Curculio

Luggage: Dusklight Alchemist Tools Apparel An alchemist's tools of the trade. 900 Ornate Darksteel Necklace Apparel The perfect complement to any outfit, this darksteel necklace appears to absorb the light. 700 Skin: Ceremonial Lightcatcher Pearlcatcher Female Only Brightshine Jubilee 2018. (10/14) Designed by Sky. Itemid #26932

Retired Traveler from ‘Dragons off to see the world’ thread. Looks like this diseased vagabond has found a new permanent home. Owners I've Had: Strangeflesh, #576542 ( Former home) Anomal0car1s Luminax Ikilou whamm minutemilli Strangeflesh, #576542 DevilsNeverCry, #367955 QueenClam, #161167 BigB0yJENKINS, #633029 QuillofWonder Strangeflesh, #576542 Rarecreature, #660133( New home and permanent home ) (put your username/ID here!)

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Travel Log:

User: Anomal0car1s Curculio's hopes to find a doctor were met with nothing when she first arrived on Terreneuvia. This put a damper on the rest of her trip, but she stayed nonetheless because the food was good and she needed a place to rest anyways.

Though she did find out about another dragon, travelling for a reason sort of similar to her. Diphtheria, a mirror struggling with useless wings due to a fungal-like disease he was born with, had departed Terreneuvia a short time before Curculio had arrived. She questioned where he was headed, in case he knew where a good doctor was, but the owner of the inn only shrugged and said he had headed north, probably to the Scarred Wastelands.

Curculio decided not to follow the mirror, as she had just been in the Scarred Wasteland. Instead, she'd go her own way.


Ikilou: It just so happened that this time 'her own way' happened to be South, specifically to the Southern Icefield where she'd heard tales of a clan that welcomed the odd and misunderstood with open wings. Those stories warned that the clan was also home to the shade-touched, those of cursed lineages, and a dragon that practised necromancy and could successfully reanimate the deceased. It was those warnings that caught her attention and pushed her forward, across the Frigid Floes and into the Snowsquall Tundra where this clan apparently lived.

As she wandered the tundra, asking about this mysterious clan and getting nowhere, she began to lose hope and thought that maybe this clan was just a story made up to scare hatchlings. So, she decided that that was enough searching for today and found a nice spot at the edge of an evergreen forest to set up her campsite.

By the time the sun had set, her fire had started to die down, casting shadows from the trees that danced with each flicker of the flame. She had long since gotten comfortable, intending to sleep the night away under the cover of the trees, when a gurgling moan snapped her awake. Suddenly, she was wide awake, sitting up, head snapping frantically side to side to see where the noise had come from. Nothing.

Another moan, closer this time. A shadow lumbering in the dark, candles seeming to float around it's writhing form. Then, another voice, not her own.

"Edward! You get back here this instant!"

Curculio held her breath, her red eyes fixed on the shambling shape and the new shadow that was quickly approaching the first.

Another moan came in response to the voice, sounding more quizzical than the first two sounds she'd heard.

"What am I to do with you..." Sighed the mysterious voice, "Come on, let's get home. You can't just wander off like that! I can't lose you again..."

A sad sound came from the other shadow, showing that it'd understood the voice, then it spoke in a croaky, slurred rattle, "Sorry..."

Now curious, Curculio quietly started to pack up her camping gear, intending to follow the pair. Who were they? Where did they come from? She had so many questions... And what if they knew a doctor?! She had to go figure it out. And so she did. She followed the floating candles in the dark, keeping a few paces behind to avoid being spotted. Then, the pair dipped down into what seemed to be the entrance of a burrow, illuminated with warm lantern light.

By the time she reached the entrance to the burrow, she was certain that these dragons (dragons?) could help her. She was just going to walk up, knock on the door and --

"Can we help you?" The voice from earlier asked, seemingly irate. His smooth tones and articulation sent a shiver of fear down her spine as her eyes locked with the pale blue of a well-dressed Skydancer.

Her throat closed up, shock freezing her to the spot as she stumbled for an explanation as to why she'd just stalked him to his lair, "I, uh, I'm... I heard that... Ah... There... I need a doctor! Do you know any nearby? Please?" She managed to croak, her desperation seeping through into her tone.

The stranger laughed. He was actually there laughing at her, right in her face. Did he not care? What was with this guy, anyway?!

"Of course." He said finally, "My name is Victor. I'm one of this clan's medics. What exactly is wrong with you? My skillset is very... Particular."

"Oh, well, I... I'm suffering with a rare disease that --"

"So you'll need a herbalist?"

"No! It's not that kind of disease, it's more like --"

"So it's more like a virus? Are you contagious?"

"No! I'm not! Some doctor you are! You won't even listen to me!" Curculio huffed indignantly, her gaze narrowing at the Skydancer. It seemed all her fear had disappeared only to be replaced with annoyance.

The Skydancer cocked his head, smirked, shrugged and turned tail to open the door to the burrow.

"Fine... Why don't we visit my office?"

The burrow was warm and comfortable, with soft lighting and hushed voices from each of the sprawling tunnels. Victor led Curculio through these twisting passages until they arrived at another door. He rapped out a pattern on the wood, which gently creaked open to reveal a horrifying sight. Another Pearlcatcher, much like herself, with dead eyes and bones visible through flesh that was clear like ice. Those dead eyes blinked at her, then the creature turned its head to Victor. A twisted smile crept over it's features.

"Yes, this is the dragon you smelled from before." Victor explained to the creature as he walked past and into the chamber, "The one you were talking about that you found outside? She followed us here. Now, Edward, be polite. You of all dragons should understand her plight."

Edward (?) bowed his head politely and allowed Curculio to pass before shutting the door once again. The room that she found herself stood in was out of a hatchling's wildest nightmares - tools and medical equipment lined the walls, a metal table sat to one side while a desk was positioned on the other side of the room. Two beds also took up residence in a back corner, a drawn back curtain exposing that one bed was distinctly neater than the other.

"We have an inn as part of the burrow where you can stay while you're here. Until then, why don't you tell me about your situation?" Victor said, perching on the pillow behind the desk, while Edward made himself busy by pulling over a fresh pillow for their guest to sit on.

"Interesting... I think I understand. You're in the right place, that's for sure. You're lucky Ed here sniffed you out - he was saying that you smelled like death too and it got him curious. Though, I'm sorry to say that my speciality is reanimation of the dead, not... Extraction of spirits that cause zombie-like effects in their hosts." Victor explained after hearing Curculio's story, his claws tapping his beak as though deep in thought.

"But maybe..." He mused before Curculio's disappointment could fully set in.

And before she knew it, she'd signed herself up for a few experiments to see if any of Victor's theories would work. Her stay in The Terminal Burrow's on-site inn (The Cold Brew Inn) was relaxing other than that. She found herself welcomed by the other clan members who understood her situation to some degree or another. Victor's experiments were never pleasant but if they helped her get closer to being rid of her curse then she could endure it. That and it turned out that Edward was actually quite a pleasant conversational partner, a fascinating dragon that'd been stillborn and resurrected by his brother while they were still hatchlings.

After a few weeks, Curculio was becoming tired, starting to believe that the doctor might not be able to cure her after all, when he suddenly pulled her into his office.

"I know another like me who may be able to help you further. Take my research to them... Last I saw them they were in the Shifting Expanse trying to see whether electricity would have any effect on the dead. They may have moved since then but if you ask around I'm sure you'll find them. But, before you go, let me try one last thing..."

And she did.

The next morning when she awoke, her head fuzzy and memories of the previous night hazy, she found that the Platinum stripe that once ran down her body was now clustered around her joints and face like tattoos. The power that her curse held thrummed in those areas, as though it'd been somewhat contained in the sigil-like pattern. A new necklace also hung around her neck, one that she briefly recognised as similar to the one that Edward wore. As she studied her body, she noticed a folded envelope on her bedside table atop bag stuffed with papers.

'I was partially successful in containing your curse. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. Keep this necklace on to control it. Don't lose it and do not take it off under any circumstances, unless you find a more effective cure and can be sure that you no longed need it.

You wont need to come to my office anymore, but Edward and I would not complain if you'd like to make a social call while staying with us.

Signed,
Victor & Edward'

A wave of relief washed over Curculio. She was one step closer to a cure. She'd just rest in The Terminal Burrow for a bit longer to regain her strength before moving on.


Strangeflesh: Across the great and vast wastes of Sonrith, the corpse-being dragged herself. Her body was starting to give out, the spirit within in her was stirring. It would ooze out of her eyes, out of her wounds, ready to infect and spread. She took the medicine and held the necklace in her paws, it helped, but it still hurt.
Across the sea without a name, the windy, bloody coasts, and into her plagued homeland, she went. Curculio was tired, so she rested at a local hotel. That's when the spirit began to speak. From inside her, from the deepest chamber of the soul, there rose a voice, the voice of that other, that other self, that she had not heard for a long, long time.

"And so it has come to pass, my darling self. My ashes have begun to fade away. But I will spread, you are not the last of me. I will go out through the world, the infection will spread, and I, my beloved self, will live again in a thousand different forms."

She began to vomit, violently and rapidly. The cognition had noticed the necklace, was trying to escape from her body.

No.
She wouldn't let her hurt anyone else. She had to hold within her, forever. She couldn't find a cure. She was the cure.

Curculio had resisted the spirit within her, but she was hurt. Very hurt. At least if she died, that meant she won. She limped towards the nearest shelter and fainted inside.

She awoke to to smell of aged books and mildew, with a small Fae standing next to her.

"Hello Curculio. Welcome to my library." It said, as expressionless as any Fae.
"How do you know my name?"
"I know lots of things."
"Well, who are you?"
"I'm Bookshelf. This is my library." He didn't say any thing else after that.

Curculio was well-taken care of by the strange fae, until she took her leave.

BigB0yJENKINS: Bookshelf was a good caretaker but although she gained some of her strength back Curculio's traumatic dry-heaving experiences still left her feeling completely shot. She barely had the energy to haul herself out the door but she tried to drum up the resolve to leave the plaguelands for good, it was a horrible reminder of her drippy flesh curse and she just wanted to be anywwhre but here. Unfortunately once she actually began her trek she didnt get very far. After pushing herself to her limits she began to drip and drip until she finally had no choice but to collapse on the plagueland floor, defeated.

"Hello there, flesh lump," she heard hazily over the sound of her ears churning, "are you sapient?"

"What??" She managed to gurgle. Who would say something like that??! When she looked up to see the answer to her question she almost had to close her eyes again. The reflection of sunlight off this rude individual felt blinding, and as her eyes focused Curculio realized that it was reflecting off of pure gold.

"Ah, so you are," concluded the creature. "You never can tell around these parts. Not everyone is, you know."

Curculio struggled to get up. "You don't need to insult me. I already know I'm disgusting."

"Oh, no more disgusting than any other carbon-based nitwit," dismissed the stranger, "all the same, the lot of you. I wish I didn't have the misfortune of living in a carbon-based land, but, such is the luck of Dr. Gildenstein."

"Doctor?" Curculio managed to choke out. "You said you're a doctor?!"

"The very best," preened Gildenstein, perking up at the opportunity to talk about herself. "I am the greatest alchemist in the world, a master at my element, and that element is GOLD! I can transform any inferior substance into the stuff, including yours truly! I actually renewed my glorious golden scales just a few weeks ago, do you like it?" She posed a little and rapped the metal on her arm for effect. Curculio was not as impressed as the gold doctor hoped she'd be.

"Alchemy," she said, "so like magic?"

Gildenstein scoffed derisively. "Shows what you know. Alchemy is far-"

"Can you remove curses?"

Gildenstein frowned. She didn't like the constant diversions. "Depends on what the curse is."

Curculio looked at her incredulously, gesturing wordlessly to her body.

"You don't want to be made of organic molecules...?"

"I don't want to be dripping with rotting meat," Curculio said exasperatedly. "Is that within your area of expertise?"

"Everything is within my area of expertise," said Gildenstein quickly. "And I agree that your flesh situation is quite problematic. We'll have to do something about it. Luckily for you, I have just the solution."

Curculio allowed herself to be led back to Dr. Gildenstein's laboratory (she pronounced it "la-BOHR-a-tory"). This wasn't the first time she'd been led to the lair of a dubious medical professional with no manners, but she desperate for any progress on her curse and, at the very least, a place to stay. It's not like she could get any worse.

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"You know, you're not the first meatling to desperately seek my genius remedies," said Gildenstein nonchalantly as she casually swung some levers and giant switches.

"You don't say," Curculio said from the giant machine she was strapped into, although she wasn't fully secured what with her more liquid parts oozing through the cracks. She looked idly around the room. It was entirely covered in gold from ceiling to floor; the only thing that broke the monochromatic sea of shiny yellow besides herself was the firetruck-red stone that crowned the contraption she was currently hooked up to. "Were you able to help them?"

"Of course I helped them," scoffed Gildenstein. "In fact, every last one of them walked away in a better state than they had been in before they needed me. There have been a few ungrateful buffoons, to be sure, but they were simply too foolish to realize how I had improved them."

"I see," mused Curculio. "And they all came out in one piece?"

"And they all-?!" Gildenstein sputtered incredulously. "Of COURSE they came out alive!! What kind of alchemist do you think I am??! Are you insinuating that I am a QUACK?!!"

"No," said Curculio coolly, after some consideration. "Not at all."

"I should hope not," huffed Gildenstein. "Now, do be quiet. This part requires concentration."

Curculio obeyed, listening intently to the sound of metal parts slamming and clanking behind her. Dr. Gildenstein had also launched into a bout of maniacal cackling, but she tried to ignore that part. The only sound more disconcerting was when she heard the laughing stop.

"What's wrong...?" she said nervously over her shoulder.

"Ahem, nothing a genius can't fix," said Gildenstein unconvincingly. "Only a minor setback!"

Curculio said nothing, hoping she hadn't tempted fate by trusting this lady. She had thought her situation couldn't get worse, but there was a lot that could go wrong right now. And was that SMOKE..?!

"LOOK OUT!!!" shouted Gildenstein over the sounds of the machine, and a flash of blinding light of filled the room. When Curculio opened her eyes, she checked herself expecting to see a pile of charred goop, but instead looked down to see a remarkably solid surface of...metal...

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting.

Gildenstein came out from behind the machine, rubbing her chin in thought. "Ahh, just as I feared," she said dejectedly, "your curse is remarkably strong. As brilliant as I am, I was only able to aurify the outer layer of skin. The rest, I'm afraid, is still just meat and bones."

"This is...actually not terrible," she observed. She had never felt so...clean before. Her insides still felt sick, but it was all contained within her golden shell. No more dripping, no more skin sloughing off...and she finally looked normal. "Wow. I...thank you, Doctor Gildenstein."

"Oh, don't thank me, you're still just a flesh dragon on the inside. What a disgrace!" she fussed. "But at least you are golden on the outside. Do be careful, though," warned Gildenstein, "for I am not sure how that perfect golden shell is going to interact with the putrefaction behind it. I can assure you that I have never failed so spectacularly before, and so I have no frame of reference for a creature like yourself."

"Well, it's good enough for me," said Curculio firmly. "Thank you again, but I must be off."

And with that, Curculio set off to her next destination with renewed confidence. It felt wonderful not having to worry about literally keeping herself together as she flew, as all her loose rotting bits were safe and secure inside her shell. And no one would be the wiser! She had been looked upon with disgust and pity her whole life, so she was eager to finally, maybe, be treated like a normal dragon. Or even, she thought with cautious optimism, a beautiful one...her heart reeled at the thought. Maybe that Gildenstein had a point. Gold was pretty nice after all!

QuillofWonder: Travel after her skin and scales were turned to gold were easier than before. Her skin didn't drip, and even when she grew tired, she found that she was still better able to walk than she had been before. Truly, even if Gildenstein had been horrified by the supposed disgrace, she didn't mind at all. In fact, she thought it was just about the best thing to have happened if she couldn't be an entirely mechanical dragon.

In her travels, she found herself traveling into the sea, exploring the cool waters that helped to soothe her heated metallic skin, and there, she found herself approached by a wildclaw. She couldn't help the horror on her face as she saw him, saw the exposed bone across his face and down his neck into his chest, and she tried desperately swimming away. Somehow, luckily, she wasn't followed, and she pulled herself up onto the nearby rocky shore. She'd explore more of the sea later, but...but for now she needed rest. Swimming was hard, and her wings were even heavier than usual in the water, and so resting now would be good.

The next day, she woke up to the sound of splashing, and a carefully-piled basket of dried kelp, prepared dishes carefully wrapped in leaves that seemed to be insects on rice and wrapped in seaweed, all sorts of food. Enough food to both replenish her energy as well as give her meals for the next day or so. She looked around, wondering who had given such a bounty to her, before settling down and enjoying a proper meal, before enjoying the rest of the day swimming.

And so the next several days went like that. Curculio would awake to find a new basket of food, ranging from the rice and insect wraps to pancakes studded with honey ants, and all sorts of rich and decadent food. She'd spend time swimming, and would occasionally see the horrifying plague-like dragon like some terrifying specter of the sea. But as time went on, the dragon seemed to continue to give her space, almost more as though they were making sure she stayed safe, rather than actually haunting her.

It wasn't until she found herself in active danger that she realized just how true that was. A storm swept in faster than she had realized storms could. While the weather had been clear up until then, the storm swept up from the south, and pushed faster and harder across the sea with the way the warm waters fed the dark clouds. Between the winds churning the waters and the heavy rains pelting the surface hard enough to obscure where the sea ended and the sky started, Curculio couldn't figure out where to go. Her wings kept pulling her down, and she couldn't figure out how to swim fast enough to the surface, or even to get into the sky where she could fly home, and as the rains obscured the coast, she quickly grew terrified that she wouldn't make it. Had she survived the diseases, the alchemy, all of it, just to die from a storm?

No, she wouldn't. The wildclaw specter found her in her panic, and despite the additional weight from her metallic shell, the wildclaw didn't seem to have any issues whatsoever as he pulled her through the water. Further, the water churned by his wings as he swam seemed to add air to her lungs, letting her get enough oxygen to breathe, and she found herself too exhausted to continue fighting anymore.

The next thing she heard was the crackling of fire, and she realized she was far warmer than she had been since settling down on the beach. As she opened her eyes, she saw the wildclaw there, carefully tending to a fire, and even a bit of a lean-to created in the shadow of the nearby trees, keeping the last of the rain off of the two of them. The poor wildclaw didn't look any more attractive this close, but as she watched them, she realized that this wasn't a Plague dragon at all, not unless they had somehow found a way to change the color of their eyes.

"You're...you're a water dragon..."

The dragon nodded, glancing over at her for a moment before returning to the pot he was tending. "I am. And you're plague. Any other obvious questions you need answered?"

"But you—"

"Accident in my youth. I'm not contagious, though, almost unlike you."

"I'm not contagious!"

The wildclaw gave her a level look, and she shrank back slightly. At least...she didn't think she was contagious, not with the necklace that had bound the disease and her work in sealing that pestilent spirit away.

"I'm not contagious..."

"I'm Rubato, by the way."

Curculio looked at the wildclaw, looked over them, and their unusual appearance, before nodding. "I'm Curculio."

"It's a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance, Curculio. There's a mushroom stew in the pot, if you want. You must be exhausted, still. The weather should be fairly clear over the next week or so, but be sure not to try swimming again if there's more than a couple of clouds in the sky. Storms move in fast, and move out fast, and you can't make your own air underwater like a Water dragon can. I'd hate to have a repeat of today."

Curculio opened her mouth to reply, to thank the dragon, but they simply disappeared into the water with a splash, and she found herself alone with the stew and the fire, and as she took a bite of the food, she wondered if it had been Rubato giving her the meals for so long.

The days proceeded as they had in the same way, though Curculio found herself swimming further out to try and find Rubato again. She couldn't travel very deep into the water, nor swim very far out into the Sea, but at least she could spend all day swimming to see if she could find the dragon again. Despite their rocky introduction, she wanted to get to know the wildclaw better. She couldn't even explain it outside of his eyes looking almost...sad, or something.

It took nearly a week before she saw any hint of him again, hiding among an outcropping of rocks, deeper than she would normally be able to swim, but...he was there, wasn't he? He wouldn't let her get hurt again.

He seemed surprised as she actually started swimming towards him, and he almost seemed to try to swim away before he realized that she wasn't about to stop. There was a brief moment as they looked at each other, before he rolled his eyes and finally swam to join her, and both slowly swam up towards the surface of the water.

"Are you trying to get hurt?"

"I wanted to see you again."

Rubato gave her a strange look before sighing and nodding, and they swam back to shore, shaking the water off of their scales before settling down next to each other. Curculio looked over him, the injuries that looked as gruesome and horrifying as some she had seen while in the Plague territories, the finely-etched armor on his legs, and how he seemed to refuse to hide any of his injuries.

"I...do have some medicines for you. General ones. Mostly for pain, if you need them."

"How did you know I was sick?"

Rubato looked up from the sack he was pulling small vials out of, and he shrugged. "I wanted to be a healer. Learn medicine, proper medicine. The plague flight honestly has some of the best dragons for that—"

"What?"

"I mean, yeah?" Rubato glanced up at her before shrugging. "Medicine is a way for dragons to fight and prevail over disease, right? Just as much as, like, living through it. So some Plague dragons develop medicine. I worked with them for a bit when I was young. It's not hard to recognize someone afflicted with the Plague curses with that sort of experience."

"Did you...were those injuries from that time?"

"Yeah." Rubato looked away briefly, shrugging. "I was treating a patient, and ended up contracting the disease. We were both cured, luckily, but the scars and injuries remain. And I end up hibernating far more often than not anymore, unfortunately. But for the most part, I'm fine. And at least I have more experience to treat others, so that's something."

Curculio looked at Rubato for a few moments before shifting to settle closer to him, sitting next to him and very gently wrapping her tail around his. "That's very brave of you. and smart. Something like that."

Rubato laughed softly before leaning against her in return, and she found that she truly didn't mind the strange feeling of his scarred body press against the metal of her scales.

The days continued to pass, and the two swiftly fell in love, spending as much time as possible together. A shock came, though, when Curculio and Rubato ended up with an egg. Of course they knew it was a possibility, but Curculio honestly hadn't expected it to be possible, what with her strange flesh interior and her metallic exterior, but they found themself with a next of a single egg.

Curculio couldn't help but be terrified. Would her curse pass onto the egg? Would the lingering scars of disease from both her and Rubato pass onto the hatchling? Should she and Rubato have tried for hatchlings at all? She wasn't ready for this, didn't know what to do at all, and she found herself almost regretting everything so quickly. She never should have done this, never should have fallen for Rubato at all, and she quickly started making plans for where to leave next. At the very least, she needed to get back to the hunt to try and ensure that any lingering curse or demon was destroyed, so that no one would be haunted by them again.

"You're sure you're leaving?"

Curculio looked at Rubato, and looked at the hatchling that had emerged from the egg, a beautiful mix of both her pre-metallic appearance, and Rubato's, and without any hint of the disease that had plagued her the entire life. Little Allegretto seemed...perfect, and only served to further her need to leave before she ruined everything, or before the diseased spirit decided to come back to hurt her and those around her again. "I'm leaving."

Rubato nodded, looking sadly at her, and then down at their little hatchling, so young as to still curl up tight enough to have hidden in his shell again, and he pulled a harness out, with a collection of bottles, pouches, all sorts of things if she should need to create any of the medicines that Rubato had taught her to care for her disease or others. "Here. For you, to keep you safe." He helped her settle it onto her flank, before he pressed his forehead against hers. "You'll always have a home with us. You can always come back, no matter what."

Curculio nodded. She stayed close to Rubato for a moment longer, before pressing her nose to Allegretto's forehead as the hatchling still slept, before taking off and flying into the air, searching for the next step in how to cure the disease that plagued her.

Strangeflesh: Curculio was old now, almost cured of the long plagued curse. She felt like it was right to return home. The city of plague know as Corrosionius had only grown, great spires of muscle and metal reaching out into the air. The locals did not remember her, she was only a disgusting hatchling thing when she left. Curculio told of her adventures, and they were listened, but they were not too strange. Really, no-one cared.

But she felt something. The origin point of her curse. Withering somewhere in the swamp, a terror born from a time before the flights rose. It was a great Old Thing. It was known as the Psoriasis–but it was a name long killed by the beast. Alice, she spoke her name to Curculio. She spoke slowly to her from far away in her mind, telling of thousand plagues buried in a sanguine sunrise, a long dead god that poured deathless wrath in a fountain of disease, forever still.
Unaware of her thoughts, she began to approach the undulating thing, which seemed a withered tree with brittle bones woven in.
She said, "I am sorry for the pain that the eternal body has caused you. When it happened, I was not a person yet."
And then she left. Leaving Curculio more dazed then ever.

User: Write about Curculio's experiences here!