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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.91 m
Wingspan
5.12 m
Weight
462.15 kg
Genetics
Coral
Speckle
Speckle
Carmine
Freckle
Freckle
Blood
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Mirror
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Biography
The rumours were true about the Skinless. At least that was the case for the mirror that went by the name Biceps after her ritual was completed almost a decade ago. She felt so light ever since, so free. So what if she couldn't go for a swim anymore? It wasn't her cup of tea anyway, flying is a much better excercise, as those shady doctors said. Of course, it's about the message too, how she's invulnerable to painr and how she couldn't be threatened y violence and all that jazz that the members back in the cult used to rave on and on about. For her it was about freedom. Without her skin, a part of her fears was ripped off too, as she was already wounded, already vulnerable, so she had nothing else to fear. She saw it as "dying" once. So she wasn't afraid of death anymore. Biceps found herself at the collapsed library by chance, as she was just flying by when she noticed the dragons on the ground running around in a panic. Thankfully, she noticed the hoard of ants before landing, so her soft vulnerable flesh was spared. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of sleeping nearby. At night, she was haunted in her dreams. She remembered when her skin was ripped from her muscles, like a cook strips a rabbit of its fur, in clean cuts and confident motions. But it wasn't completely off no, and she wasn't completely a dragon. Her wings have cracked open, with thin strips of boneless muscles pertruding from their tips, each new limb baring five clawless hands. She could feel them in her back touching her shoulderblades and scratching, flesh on flesh, the edges of her ripped-apart wings, to make them larger, to make more space for them to move. But that's not where her gaze was forced to. She was facing the floor, dangling from her feet, and her skin was still attached to her front legs by long stretches of fat and flesh. It reminded her of how bacon was made. She jolted awake in the middle of the night, disoriented and confused. She couldn't remember her dream. But she was certain it was horrific. Biceps, who was supersticious, took a look at the lights in the camp behind her and decided it was their fault, they must have done something. Who knows what these places of knowledges could do. Maybe all these little lights down there upsetted something or awoken an unspeakable power, like the dragons back in the cult did. In any case, Biceps wouldn't stick around. As soon as she gathered her stuff, she took off continuing her journey. |
    
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Mephitic wanderers are forever touched by their time in the mephitic lair. There’s just…a certain air about them.
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Exalting Biceps to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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