. After all, that is the young dragon’s time to pass on.
Lou would not have it. He would do all in his power to keep Maggie alive. Even if it cost his own life. This was it. His pitch for the angels.
“Witness, if you will, a demonstration of
tensile strength. Feel this, if you will, sir.”
For fifteen minutes, Mr. Death was kept preoccupied by an old eccentric dragon who just wished to sell his wares. In fact, by the time Lou had finished his pitch, midnight had passed. A tired looking doctor and Maggie’s worried mother exited the den. “Just give her the sedatives every three hours, Mrs. Polansky. All she needs now is rest. But she's going to be all right!”
Lou’s face lit up. He had done it, he’d saved Maggie.
“A most persuasive pitch, Mr. Bookman. An
excellent pitch. It had to be to... to make me miss my appointment.”
“That's the kind of pitch I've always wanted to make. A big one. A pitch so big... so big the sky would open up.”
“A pitch for the angels.”
“That's right. A pitch for the angels.”
. . .
“I guess it’s time for me to go now.”
“As per our agreement.”
“Well, I’m ready.”
“After you, Mr. Bookman.
Lou Bookman awoke with a strange headache, opening his eyes to see two unsettling dragons keenly observing him. "Oh," he mumbled with a sigh of relief. "What a dream."
"Do tell us what you experienced, Mr. Bookman."
Lou sat up, rubbing his temples, trying to recall all that happened. "Well... I had to make a pitch..."
"One for the angels," says a familiar voice from behind him.
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Exalting Bookman to the service of the Lightweaver 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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