Severen
(#85719728)
Level 7 Veilspun
Familiar
Poltergeist Pile
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Veilspun
This dragon is an ancient breed.
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
1.3 m
Wingspan
1.21 m
Weight
1.74 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Wasp (Veilspun)
Wasp (Veilspun)
Midnight
Bee (Veilspun)
Bee (Veilspun)
Midnight
Branches (Veilspun)
Branches (Veilspun)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 7 Veilspun
EXP: 1129 / 11881
STR
5
AGI
6
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
❝—I have the money, I have the means, I have the strangest dreams❞
|
SEVEREN
Enigmatic, oracular, inscrutable, ominous |
my deeply unserious cult killer
It is a whisper on the wind, calling. He’d thought he was finished, way back when the assassins caught up with him, and he imagines they’d thought so, too. Thought that putting him in the ground would be enough payback for what he’d done.
Absolute garbage, of course. Gravedirt cannot keep him down.
Severen would take credit himself for his miraculous return to the land of the living, but that would be doing Revtael a disservice. The poor guy hunted down Severen’s unmarked grave and dug his corpse up, some gratitude might be in order.
Gratitude, because Severen can settle the score now. He’s sure they’ve written him off. He would write himself off, too, after that whole ‘getting murdered’ ordeal—paranoid was the man that feared a corpse. Once he’s done with them, they’ll all be paranoid. Tearing down their little cult a second time cannot be more difficult than doing it the first time.
He’s patient. He’ll get there.
After, Revtael hustles him over to a basin of water and cheerily tells him to freshen up—you smell like death, you know, darling—and disappears out the door. Severen is left staring into the water, thoughts drifting.
The darkness in the corner of the room writhes, laughs. Everything is different. Severen’s limbs feel stiff, unused, and every breath is shallow and unfamiliar. There is an urge to stretch and twist and move until everything aligns once more, but he isn’t sure it’d help. No amount of limbering up can shake off the aftermath of dying, surely.
When he closes his eyes, he sees only the faces of his assassins. It makes his stomach lurch.
He doesn’t know how long it’s been. Keeping track of time is exceedingly difficult when one is dead. The only thing he knows for sure is that he will get them back for it. Once he regains some sense of equilibrium, he will have vengeance.
His reflection in the basin of water shows a filthy creature, one he hardly recognizes. He smiles and hates how it looks.
Needs a bit of work, he tells himself and dunks his head into the water. He scrubs himself clean and tries again, smiling down into the murky water. Better. Half an hour ago, he was dead; he can give himself some time to recover.
Frankly, he thinks he’s doing great, as most don’t recover from dying at all.
“Are you still alive?” Revtael calls from the other side of the door, sounding as if he worries Severen might have spontaneously returned to being a corpse in the ten minutes he’s been alone. Severen wonders if he should worry, too.
Rolling his eyes, Severen yanks the door open and smiles. “Still alive,” he confirms cheerily and Revtael takes a few steps back, profoundly uncomfortable.
“Perfect! Time to go, then,” Revtael says, trying hard to seem unaffected.
Severen does not say anything, but nods, smiling still. Yes, he thinks, as Revtael leads the way outside, I’ll be fine.
-- lore by @teenyTK !
the formatting got eaten so here is my scuffed remake without paragraphed indents
|
What he remembers of it is fractured and unclear, a collection of bite-sized memories shuffled and squashed together. But Severen recalls their faces with perfect clarity. To some, that might be a blessing. No one wants to remember their own murder. Severen doesn’t particularly want that, either, but the fragmented memories unsettle him. And the darkness from the void between life and death clings to him, soiling his final moments further with odd sensations of weightlessness and echoing laughter, so different from the darkness he otherwise convinces to do his bidding. More stubborn, almost alive, but it is still darkness. It is still his, but in a whole different way, as he had to die for it to acknowledge him. |
Absolute garbage, of course. Gravedirt cannot keep him down.
Severen would take credit himself for his miraculous return to the land of the living, but that would be doing Revtael a disservice. The poor guy hunted down Severen’s unmarked grave and dug his corpse up, some gratitude might be in order.
Gratitude, because Severen can settle the score now. He’s sure they’ve written him off. He would write himself off, too, after that whole ‘getting murdered’ ordeal—paranoid was the man that feared a corpse. Once he’s done with them, they’ll all be paranoid. Tearing down their little cult a second time cannot be more difficult than doing it the first time.
He’s patient. He’ll get there.
|
“I didn’t think it would work,” Revtael had admitted after Severen first awoke, choking on dirt and old blood. It had been a less than graceful affair. Severen stared at him, unimpressed. “But you still tried.” “I still tried,” Revtael had agreed and refused to elaborate, hiding behind a most dramatic flourish of his robes. Severen caught him shoving the dusty tome away into his satchel, movements betraying a lingering nervousness, and it was all mighty suspicious. The math didn’t add up. In the end, Severen had decided that being brought back to life was enough excitement for one day, and he’d let it go. There’d be time for needling Revtael about his intentions later. |
After, Revtael hustles him over to a basin of water and cheerily tells him to freshen up—you smell like death, you know, darling—and disappears out the door. Severen is left staring into the water, thoughts drifting.
The darkness in the corner of the room writhes, laughs. Everything is different. Severen’s limbs feel stiff, unused, and every breath is shallow and unfamiliar. There is an urge to stretch and twist and move until everything aligns once more, but he isn’t sure it’d help. No amount of limbering up can shake off the aftermath of dying, surely.
When he closes his eyes, he sees only the faces of his assassins. It makes his stomach lurch.
He doesn’t know how long it’s been. Keeping track of time is exceedingly difficult when one is dead. The only thing he knows for sure is that he will get them back for it. Once he regains some sense of equilibrium, he will have vengeance.
His reflection in the basin of water shows a filthy creature, one he hardly recognizes. He smiles and hates how it looks.
Needs a bit of work, he tells himself and dunks his head into the water. He scrubs himself clean and tries again, smiling down into the murky water. Better. Half an hour ago, he was dead; he can give himself some time to recover.
Frankly, he thinks he’s doing great, as most don’t recover from dying at all.
“Are you still alive?” Revtael calls from the other side of the door, sounding as if he worries Severen might have spontaneously returned to being a corpse in the ten minutes he’s been alone. Severen wonders if he should worry, too.
Rolling his eyes, Severen yanks the door open and smiles. “Still alive,” he confirms cheerily and Revtael takes a few steps back, profoundly uncomfortable.
“Perfect! Time to go, then,” Revtael says, trying hard to seem unaffected.
Severen does not say anything, but nods, smiling still. Yes, he thinks, as Revtael leads the way outside, I’ll be fine.
-- lore by @teenyTK !
the formatting got eaten so here is my scuffed remake without paragraphed indents
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