Saskia » Lair » Cristofana

Cristofana

(#61971948)

Level 10 Imperial

Familiar

Mind Devourer

Energy: 49 50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

20.87 m

Wingspan

16.97 m

Weight

8063.66 kg

Genetics

Abyss
Starmap

Denim
Constellation

Lemon
Veined

Hatchday

Jun 12, 2020
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Water
Unusual

Level 10 Imperial

EXP: 1946 / 27676

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

By Alew

This incredible, energetic work of art was a wonderful surprise gift from JingleTingle of one of my most enigmatic dragons! Thank you so much!

JingleTingle created this amazing follow up to Cristofana that needs to be seen and loved by everyone! Thank you for this lovely and unexpected gift!

CRISTOFANA

Role Goes Here

B I O G R A P H Y

When she was young she had a fairly normal toddler/young childhood. As she often thinks back to it with fondness, having grown in a small community where there were no true singular families as everyone cared for everyone. Thus she had many loving guardian figures, though no parents. However one day she was feeling a childish naivity to go pick some of the honeysuckle from another dragon's garden. As they are rather sweet treat and she thought it would be harmless. Nothing strange for a young kid who still was new to good and bad, it was almost a joke in the community after all that everyone has gotten in trouble from either taking some of the honeysuckle or gooseberries.

However instead of getting away with a small treat, she pricked herself on a small spiked supposed weed that had intertwined itself with the flower. Instead of a small bead of red blood that should of followed, instead a loose trickle of cyan flowed down. Still being young and dependent, she immediately ran back to her community home where the children stayed and showed the matron in worry. After all she had bled before from little nicks or splinters. But never had she bled this bright blue blood, however instead of the usual knowledgeable scolding from the matron about being careful. Came nothing at first, just a horrified look came at the apperence of the blue blood. Then it morphed in a blank state as the matron pulled Fania (her name before she got labeled as a monster) to the leaders of this small community. Each look towards the blood, a omen of a child of sin, with varying levels of disgust and cruel pity. Fania was terrified at this point, never as these leaders, elders of this community looked apon anyone with such disdain. And soon, to free this community of their so called sin. A event was held, one held so long ago that many of the grown dragons of this community nay hears of it. But the elders had, forcing Fania, who is simply a scared hatchling infected with a blood parasite called "Radio Fever" (A made-up disease, it's caught by getting pricked and injected with the dye of the Blue Devil, the weed from before. However the blood color change only happens when one is allergic, so it's rare and often misunderstood.) towards the edge of a ravine.

Not a single dragon tried to stop the elders, not that they didn't want to. Going against the leaders is a sure fired way to get exiled into plague territory, a death sentence. However it didn't matter to Fania, who saw even friends, siblings, and guardians she was close to watch her get pushed closer and closer to her death. Her wings tied with sharp twine and stones to keep them pinned. She cried out for help, but she could only feel betrayal as they turned the other cheek.

When she fell, she did indeed die. Not that it was in a instant, she laid there slowly bleeding out. The gravel filled with sharp stones pierced her still fairly soft scales, letting her soon be surrounded in her own cursed blue blood, that slowly darkened into a grey navy color. Her vocal cords were crushed along with her throat and chest, leaving her filled with suffering in what seemed to be her final moments.

Luckily though, if one could call this curse lucky. A higher being took pity on the misfortuned hatchling. Giving them a chance to live again, without the fear of death. However, it was not without its price. For she would become the shell for ichor, the golden liquid of the gods. Said to bring true immortality to those who know how to prepare it. Of course, being young scared and in pain. She accepted, something many years down the line she regrets.

The dark blood became her new scales, dying them a graying deep navy and her man and wings a dark pale mockery of the once bright white they had been. (When she was a hatchling, I imagine she was a bright white hatchling. Before becoming her grey self after this revival) She spent many months trapped in that ravine, being stuck and weak. However never dying, she would soon come to find out she couldn't die. But the pain of it lingering was ever present when she should of.

When she finally crawled out of that ravine, her wings now permanently crooked and dented from the twine. The community was gone, having moved by the leaders demand to leave the hell site of the monster. They left nothing but a ghost town, leaving only the shell of buildings and overgrown gardens. Cristofana, her new name after becoming... whatever she was now. Stayed at this shell of a home for many more months, boarding years. Often this young broken hatchling would spend her days wailing next to the honeysuckle garden. Baring the harsh summer heat and the cold winter breeze all alone. She was too young and malnourished to rebuild or make anything that could resemble a shelter. So her soft scales soon turned hard and stone like, with small white cracks of her former glory resembling stars.

Soon she was found by a wandering group of travelers, who after gaining her trust through many weeks of food and conversations from a distance. They took her with them to travel the lands, first to find her a new community home or family. But it wasn't long before she was a permanent part of this merry band. They cared not that she was always cold as ice, or that her blood was a unnatural gold. They were all strange after all.

B I O G R A P H Y

But time waits for no one, and as she grew slowly. It seemed time all but flew past her group, her family. By the time she was old enough to barely glide, the older members were basically elders, the oldest member. A old fae with a remarkable sense of humor had passed, she always did hold a soft spot for the species after that. By the time she could hover in the air with some help, she was leading the next generation. But soon even they died out with none left behind, the last fittingly was a rebel of a Fae. Who died young after a harsh battle with nobility.

Cristofana never did fully recover from loosing so many in what was such a short time for her. So many she blamed herself for, a monster battle here, a cave collapse there. All of the preventable deaths weighed heavy on her. Eternity raises no saints, and with their deaths came her reputation. The death of the last by the mockery of nobility filled her with rage like no other. So she struck them all down, community after community, lair after lair. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even if the last marks on the land her traveling band ever made faded away long ago, she still bares her teeth towards authority. How could she not? Authority killed her friends, her family, it even killed her so long ago.

Even as the rage left, when it faded away leaving nothing but the smoldering ashes of a hatchling angry at the world taking everything from her. She still remained unruly, she held people far, and those who wish for control farther still. But if she would push what rations she had (though didn't need) towards the young or old, that was only for her to know.

To this day, she settles on the edge of a lair she couldn't help but admire the wildness of. How everyone has a story, everyone comes with a tale or two. She had been found and invited after she got caught eavesdropping on a story or five. Searching for that emotion that came from those with a limited amount of time in their own tale. She took it after days of deliberation, even if it only felt like seconds to her. Her home may be on the edge of the lair, but she could be seen slinking in the shadows more often then not. She may be large, having never truly stopped growing, however slow. But she was deceptively sneaky in the dark. And a truly terrifying beast when she would rise to two feet to intimidate, her long antlers and deep scales and fur patterned with the white cracks like stars only serving to bring her to a truly terrifying height. A wirly grin almost always plaster on her face with long fangs that stretched from ear to ear would off put most. Not that many in this lair seemed to even notice, those who did rarely cared or found it more fascinating then unnerving. And well, if that gave some fondness to Cristofana, well, that was only for her to know. She could never grow as attached to others has she once did, but she could get close. To the point it frightened her, it scared her with a fear she rarely could feel that she may fall into another rage when another is lost.

Monsters brought by the fear of the unknown birthed a new beast with a cursed blessing, taken by the path of hate and war. Eternity raises no saints, and hope for this beast is lost and regained cruely each day

Amazing lore by JingleTingle. They accept commissions for art and for writing, so please contact them. JingleTingle is very approachable and wonderful to work with; you'll be very happy! :)

Bio template by @Mibella, find it here.

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