Hadrian
(#60575989)
He's gone... I can't believe he's really gone...
Styx
Fluorite Windsinger
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
30.69 m
Wingspan
21.49 m
Weight
8698.58 kg
Genetics
Phthalo
Wasp
Wasp
Teal
Bee
Bee
Cerulean
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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Αδριάνος | HADRIAN
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First were the tears, then the temples. The statues in his honor; the architects; the celebrations. For an untimely death, I would put time and life aside in favor of redemption. The drowning. The obelisk. The marble likenesses. The god. | __ |
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"Of all our games, love's play is the only one which threatens to unsettle our soul, and is also the only one in which the player has to abandon himself to the body's ecstasy… Nailed to the beloved body like a slave to a cross, I have learned some secrets of life which are now dimmed in my memory by the operation of that same law which ordained that the convalescent, once cured, ceases to understand the mysterious truths laid bare by illness, and that the prisoner, set free, forgets his torture, or the conqueror, his triumph passed, forgets his glory."
Yourcenar. Memoirs of Hadrian. English Edition. 2005. p. 12-14.
"My hunger for power was like the craving for love, which keeps the lover from eating or sleeping, from thinking or even from loving as long as certain rites remain unperformed. The most urgent tasks seemed vain when I was not the free master over decisions affecting the future; I needed to be assured of reigning in order to recapture the desire to serve."
Yourcenar. Memoirs of Hadrian. English Edition. 2005. p. 86.
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νυχτερινά πουλιά | NIGHT BIRDS
Nocturnal, we roost, Two birds perched on a bed frame Cooing to one another as the sun rises, Without a care for what may happen Between now and when the sun goes down again. Patience is a virtue we can’t afford. We pull stars out of the sky Of our own selfish volition, Without a care for what god we anger, So that the night can be ours When the black sky turns blue. But captive fireballs pale in comparison To when the moon rises And the night birds take flight again, Without a care for what watchful eyes May be hiding within the seams of the quilted sky. | __ |
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αλκυών | HALCYON It was so simple back then After each long day, I knew I had you to come home to. I knew I had one friend I could count on while others drifted away. Where you would go, I would follow… Until I noticed when I left, you were never at my heels like I was at yours. I felt a fire on my tongue when I spoke your name. Like a ghost, I feel your presence around me when I’m alone. I close my eyes and see your face. I cover my ears and still hear your name. But now that I understand... It hurts to know you never felt the same. |
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δείτε κόκκινο | RED VISION Red vision. It washes over me so hot that it feels cold. The chills, for once, are not self-inflicted. Ignorance blinds you to your power Left alone without a leash or muzzle. You mad dog, how can you let it run rampant? Your razored words cut my skin Like a hot knife through butter, Spilling some things I'll miss, and some I can't forget No matter how many veins are split. Stop looking at me. I know my face is bleeding. The plasma is thick and hot. "Who did this to you?" Who do you think thick-skull? A blank mind is a blessing in disguise. There is nothing more sinister than a busy brain; Neurons fire like the hurried flames Bursting from my matchstick fingertips. I don't burn, why would I? I'm human, not paper. I hold him in these hands because marble is a rock And my anchor won't hold in such unreliable sand. You cannot force me to set sail. Pull and knot your ropes, Drop or raise the jib, Turn the bough where you might— This horse will not drink. Hey, hey. Simmer down, stallion. His words escape tightly pursed lips. He is sculpted, the angles of his figure precise and strong. His face tilts downward meekly. He is masculine and tender at the same time. The image of perfection. The image of death. My God, his image! Perfection is fleeting, and Immortality comes at a steep price. He died—drowned— At nineteen. Such an unfair robbery, But he most of all is worthy of gifted divinity. His likeness survives two thousand years To end up in my grasp, Calming the spirit and gentling the soul. Red hot blood simmers down; Clenched fists soften at his request. The sky storms present day, But the waters were calm then, Blue waves lolling listlessly Before the body pierced the surface of stained glass. Passion fades and makes way for a hollowness in my heart, The fourth chamber of which he fills: The atrium to my ventricles. Red vision turns blue As the oxygen escapes his throat And flesh sinks into river silt. 
νέος θεός | YOUNG GOD We are all sheep to our shepherds, All followers to the ones we stand behind History is a book that writes itself, But cannot do so without hands and ink. I opened my eyes, First a flower, Fascinated with his petals, Second a spider, Caught in his web, And third a star, Immortalized in the heavens. On earth, his stem is an obelisk, An ancient flower with roots woven through Roman households; With modern petals on office desks A nile-bank lotus drinking up his history. At two-thousand years, He is still a young god, Skin still supple and mind still growing, The matrix of neurons weaving For the navy-kneed tarantula. His likeness surrounds me, pieces of him tucked in every corner of my home, The mantle a beacon of his essence. I have come to I understand the thing which he represents, that I did not understand as a flower I look up at the sky and see his web forming constellations, and at the center of it all is his face, his star. Antinous, the seventh star of Aquila, gleams in a sea of spilled salt. |
    
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