Cuauhtemoc
(#67368888)
Agriculture Storage Manager / Retired builder (he/him)
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Male Snapper
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.36 m
Wingspan
1.99 m
Weight
6449.58 kg
Genetics
Fern
Jupiter
Jupiter
Marigold
Basic
Basic
Aqua
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Snapper
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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Cuauhtemoc
Agriculture Storage Manager / Retired builder A bumbling, bashful snapper, was previously a great hand helping build the pyramid. He was once a confidant lad that would risk his life for his fellow clanmates. Though, one unfaithful afternoon, an accident occurred resulting in memory loss. Cuauhtemoc was ordered off the construction site and told to retire into fieldwork instead. After relearning his clan's culture, he became the agriculture storage manager. He was put in charge of counting the heaps of corn, squash, and beans stored in the many structures made out of wickerwork, plastered with mortar. His memory of his previous self blank, he now fills his head with the growing numbers of crops. He works alongside Zuma, with whom he began developing feelings, slowly establishing a new life for himself. |
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Inventory
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_______________________
Allegiance:
Pronouns: he/him
Orientation: Gay
Partner: Zuma
Theme song: La Da Dee - Cody Simpson
Allegiance:
Pronouns: he/him
Orientation: Gay
Partner: Zuma
Theme song: La Da Dee - Cody Simpson
_______________________
The snapper stirred, forcing his green eyes open. Dust swirled the in the area, a mud-brick split in two laid nearby. He managed to muster in a hoarse voice, "Where- am I?" While struggling to get to his feet. The shadow of an burly Tundra loomed over him, draped in marigold garland. "Oh, thank the Gladekeeper you're awake." Yaotzal stated in a blunt voice. Cuauhtemoc couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not. Before the snapper could reply, he received a faceful of cold river water. Shocked, he blinked rapidly, the blurry image of a fae holding a clay ladle stared at him. "OH, sorry Cuauhtecmoc." Amoxpilli said sheepishly.
Shaking off the water that started soaking his plumed jabbot, the snapper gasped out: "Can someone please explain what's going on?" His head was pounding, and the edges of his vision was cloudy. The tundra laid an arm, dressed with a gauntlet, on his shoulder. This action was supposed to be reassuring, but Cuauhtecmoc ducked away from his clanmates. "Who are you? Why are you touching me?" his hoarse voice in a low growl. Yaotzal and Amoxpilli looked at each other, sharing a thought. "Cuauhtecmoc, you were helping us build our temple just moments ago before this loose brick fell from above and knocked you out." Yaotzal explained. "What?" The snapper huffed a shaky breath. "You should lie down." The Fae fluttered next to Cuauhtecmoc's face, examining the bruised scales on his head. "Then we can take you to Tlaco's hut to get you patched up." "I-I still don't know who you both are. Or who I am." The snapper whispered. "Oh NO." Amoxpilli gasped. "Do you remember our language?" The tundra asked. "T-the one I'm speaking right now?" Cuauhtecmoc asked, confused. "No, our Clan Ocēlōtl's ancient language, Nawatl." Yaotzal prompted, but he knew there was no use. The snapper has lost his memory.
A few hours later, Cuauhtecmoc stood outside near the forest, wearing wrappings around his head, to apply pressure to his bruises. Yaotzal had let the clan know about the snapper's condition, after filling him in with as much information about their culture as possible. Cuauhtecmoc's head had finally stopped pounding, as he settled down to take a deep breath of the Windswept Plateau's fresh air. He watched the construction of the clan's temple continue from afar. The only thing Cauahtecmoc truly remembered, was his name. It meant 'descending eagle' in the clan's language. He pondered about it for a minute. The type of dragon he was, the eagle that had once soared, descended into memory loss. He felt alone. Even if he had friends, he surely wouldn't remember them. He watched a dragon in the distance harvesting limes, curiously. He was told not to work on the pyramid, and to take it easy for a while. "I could help out with the agriculture..." His stomach rumbled, thinking about food. He didn't want to bother the lime harvester and explain his situation, so he looked around at the trees behind him, spotting Marigold-pods hanging from a tree. Cocoa beans. Cuauhtecmoc wasn't sure of what they were, but figured they looked editable enough. He scooped up a pod from the Cocoa Tree, and placed it in his jaw, biting into it hard. The beans burst out, and scattered across the grass. "Woah, woah, woah! What in Sornieth are you doing? That's MONEY you're eating." A voice came from behind the tree. Cuauhtecmoc jumped, started. A handsome Nocturne tilted his head at him. He was clutching a grass basket filled with many of the pods.
"Are you new here? I'm pretty sure I saw a snapper like you working on the temple's construction..." The nocturne said, scooping up as many beans from the grass as possible. "In case we haven't met, I'm Zuma, the currency administrator." He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. "My name is Cuauhtecmoc. And that's basically all I know about myself." The snapper shuffled his feet. "Huh?" Zuma scratched his head with his free arm. "I think I lost my memories. I was in an accident and-" before Cuauhtecmoc could finish, the Nocturne thrust 10 cocoa beans towards him. "Here take these, your daily income of being a member of Clan Ocēlōtl. Anyways, you were saying?" The snapper looked flustered. "Oh uh, nevermind. Thanks." He began to place one of the beans into his mouth just to try them. It tasted soft and nutty. "Oh uh, I don't recommend eating it all. As good as it tastes, we use these as currency here. You know that, correct? You're not a traveller visiting here, right? I mean- you're dressed like us so I'm assuming you're not. " Zuma gestured at Cuauhtecmoc's feathered outfit. "Y-yeah. I'm part of this clan. I just lost my memor-" Zuma began walking down the forest's green hills, his talons chipping away at the cocoa pods. "Cool, cool. Well, I've got to go! I need to deliver ten beans to everyone!" He called out, being too distracted by his basket to attend a full conversation. When the nocturne was out of sight, Cuauhtecmoc sighed, alone again. Looking up, he watched two clouds in the sky meet together, creating a grey, bigger cloud. He stood up and walked towards the village. "I need to figure out... who I was. Who I am."
The snapper stirred, forcing his green eyes open. Dust swirled the in the area, a mud-brick split in two laid nearby. He managed to muster in a hoarse voice, "Where- am I?" While struggling to get to his feet. The shadow of an burly Tundra loomed over him, draped in marigold garland. "Oh, thank the Gladekeeper you're awake." Yaotzal stated in a blunt voice. Cuauhtemoc couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not. Before the snapper could reply, he received a faceful of cold river water. Shocked, he blinked rapidly, the blurry image of a fae holding a clay ladle stared at him. "OH, sorry Cuauhtecmoc." Amoxpilli said sheepishly.
Shaking off the water that started soaking his plumed jabbot, the snapper gasped out: "Can someone please explain what's going on?" His head was pounding, and the edges of his vision was cloudy. The tundra laid an arm, dressed with a gauntlet, on his shoulder. This action was supposed to be reassuring, but Cuauhtecmoc ducked away from his clanmates. "Who are you? Why are you touching me?" his hoarse voice in a low growl. Yaotzal and Amoxpilli looked at each other, sharing a thought. "Cuauhtecmoc, you were helping us build our temple just moments ago before this loose brick fell from above and knocked you out." Yaotzal explained. "What?" The snapper huffed a shaky breath. "You should lie down." The Fae fluttered next to Cuauhtecmoc's face, examining the bruised scales on his head. "Then we can take you to Tlaco's hut to get you patched up." "I-I still don't know who you both are. Or who I am." The snapper whispered. "Oh NO." Amoxpilli gasped. "Do you remember our language?" The tundra asked. "T-the one I'm speaking right now?" Cuauhtecmoc asked, confused. "No, our Clan Ocēlōtl's ancient language, Nawatl." Yaotzal prompted, but he knew there was no use. The snapper has lost his memory.
A few hours later, Cuauhtecmoc stood outside near the forest, wearing wrappings around his head, to apply pressure to his bruises. Yaotzal had let the clan know about the snapper's condition, after filling him in with as much information about their culture as possible. Cuauhtecmoc's head had finally stopped pounding, as he settled down to take a deep breath of the Windswept Plateau's fresh air. He watched the construction of the clan's temple continue from afar. The only thing Cauahtecmoc truly remembered, was his name. It meant 'descending eagle' in the clan's language. He pondered about it for a minute. The type of dragon he was, the eagle that had once soared, descended into memory loss. He felt alone. Even if he had friends, he surely wouldn't remember them. He watched a dragon in the distance harvesting limes, curiously. He was told not to work on the pyramid, and to take it easy for a while. "I could help out with the agriculture..." His stomach rumbled, thinking about food. He didn't want to bother the lime harvester and explain his situation, so he looked around at the trees behind him, spotting Marigold-pods hanging from a tree. Cocoa beans. Cuauhtecmoc wasn't sure of what they were, but figured they looked editable enough. He scooped up a pod from the Cocoa Tree, and placed it in his jaw, biting into it hard. The beans burst out, and scattered across the grass. "Woah, woah, woah! What in Sornieth are you doing? That's MONEY you're eating." A voice came from behind the tree. Cuauhtecmoc jumped, started. A handsome Nocturne tilted his head at him. He was clutching a grass basket filled with many of the pods.
"Are you new here? I'm pretty sure I saw a snapper like you working on the temple's construction..." The nocturne said, scooping up as many beans from the grass as possible. "In case we haven't met, I'm Zuma, the currency administrator." He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. "My name is Cuauhtecmoc. And that's basically all I know about myself." The snapper shuffled his feet. "Huh?" Zuma scratched his head with his free arm. "I think I lost my memories. I was in an accident and-" before Cuauhtecmoc could finish, the Nocturne thrust 10 cocoa beans towards him. "Here take these, your daily income of being a member of Clan Ocēlōtl. Anyways, you were saying?" The snapper looked flustered. "Oh uh, nevermind. Thanks." He began to place one of the beans into his mouth just to try them. It tasted soft and nutty. "Oh uh, I don't recommend eating it all. As good as it tastes, we use these as currency here. You know that, correct? You're not a traveller visiting here, right? I mean- you're dressed like us so I'm assuming you're not. " Zuma gestured at Cuauhtecmoc's feathered outfit. "Y-yeah. I'm part of this clan. I just lost my memor-" Zuma began walking down the forest's green hills, his talons chipping away at the cocoa pods. "Cool, cool. Well, I've got to go! I need to deliver ten beans to everyone!" He called out, being too distracted by his basket to attend a full conversation. When the nocturne was out of sight, Cuauhtecmoc sighed, alone again. Looking up, he watched two clouds in the sky meet together, creating a grey, bigger cloud. He stood up and walked towards the village. "I need to figure out... who I was. Who I am."
_______________________
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