nyucimol
(#86394147)
experimental failures
lukasus
False Sphinx
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Guardian
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
13.2 m
Wingspan
15.84 m
Weight
11136.28 kg
Genetics
Nightshade
Starmap
Starmap
Twilight
Constellation
Constellation
Banana
Veined
Veined
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 12 Guardian
EXP: 27061 / 38956
STR
60
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
27
INT
5
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
| xx |
fate creator visionary the doomed hometown hellwell undercroft charge machine x-14 likes machines power code hates the eleven gods magic socialising   |
═══════════════════════════════════════════ NYUCIMOL ; neural machine ═══════════════════════════════════════════ "you know i can't follow you there." he grits his teeth, shakes his head. "that's not... i'm not..." the machine cannot speak, but it tilts its head, hops on the spot. he fitted it with a module that emulates the language of a long-extinct species of bird. over time he's learned the language, so now he knows it just as well as the machine does. it hops, once, twice. a crooked head tilt. it's saying "aren't you lonely?" "of course i am," he responds, bitterness seeping into his voice, "but there's no time. you're one of the hive, you know what we're doing, you know it's coming, i can't leave now." the machine shakes, a full-body shudder, and teeters to the side on its spindly legs. he only made it as a prototype. those that will be built on its template will be big as mountains, and not roughly constructed of rusty scrap metal. it runs brazenly off into the night, careless, before he can call it back. he grits his teeth, but he can't give chase. not while x-14-d ticks steadily behind him, the metal warming, ready to come to life. it's almost done. it's almost... when it's finished, he'll be powerful. better than the gods. magic and machinery war with each other, but machinery will always win. magic is feeble and fleeting, while he can run down each pathway of wiring and coding with his mind and know exactly what is for what, and how he can tweak and fix and change things. this machine will succeed. he will succeed. no matter that the last three x-14 machines failed. this time, he knows. this is all he's ever worked for. and he'll get revenge for what was dealt to him, one way or another. the hive, it grows... ═══════════════════════════════════════════ "that isn't going to work." nyucimol grits his teeth so hard he hears a worrying crack. great, that's all he needs. the sun is beating down ruthlessly on his back, the cogs in the mini-machine's gearbox are bent and jammed (defective from the start. ugh), and now that horrible imperial is back again. peering over his shoulder, making snide comments, being stupid. "why are you even out here, again? you must know there's nothing useful in this place." he knows nothing! his lamplight-yellow eyes speak whispers of a land of scholars, hidden in pale marble parliaments tucked between autumn-bronzed trees, but he is stupid. he's a cook, for creation's sake. and not a good one at that. and yet all he does is hover around and act like he knows what he's saying! "maybe you should try the hellwell undercrof-" "go. away. leave me alone." ha, the hellwell undercroft! nyucimol HAD the hellwell undercroft. then they decided they were too good for him, and threw him out. the plague clans! united! that doesn't just happen! insolent worms, he'll show them, he just has to... "i'm just saying. all this tinkering isn't very useful in the des-" "i said, go. away." ugh! the audacity! how can he say that, when almost nobody buys his cooking twice? he's useless. most of the food he makes, he burns. he mixes up spices and adds too much. the ingredients he throws in range from sand to beetle dung! he is nothing, nothing at all. once nyucimol gathers enough parts to finish making x-14-j (which, admittedly, may take... quite a while), this horrible worm of a dragon will be the first to go. and next will be the gods. he just has to... the imperial doesn't go away, and nyucimol exhales slowly through his nose, poking through the gearbox with a claw under the blistering sun. soon. | x |
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Exalting nyucimol to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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