Morpheus
(#852205)
Level 5 Imperial
Familiar
Lightning Sprite
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
31.29 m
Wingspan
19.74 m
Weight
7245.99 kg
Genetics
Coal
Clown
Clown
Grey
Shimmer
Shimmer
Jade
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Imperial
EXP: 1566 / 5545
STR
22
AGI
6
DEF
13
QCK
15
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
"
Morpheus
A meaningful quote is like a writing desk 
Morpheus
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The Shapeshifter Morpheus is a being that cannot be pinned down to a particular breed or race, or even determined if he is alive or dead at all. He exists in realms inbetween, where mortals dream and imagination reigns supreme over logic and rationality. He is a Sandman, one of many, a shapeshifter of various forms and sizes. Like the god of dreams he is named after Morpheus is a creator of the dreams we have when we sleep, weaving together intricate tales and mythical beings to dance in the minds of the sleeping. Sometimes these entail nightmares, sometimes a vague memory or train of thought that sticks with you long after the rays of dawn have risen. He is a creator in his own right in the realm he exists in, creating various creatures and landscapes to spend the time he exists in while alone in a place very few can dare to tread. This is not permanent however, as during his creations and duties he meets Mnemosyne, the Seer who Dreams. She like him can exist in this realm as she travels to discover prophecies and visions, and visit worlds and beings that could never exist in the realm of the living. As they encounter each other more and more over time, Morpheus learns the enjoyment of company and how it eases the dull pangs of loneliness that comes from being a solitary being. It isn't long before he falls for her, creating from his imaginations anything she could desire to see to bring a smile to her face, bringing one to his own upon seeing her enjoy herself outside of her own work. When he discovers the price of being able to walk between the sleeping and waking worlds, to trespass between life and death for Mnemosyne to come upon her visions and prophecies is ultimately her own life he despairs at first. The first to ever show him the feeling of love, to give him companionship, to exist awake as he is and able to interact with him is something he doesn't want to lose, he doesn't want to lose her by his side. It is then he takes advantage of the almost infinite possibilities at his disposal and his own magic to ask Mnemosyne for her hand, a promise to stay with him. He cannot save her life, he cannot keep her living in that world when her time comes, but he can keep her here after. She can stay with him, a second chance by his side in this ever changing realm he exists in. He is overjoyed when she agrees, happier than he'd ever felt in the time of knowing her, in the time of simply knowing and feeling emotion. Until that day he continues to weave dreams as he always has, but now he checks in on his love as well, until the day comes where they are together forever. |
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     His eternal love   His creation, Nightmare  The image of a pleasant Dream |
A meaningful quote is like a writing desk
 Charming Resourceful Dreamy
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Art
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Art by 
moodboard by
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The Sandman
He was a creature beyond life and death. Fingers weaving shapes from the air, coiling around his arms until he had brought forth a reality, gazing at the ethereal hallucination. A land where the ground is broken. Floating pieces fit like puzzle shapes, drifting to and fro in an endless suspension. It was grounded in the stillness that Morpheus had seen it fit to wander, hopping from land to land, conjuring up dreams with an out of tune hum, chuckling to himself at his lack of musical ability. “Oh?” He had stopped his merrymaking, spotting the worlds coming together. He smiled. Mnemosyne had burst through to the world, sprinting, chased by playful spirits. Morpheus had uttered a pleased chuckle. “Hello!” He called out, but she had barely heard him, darting off downhill as the imaginary became reality, streams of water filling once empty banks of false land, sewing themselves into a new plane of existence upon her every footfall. She had taken his dreams and crafted herself her own world to delve into. It was a power unlike anything he had seen. Her every touch would spark new life into a world he had poured power into, and it had made his heart pull with adoration to watch the way in which she would bend the very fabric of reality at a mere whim. But he was faster than her. It was easy to accomplish, when one had monstrous wings and a multitude of legs. He had bolted, form shifting to outrun her, as she skid to a halt, spotting the shadow above. The colossal beast had descended upon her, changing form to plop onto a nearby tree branch, tail curling and soft paws perched, Mnemosyne had paused to gawk at the catlike creature. “...You half frightened me to tears, Morpheus! I thought I was having a nightmare.” She admitted with a relieved laugh, slicking back her hair, wringing the fabric of her clothes. “You honestly think I would weave you a dream to frighten you? Are you unaware of my obvious bias?” The cat spoke, and burst, as human legs dangled from the branch, Morpheus offering Mnemosyne a polite, almost smug, smile. “Perhaps not frighten, but you’d certainly tease me. You can’t deny that.” Mnemosyne had countered. She could no longer feel the rush of wind in her ears, and had been confronted instead by the rustling of the forest canopy, the swell of water trickling down the thin brook. “It’s missing birds.” She mumbled, thoughtful. “Birds sing in good weather.” “As you wish.” Morpheus had opened his palms to the sun, and waited, as a whipping of power bubbled in his fingers, moulding a ball and soon, a bird. A dream-bird, wilk silken wings and a song befitting the most beautiful of skies, it had taken off to proclaim its newfound voice. “Ha.” Mnemosyne breathed. “Charmer.” “Am I not always?” Morpheus grinned, showing no malice, only a sweet kindness, as he watched her kneel by the brook, dipping her fingers into the cold stream. “...I was told, once, that foreseeing a prophecy is like dipping your fingers into cold, running water. But it’s never felt that way. It’s so much...more. Do you understand what I mean?” She had asked, looking back, no longer finding Morpheus in the tree. She furrowed her brows, before looking forward, gasping in surprise as she toppled backwards, Morpheus stooped in front of her. “Yes and no. Everything feels soft. Like muffled cotton.” “...And yet you make the world sharper. More alive. You aren’t thanked enough for what you do, Morpheus. So I’ll do it. Thank you, for making it so.” Mnemosyne smiled, nodding her head. Morpheus had laughed, not needing her thanks, but grateful, and admittedly flustered by such kindness. Lore by PunchingSolas |
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