Johannes
(#66325942)
He/Him || And what's too much to bury?
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Mirror
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.51 m
Wingspan
7.07 m
Weight
446.16 kg
Genetics
Shale
Jaguar
Jaguar
Murk
Hypnotic
Hypnotic
Tarnish
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Mirror
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
J O H A N N E S
PLAGUE // HE/HIM // MIRROR
PLAGUE // HE/HIM // MIRROR
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OOO
OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO OOO      Johannes Bandit // Knight Commander 48   Cis Man // Gay 
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OOOJohannes wears his title as a badge of honor.
OOOIt's half out of pride, and half preservation. He may be survivor, thief, fighter, informant, and above all Knight Commander, but at the end of the day, he still thinks himself hardly more than the exact same dragon that he's always been. OOOSkinny hatchlings that get picked on, day in, day out, can grow into skinny men with strange ideas about their place in the world, and Johannes was no exception. He was one of the many lost youth of Lantern's Light, told from the day he could understand it that his parents had been killed by bandits- in fact, by the very same bandits who then claimed the boy for their own numbers. The care the gang gave him was hardly more than providing the bare essentials, but the hatchlings which grew beside him ensured that even that much would often be taken from him. As well as he would come to learn the desolate streets and flushed sewers of Lantern's Light, Johannes would also learn that the world was simply out to get him, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Fighting to keep his supper soon became negotiating the least appetizing scraps he could keep, finding his space ransacked soon became maintaining as few possessions as possible, and being forced to do others' chores soon became volunteering for loathsome jobs with smaller workloads. OOOBy the time Johannes reached young adulthood, he found that dragons he'd obeyed his entire life didn't even know his name. Steely gazes looked through him like they would the stale fog, though the lack of honor amongst thieves didn't spare his ghastly existence as he still found his meager bounties stolen from beneath his nose. His dejectedness was beginning to give way to resentment, but for years he found he could only bring himself to stew in it. After all, the world had made its stance very clear; satisfaction was no option for him, regardless of what he did. OOOIt was his subtlety, however, that those years later would make dragons bold enough to discuss their dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs in front of him. What was the point, they cried, of relenting to the whims of a gang if it only meant that the thieves would cannibalize others' claims? Why should anyone swear loyalty to someone who would exploit them on a whim? What made them any better, any safer than lone crooks? Laughable, that's what Johannes found it, laughable. A lifetime of mistreatment, of abject silence from his peers in response, and yet they had the gall to complain when it happened to them. And so, he stood idly by as the murmurs grew into an uproar, adapting only as necessary to the volatile unrest as he had every other miserable development in his life. He found that seasoned criminals and upcoming bandits alike who'd so long turned their noses up at him were either falling as bloodied heaps or fleeing as petulant cowards, while he managed to escape... largely unnoticed. He was still looked past. Still stolen from. Somehow- despite everything, despite himself- still alive. OOOFew dragons recognize a miracle when it happens to them. OOOWhen Johannes was ripped from slumber one night, felt his shoulder crushed in the vice grip of a far more powerful claw, felt his throat quiver against the already blood-slick edge of a blade, and was told that his options were either to join or die, the voice in his head which told him to stay alive must have been the Plaguebringer herself. He joined then, not knowing what it meant, not caring what it meant, but knowing that he would manage to survive, as he had for a lifetime before. When they stuck him in armor too large for his frame, he didn't complain. When they forced new weapons into his grip, he feigned experience. When they told him to fight, he let his mind leave his body. When they asked him who was betraying the cause, he gave names. When they told him to swear undying fealty to the new kings of what lie Underfoot, he bowed and screamed their praises. When they gave him a new home after the fighting was through, he didn't question why. When they called him to request voluntary service, he rapidly obliged. OOOAnd when they requested his council, inviting him to stand before his kings in the midst of the new, unified coalition of bandits they'd created, and asked him with smiles and soft reverence if he would be willing to accept the title of Knight Commander; then, and only then, did Johannes freeze, and ask to understand why they would ask such a thing of him. OOOHis service, they said, was unparalleled. His fervent devotion to the cause and loyalty to the current kingdom could not go unrewarded- they needed a good, strong, hardworking dragon like him to command and educate the rest of the kings' guard. To that point, in fact, there wasn't even any other dragon they found themselves considering for the role. Still, Johannes could only insist that it couldn't be right- none of it could be right. He had always been Johannes, bottom of the food chain, last to finish, first to suffer. The world hated him, conspired against him, felt such a deep ire towards him that it rendered him invisible to all those around him, made him less than nobody in their cruel, cruel eyes. OOO"Nobody?" he heard then, a song on his ears, "Johannes, you sound like a complete and utter fool, saying something like that. There isn't a single dragon Underfoot who doesn't know your name." OOOWith a strange warmth and invigoration in his chest that he'd never quite felt before, Johannes then accepted his new position as Knight Commander Johannes, a name and title that would come to strike a cold fear into all bandits, merchants, and residents Underfoot alike. To them, he's a ruthless soldier who follows orders without a moment's hesitation, who can intimidate anyone with his sheer unfeeling indifference, and who holds on to so little that one might think him immune to attachment altogether. In every room he enters, he forces attention in his wake, every eye and every mind preoccupied with his presence. At every banquet, he has first pick of his order, with whatever purloined delicacies put on display carefully reserved for his enjoyment. His home goes largely undisturbed, with only the occasional bandit attempting to gain his good favor by bombarding him with gifts from a safe distance. He's long past doing any of his own dirty work, now free to delegate his tasks and orders from his kings to the obedient soldiers below him as he awaits the gory details. OOOAnd yet, when Johannes finds himself alone, relaxing in the home he's been granted, sipping expensive, repossessed liquor, with a roaring fire set to keep him warm until his next blissful, uninterrupted rest, he finds that he's not yet made peace with the world. It's put him through far too much, torn him apart and spat on his body so many times that attempting forgiveness would be pathetic, an admittance of defeat. No, no, if he's survived this long, it's about time he starts thriving with a vengeance. OOOBut, as he sits, absentmindedly swirling his drink, he supposes it's all just a matter of figuring out what exactly he wants so viciously from life first… |
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Though Johannes knew that adjusting to his new, respectable life would be difficult, if not particularly dramatic, he certainly hadn't expected the amount of unrelated upheaval his status would bring.
It was years ago; his kings had called him to attention one day, noting that there was a discussion to be had regarding one of the newest recruits to his order. Certainly nothing he typically handled himself, though he supposed any knight that could summon the attention of his rulers ought to summon his attention too. The knight- a young bandit, only an adolescent at the time- could have easily been one of any of the numerous youths trying to earn their place in his order. Still, Johannes knew better than to assume, and his silence served him well; the young knight, his rulers said, had substantial reason to believe that she was his daughter. With regards to verifying her claim, Johannes did admit that his memory had never exactly been consistent, not with all the lapses he'd developed over time, but something in the young Tundra's face and her strange, coiled horns did bear a certain familiarity. At one of his lowest points he'd been approached by an enigmatic figure he supposed was... similar to a Tundra. A businessman, he recalled, some sort of con artist who offered Johannes a bizarre promise of eternal escape from that miserable life he'd been leading; though the hot, floral decay on their breath and the unnerving hollowness of their gaze had always kept Johannes from actually accepting their offer, despite the figure's best efforts at convincing him for the few months they'd been Underfoot. Come to think of it, the notion that Johannes' brief time with that figure had repercussions that far down the line made just enough awful, karmic sense for him to suppose that the young knight could only be telling the truth. After further confirmation, he began to get to know- strange as it was to say it- his daughter, Monroe. The hefty guilt on his shoulders didn't go unnoticed, with most earnest conversations ending in apologies for dealing her such an awful lot in life. But as Monroe revealed more about her life- in her earliest years, prior to the current rule, above ground in Lantern's Light- Johannes came to the startling realization that she had always been... loved. Cared for in his absence, respected by her peers, talented in most of her pursuits. She had a terrible sense of what she wanted, unafraid to seek it out and take it. Though she lamented how unlike her other parent she found herself, Johannes felt that Monroe was remarkably unlike him, too. To him, she was better, tenfold and in every regard. With Monroe now a young adult, Johannes has ensured to hold her to the same standard as all of his knights, though not without keeping a distinct watchful eye on her. While, admittedly, still adjusting to the revelation, Johannes can at least take comfort in one thing; even if he's not certain he's accomplished much else, and even if he's not certain that he'll ever figure out what he truly wants, he knows his daughter proves that he's managed to do something worthwhile...
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R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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H O A R D
G A L L E R Y
^(Art/design by Kalaiscope!)^
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Exalting Johannes to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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