Charade
(#83002697)
Level 1 Imperial
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
24.68 m
Wingspan
21.7 m
Weight
8786.51 kg
Genetics
Cerise
Savannah
Savannah
Maroon
Sludge
Sludge
Mauve
Firefly
Firefly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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 C H A R A D E 
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
GENERATION VI MORGANA'S LINE NAOMI G5 | IGNIS G5 
"Quote"
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The entry is written in faded ink, a date scrawled at the top of the page next to a short title that reads “Costumes”. It the account of one Amy Porter regarding a set of costumes she created following a strange dream. It all started a few weeks back. I hail from the Reefcleft Ascent, a place well known for the twisting gusts of wind along with the festivities of its people. It is not unusual to see those who come to sell their wares here dressed in all manner of extravagant costumery. Even so, I crossed paths with someone who stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a pallid Coatl who stood out from the crowd of those adorned in costumes of brightly colored feathers and golden bangles. Instead, he wore pale articles of apparel, transparent silks and a satin white top hat. Few others seemed to notice him moving through the crowd and when he caught me staring, he simply met my gaze with piercing blue eyes and a courteous smile. I lost him amidst the crowd a moment later, only to be startled by a soft voice that came from beside me. “Amy, isn’t it?” I certainly can’t tell you how a complete stranger knew my name, but I returned a worried smile and reply. “Oh, um. . . yes. And who-“ Before I could ask more regarding the stranger’s identity, he pushed something into my hand. I looked down to find a rolled paper and when I glanced back up, the Coatl had disappeared. What was left in my hand was a rolled flyer for a circus. Still, though it clearly advertised an event, there were no dates or location where this circus might be held. I shrugged and discarded the thing in a nearby recycling receptacle. Ever since that day, I began to have the strangest dream. I’m not the type who typically dreams very often, but the dreams I began to have were vivid. In them, I always find myself standing amidst a series of tents that radiate light against a dusky sky. They are unmistakably the tents of a great circus with stripes of red and black painting the stretched canvas. From within, the sounds of a grand performance echo and despite the hairs that stand up along the back of my neck, I still find myself compelled to step forward. The entrance to the largest tent looms like the great maw of a beast and it is dark and warm within. I see the faint flicker of fire light and hear the cheering of a crowd before the final barrier of cloth lifts away and a great circus ring spreads out before me. I am sure there are many acts, but the one I always arrive to is that of a great beast jumping through a ring of fire. It is contained within a cage of wrought iron and it seems to circle round and round, leaping through the flames. I couldn’t tell you what kind of beast it is, for it appears to be some kind of chimera. At times, its flowing fur comes so close to the crowd, that one might simply extend their hand to reach through the bars and grasp it. I am always struck with the thought that perhaps the creature is not truly contained by the cage it is dancing in. Sometimes, for just a moment, its eyes lock upon mine and I think that it might be smiling. I awaken each morning thinking that during these dreams, I must be sleep walking. Sometimes, my bare feet are covered in soot and dust, my nightgown singed where embers from a fire may have landed upon it. More recently, I’ve begun to awaken to find mementos from the night tucked away around my home. They are always what appear to be scraps of cloth. . . tattered pieces of costumery or occasionally striped portions of canvas that appear similar to the material comprising those tents in my dreams. I’ve begun to consider that perhaps, I am not always dreaming. You know, I design costumes for a living and I’ve recently begun to wonder what would occur if I used these souvenirs to create a new set of costumes. I have three that I’ve started working on, inspired by that beast who leaps through fire. We visited the Reedcleft Ascent to follow up with Amy Porter, who noted that since her completion of the trio of outfits, she had stopped having dreams of the circus. All three of the outfits had sold, although Amy noted that the three customers who purchased them had replied complaining of bad dreams. . . prior to their sudden disappearance. None of the costumes were recaimed from the belongings of those who went missing.
Layout and artwork by awaicu
Banners by PoisonedPaper
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