Vector
(#58142964)
Oh, don't forgive me.
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Ridgeback
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
13.73 m
Wingspan
12.6 m
Weight
6864.25 kg
Genetics
Caramel
Python
Python
Dirt
Toxin
Toxin
Eggplant
Firebreather
Firebreather
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Ridgeback
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
Homage to the tropes I love: Apocalypse/Zombies/Necromancer/The Atoner
Also a spinoff character to my dragons Dorothy and Nash's lore.
Also a spinoff character to my dragons Dorothy and Nash's lore.
Adult
So, this was it.
This just had to be it.
Vector can rest at last.
It was silly, really, that everything all led up to him inside a glass cage that seemed indestructible. Even worse, he chose to turn himself to to the last dragons alive. He could have walked away as the world fell into pieces. After all, the ongoing apocalypse would have spared him. It didn't even consider hurting him once, even. Vector was safe.
He was only safe because he brought the end to the world in the first place.
He had the power to create the undead and even control them. He was also spared by their wrath and unreasonable fury.
The swarms of Emperors and other undead dragons? All his. The seas that churned with biting undead fish? Him, too. The skies where only Death Seekers flew in since the apocalypse? That was him.
As the world screamed and the monsters roared, Vector idly walked and thought about it all. It was much easier to think when there were less dragons in the world. The neighborhoods were empty, the skies were not screeching of annoying chatter...
The undead wouldn't bother him, either. If he happened to walk by, they looked at him quizzically before shambling on again.
What did he think about?
A lot of things, really. In the beginning, he wished the world were a better place. He wished he could be alone and everyone who had bothered him would disappear. He thought that the world and his curse truly did not mix... everyone was afraid of him, thought he was bad luck and all. Vector had never felt this much hurt and resentment before.
And as the voices dwindled, he realized something more hurtful: There was no one who stood by his cursed life before, and now there was absolutely no one to support him now.
That's why he turned himself in, because he just felt terrible. Maybe it was wrong to wish in a fit of anger.
"Give me your worst sentence," he told the dragoness before his glass cage. "That worst sentence being to send me back outside and to be lonely again. I'm sorry, it's the right thing to do. I deserve it."
"No one's going to do anything to you. Not while I'm here," the Nocturne said.
She wasn't lying. Vector saw how even the Emperors and the other monsters wouldn't attack her, even when she kept screaming and flailing. They looked at her just as quizzically -- and she gave the same confused glances back -- and let her move past them. When Vector revealed himself to her, he thought he saw black shadows flickering behind her. The most notable shadow was one of a large Gaoler, watching her protectively.
It was as if she shared the same curse too. Or, he wondered, maybe the difference was that she possibly had ghosts following her instead of the undead.
"Who are you?" Vector asked. The Nocturne seemed like a high school teenager fresh out of graduation. "Are you... are you like me?"
"Yes and no," the Nocturne tilted her head. "I'm Dorothy, the queen of the anomalies."
This just had to be it.
Vector can rest at last.
It was silly, really, that everything all led up to him inside a glass cage that seemed indestructible. Even worse, he chose to turn himself to to the last dragons alive. He could have walked away as the world fell into pieces. After all, the ongoing apocalypse would have spared him. It didn't even consider hurting him once, even. Vector was safe.
He was only safe because he brought the end to the world in the first place.
He had the power to create the undead and even control them. He was also spared by their wrath and unreasonable fury.
The swarms of Emperors and other undead dragons? All his. The seas that churned with biting undead fish? Him, too. The skies where only Death Seekers flew in since the apocalypse? That was him.
As the world screamed and the monsters roared, Vector idly walked and thought about it all. It was much easier to think when there were less dragons in the world. The neighborhoods were empty, the skies were not screeching of annoying chatter...
The undead wouldn't bother him, either. If he happened to walk by, they looked at him quizzically before shambling on again.
What did he think about?
A lot of things, really. In the beginning, he wished the world were a better place. He wished he could be alone and everyone who had bothered him would disappear. He thought that the world and his curse truly did not mix... everyone was afraid of him, thought he was bad luck and all. Vector had never felt this much hurt and resentment before.
And as the voices dwindled, he realized something more hurtful: There was no one who stood by his cursed life before, and now there was absolutely no one to support him now.
That's why he turned himself in, because he just felt terrible. Maybe it was wrong to wish in a fit of anger.
"Give me your worst sentence," he told the dragoness before his glass cage. "That worst sentence being to send me back outside and to be lonely again. I'm sorry, it's the right thing to do. I deserve it."
"No one's going to do anything to you. Not while I'm here," the Nocturne said.
She wasn't lying. Vector saw how even the Emperors and the other monsters wouldn't attack her, even when she kept screaming and flailing. They looked at her just as quizzically -- and she gave the same confused glances back -- and let her move past them. When Vector revealed himself to her, he thought he saw black shadows flickering behind her. The most notable shadow was one of a large Gaoler, watching her protectively.
It was as if she shared the same curse too. Or, he wondered, maybe the difference was that she possibly had ghosts following her instead of the undead.
"Who are you?" Vector asked. The Nocturne seemed like a high school teenager fresh out of graduation. "Are you... are you like me?"
"Yes and no," the Nocturne tilted her head. "I'm Dorothy, the queen of the anomalies."
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Vector 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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