TETRAHEDR0N » Hibernal Den » Prototype

Prototype

(#78166716)

[INITIATE: SECOND INCEPTION TRIAL]...[SUCCESS]...[PROCEED?]

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.81 m

Wingspan

5.27 m

Weight

540.49 kg

Genetics

Tomato
Pharaoh

Tomato
Sarcophagus

Obsidian
Underbelly

Hatchday

May 18, 2022
(2 years)

Breed

Adult
Nocturne

Eye Type

Fire
Common

Level 17 Nocturne

EXP: 17024 / 81619

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

HELLO THERE! HAVE YOU HEARD THE GOOD WORD OF THE FLAMECALLER TODAY? NO? EXCELLENT! HOW ABOUT I SING IT FOR YOU, ON THIS FINE GLORIOUS MORN BEFORE INVIGORATING BATTLE AGAINST THE RELENTLESS MASSES OF S E E T H E!
♫ OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—! ♫

The Flamecaller does not. Make. Mistakes . . . Often. But even She was disappointed, if not a little revolted, by the first inauguration of Her . . . attempt at clean-up. Still, She bade Her warriors to do as they were made to, find and destroy all s e e t h e broiling beneath the surface of Her land. Their hunts, while . . . passable, did not meet Her level of standards, nor keep to Her own tight, impatient schedule. She needed those things gone, and merely containing the population wasn't cutting it.

The Flamecaller could admit She'd been hasty. Not panicking, not afraid—(I AM YOUR GOD)—but stressed. Harried by these millions of tiny bugs biting and crawling all over Her home, Her palace, Her reign. She'd reacted accordingly, slapping together the quickest remedy possible. It's worked, but like a limping engine, a sputtering forge. Iron cast with innate flaws. Flaws reflecting the Flamecaller's own faults, which WILL NOT DO.

And so. A cooler, more careful approach. Round two. An additional attempt, a second inception of warriors crafted from earth and fire to bring ruin to these creatures that haunt Her so.

Prototype, was all She called it. The first of a new generation of perfect soldiers. Perfect weapons. Perfect orders. Perfect war. Utter destruction. Unswerving loyalty. Perfect, and Hers.

Prove to me you will execute my will to exactness, was the command. If I say, jump from this cliff . . .

And he was already falling, falling, falling, diving head-first into the action to see his Goddess' desire fulfilled. A war of extermination? Complete the task failed by the first? Easy-peasy, my liege! Please, how more may I serve you?

Proto's a simple guy. He loves the Flamecaller! She made him perfectly, so he can serve perfectly, and inspire others to do the same. All glory is Hers to claim, as She is perfect, and can do no wrong. To be loyal to Her, why, is a flower turning to the sun! There is no other way to live!

So why can't you do the same?

Prototype just can't get the First Inauguration. Family, whatever. He saved their butts, established ranking order, and informed them of their new directive from their maker, and they're,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,not??? pleased???? about it????? He would've bounced for joy to continue to be of use to Her Magnificence if he were as decrepit, rundown, misery, dysfunctional, outdated, sloppy, lazy, slow, and frankly, inelegant as these mangy old louts. Er, respected . . . honored . . . predecessors. Ahem.

Prototype doesn't understand why the Flamecaller didn't just send the androids to collect the family for stripping. Sure, they likely would have fought back, but the androids could handle it! Or just him, even! He could take all four (Five? But really just three, with the small one's inability to fight out of the mantle.) by himself. Probably. Not that he needs to understand! Her reasons are Her own, Her brilliance and foresight far beyond the reach of his own measly comprehension!!

But still. Instead, now, they have to *shudders* work together, and by the Deities is that work. Proto likes his job. Loves it, in fact! Slaying monsters, marching and flying in formation together as a squad, sharing stories and laughing at jokes (and most of all, SINGING THE FLAMECALLER'S ANTHEM!) around the night's cookfires—wartime is a delight! But whenever the first family disobeys orders and emerges with the s e e t h e they drive out of the mantle through a volcano, and Prototype gets sent to shoo them back below the crust . . . hrhrhghglwelkfjwlekhds lkhg GAH ! What complete dipsticks they are! The flagrant disrespect (not just to him but to their maker!) and laziness (naps! naps! who invented these??) and sheer anger. Proto's never known anger. Never seen it in any of his fellow soldiers. Only in the s e e t h e does he know rage, helplessness, malice.

He sees it in the family too. But he just can't puzzle out why.

Fortunately, the war keeps his mind off such frivolous matters. His liege's orders must be obeyed, Her will heeded, Her objective completed. It is all Prototype is for, and it is all he wishes to be.

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Exalting Prototype to the service of the Flamecaller 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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