Neurotoxin

Neurotoxin

Among his fellow coatls, Neurotoxin was hated. He had committed the cardinal sin of being born ugly. His feathers were white, lacking in bright plumage and beauty. He came from a long line of white coatls, he was born already ostracised from those of his own kind. He was a stranger amongst his people, unable to understand their fascination with colours. His parents had often taking to wearing brightly coloured apparel, but Neurotoxin saw no point in hiding who he was. He resented the falsity of his parents, desperately trying to fit in among dragons who would never accept him. He resolved from a young age not to let their words bother him, to never have such weakness. He may not have been as bright and colourful as the others, but he was proud of his pale white feathers. They were a part of him, as much as anything else was, and he would not try and hide himself. But that just made them shun him more. He realised that there was nothing for him there, among his original lair. They would never understand him, never see him as more than a bad omen, a failure of a dragon who would have been better off never hatching at all.

Neurotoxin turned, eventually, to science, choosing a new name for himself to reflect his new passion. He did not have to worry about his appearance, or people judging him for his lack of colour when he was experimenting, lost in his studies. His lair is less of a collection of treasure and gems and more of a makeshift lab. Filled with vials of venom, concoctions of toxins, broken glass, notes upon notes of studies. Piles of rotting fungi and the corpses strange animals native to Sornieth, sharp scalpels left cluttered on the floor. His lair is a hazardous place to tread, one wrong step and you might have accidentally poisoned yourself. Neurotoxin has dedicated his life to creating an experimenting with new plagues and diseases, studying the Wandering Contagion and furthering its spread. Living among the rot and ruin, creating new weapons and venoms, he finally found his place. It might not have perhaps been the most moral thing to do, but he was serving his goddess and for once in his life he felt like he belonged.

And oh, it was so satisfying when he created a poison that leeched the colour from Coatl feathers. When he watched those that taunted him become just like him.

Blank.