Sirkal
(#79579759)
HUNGER OF THREATS
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Female Obelisk
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
14.8 m
Wingspan
13.27 m
Weight
5485.22 kg
Genetics
Sable
Swirl
Swirl
Blood
Butterfly
Butterfly
Flaxen
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Obelisk
Max Level
STR
118
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
29
INT
5
VIT
9
MND
6
Biography
ABOUT
he/him, bisexual
Has an eye for pretty things, likes to see them protected, kept pure and beautiful. Does not . . . respond well, when the things it likes are threatened. Likes to see those threats crushed.
He approves strongly of Independent's tetrahedron collection and helps her hang new additions up in the throne room.
GUARDING THE VAULT
Sirkal was a member of the security detail for a high-status bank that specialized in housing exquisite gems and jewels. He watched over a variety of rich and opulent clients, and part of the ideal of the job was just seeing them move, talk, flash their wealth. He thought that mere observation would suffice—until one young dragon, a back-up heir to a noble house, accompanied his aunt into the bank one day, and Sirkal realized he wanted more.
. . . Which was well, well above his station. The noble family did not approve of his courting one of their heirs, secondary as he may be, and used their considerable influence as leverage against the bank. He was sacked—but the desire, banked by anger, only flamed higher. The young heir continued to meet him in secret, and though Sirkal's living conditions worsened day by day with no respectable business willing to take him on, he was content with their secret relationship. It, of course, couldn't last. Their dalliance was discovered. The young heir rebelled, refusing to end the relationship and indeed, threatening to leave the house and join Sirkal in poverty. The house could hardly have that. So they went to Sirkal instead, told him, if he didn't break off the association, they would break the heir.
He couldn't stand such a beautiful creature to be harmed. So he fled, at long last leaving the city far behind, guilt and anguish eating at him from within.
MENACE
For a long while, Sirkal avoided all security-related positions, hating how he'd abandoned his lover out of fear, because he'd been unable to protect him from his own family in all their power and connections. He tried just about everything else, hoping something would click, or at least be bearable. Farming, sewing, scribing, smithing, couriering, laundering. He hated it all, and it hated him back. The anger would flash out at times, when he was frustrated with threading a needle, or couldn't locate an obscure address, and that anger often turned him violent—which later burned into shame. That wasn't security, wasn't protecting his charges, only ruination, loss of control, failing again.
He tried to tamp it down, never give in to the roil of destructive emotions within. He clamped down on every feeling, moving mindlessly, without thought, only doing what was expected of him and instructed to him. Until one day he brushed with the underbelly of the city, and came to know the dragon the whispers called Menace.
Menace was the infamous crime boss of the city, who led not the biggest gang, but the cruelest one, and was so well-known for their sudden, impulsive attacks on hapless dragons who wandered unknowingly into their territory, and left them broken and bruised within an inch of their life. That was Sirkal, who turned the wrong corner at the wrong time while out running deliveries for a bakery. Menace was walking by with a couple of their cronies, saw the cheerful decal on the side of Sirkal's cart, and took a dislike to it.
Sirkal didn't fight back, just cowered and tried to protect his face as the gang had their fun with him, not daring to do anything that might upset them further, just praying silently that it would be over soon. That changed when the leader, Menace, leaned in close at the end to hiss in his ear, "You ever come down this street again, there won't be a piece of you left to bury."
And left, laughing, with their subordinates, leaving Sirkal in the wreckage of the cart, surrounded by ruined breads and splintered wood. He lay there a while, startlingly awake, conscious, in a way he hadn't been for . . . years, he realized.
I am . . . he realized, angry. Those breads had been so carefully baked, decorated, and packaged, eagerly awaited by their buyer. And the cart, the planks planed and neatly joined, the bakery's sigil brightly painted. And Menace had treated it like nothing.
Menace's threat didn't make him scared. It just p!ssed him off. In the same way, he noticed, the noble house's threat of ruining their secondary heir had. This time, however, Sirkal had nothing to lose. No pretty things to save. Only a threat to answer.
It took some time. A little preparation, several sleepless nights—cold ones, after getting fired by the bakery for being stupid enough to draw the ire of Menace. But once Sirkal had tracked Menace's patterns, and knew the exact time and place they'd be alone, he struck. And thrashed them until there was hardly a scrap of their hide left to bury. Then left the city, feeling ALIVE. Looking forward to a return of his old career: Security.
THE STATE OF FEELING SAFE, STABLE, FREE FROM FEAR OR ANXIETY; BEING FREE FROM DANGER OR THREAT
Sick of being afraid, when Sirkal feels threatened, he throw all his feelings into anger instead. How dare someone endanger him? How dare they think they can even try? No matter the circumstance, no matter the rights and wrongs, if someone threatens something Sirkal feels he wants to protect (his own hide, a friend, a pretty thing), he makes them regret it.
He gets in a lot of bar fights.
He joined the Contractors not as their best fighter, but one who, it seems, is never afraid of any job Independent accepts, no matter the level of crazy or impossible. He just can't be intimidated—any every time he pushes down the fear and acts rather than cower or flee, he's rewarded by that powerful surge of RIGHTNESS, of satisfaction, contentment, of feeling, what must be the first time ever, surely, comfortably full, like after a large meal. Until the next threat claws a new hunger to be satiated.
SHINY!
His eye for the appealing has never left. He gets snappish at any Contractor that is too careless with a piece of finely-crafted jewelry or other item that clearly had a lot of care put into its creation. He's one of the few mercenaries who cares about being well-groomed and presentable, even in his rough attire, and he's frequently teased by the others for being vain, does he need a mirror, oh no, he chipped a claw in a fight, should they kiss it better? He tolerates it, used to their company now, but woe to the dragon that pushes him too far and pretends to drop a ceramic vase or mar a mosaic-ed wall. They're gonna regret it.
-
REACHED LEVEL 25 ON 9/22/2022
Feast of Falling Embers - Lights, Camera, Arson! NotN 2022 [ DAY TWO ]
he/him, bisexual
Has an eye for pretty things, likes to see them protected, kept pure and beautiful. Does not . . . respond well, when the things it likes are threatened. Likes to see those threats crushed.
He approves strongly of Independent's tetrahedron collection and helps her hang new additions up in the throne room.
GUARDING THE VAULT
Sirkal was a member of the security detail for a high-status bank that specialized in housing exquisite gems and jewels. He watched over a variety of rich and opulent clients, and part of the ideal of the job was just seeing them move, talk, flash their wealth. He thought that mere observation would suffice—until one young dragon, a back-up heir to a noble house, accompanied his aunt into the bank one day, and Sirkal realized he wanted more.
. . . Which was well, well above his station. The noble family did not approve of his courting one of their heirs, secondary as he may be, and used their considerable influence as leverage against the bank. He was sacked—but the desire, banked by anger, only flamed higher. The young heir continued to meet him in secret, and though Sirkal's living conditions worsened day by day with no respectable business willing to take him on, he was content with their secret relationship. It, of course, couldn't last. Their dalliance was discovered. The young heir rebelled, refusing to end the relationship and indeed, threatening to leave the house and join Sirkal in poverty. The house could hardly have that. So they went to Sirkal instead, told him, if he didn't break off the association, they would break the heir.
He couldn't stand such a beautiful creature to be harmed. So he fled, at long last leaving the city far behind, guilt and anguish eating at him from within.
MENACE
For a long while, Sirkal avoided all security-related positions, hating how he'd abandoned his lover out of fear, because he'd been unable to protect him from his own family in all their power and connections. He tried just about everything else, hoping something would click, or at least be bearable. Farming, sewing, scribing, smithing, couriering, laundering. He hated it all, and it hated him back. The anger would flash out at times, when he was frustrated with threading a needle, or couldn't locate an obscure address, and that anger often turned him violent—which later burned into shame. That wasn't security, wasn't protecting his charges, only ruination, loss of control, failing again.
He tried to tamp it down, never give in to the roil of destructive emotions within. He clamped down on every feeling, moving mindlessly, without thought, only doing what was expected of him and instructed to him. Until one day he brushed with the underbelly of the city, and came to know the dragon the whispers called Menace.
Menace was the infamous crime boss of the city, who led not the biggest gang, but the cruelest one, and was so well-known for their sudden, impulsive attacks on hapless dragons who wandered unknowingly into their territory, and left them broken and bruised within an inch of their life. That was Sirkal, who turned the wrong corner at the wrong time while out running deliveries for a bakery. Menace was walking by with a couple of their cronies, saw the cheerful decal on the side of Sirkal's cart, and took a dislike to it.
Sirkal didn't fight back, just cowered and tried to protect his face as the gang had their fun with him, not daring to do anything that might upset them further, just praying silently that it would be over soon. That changed when the leader, Menace, leaned in close at the end to hiss in his ear, "You ever come down this street again, there won't be a piece of you left to bury."
And left, laughing, with their subordinates, leaving Sirkal in the wreckage of the cart, surrounded by ruined breads and splintered wood. He lay there a while, startlingly awake, conscious, in a way he hadn't been for . . . years, he realized.
I am . . . he realized, angry. Those breads had been so carefully baked, decorated, and packaged, eagerly awaited by their buyer. And the cart, the planks planed and neatly joined, the bakery's sigil brightly painted. And Menace had treated it like nothing.
Menace's threat didn't make him scared. It just p!ssed him off. In the same way, he noticed, the noble house's threat of ruining their secondary heir had. This time, however, Sirkal had nothing to lose. No pretty things to save. Only a threat to answer.
It took some time. A little preparation, several sleepless nights—cold ones, after getting fired by the bakery for being stupid enough to draw the ire of Menace. But once Sirkal had tracked Menace's patterns, and knew the exact time and place they'd be alone, he struck. And thrashed them until there was hardly a scrap of their hide left to bury. Then left the city, feeling ALIVE. Looking forward to a return of his old career: Security.
THE STATE OF FEELING SAFE, STABLE, FREE FROM FEAR OR ANXIETY; BEING FREE FROM DANGER OR THREAT
Sick of being afraid, when Sirkal feels threatened, he throw all his feelings into anger instead. How dare someone endanger him? How dare they think they can even try? No matter the circumstance, no matter the rights and wrongs, if someone threatens something Sirkal feels he wants to protect (his own hide, a friend, a pretty thing), he makes them regret it.
He gets in a lot of bar fights.
He joined the Contractors not as their best fighter, but one who, it seems, is never afraid of any job Independent accepts, no matter the level of crazy or impossible. He just can't be intimidated—any every time he pushes down the fear and acts rather than cower or flee, he's rewarded by that powerful surge of RIGHTNESS, of satisfaction, contentment, of feeling, what must be the first time ever, surely, comfortably full, like after a large meal. Until the next threat claws a new hunger to be satiated.
SHINY!
His eye for the appealing has never left. He gets snappish at any Contractor that is too careless with a piece of finely-crafted jewelry or other item that clearly had a lot of care put into its creation. He's one of the few mercenaries who cares about being well-groomed and presentable, even in his rough attire, and he's frequently teased by the others for being vain, does he need a mirror, oh no, he chipped a claw in a fight, should they kiss it better? He tolerates it, used to their company now, but woe to the dragon that pushes him too far and pretends to drop a ceramic vase or mar a mosaic-ed wall. They're gonna regret it.
-
REACHED LEVEL 25 ON 9/22/2022
Feast of Falling Embers - Lights, Camera, Arson! NotN 2022 [ DAY TWO ]
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Sirkal 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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