Alkahest
(#88838676)
Level 1 Bogsneak
Familiar
Salt and Pepper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Bogsneak
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.62 m
Wingspan
8.74 m
Weight
834.9 kg
Genetics
Plum
Poison
Poison
Storm
Toxin
Toxin
Vermilion
Keel
Keel
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Bogsneak
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
""…""
ALKAHEST
he/him | alchemist
 
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Welco--damn! Apologies, you simply caught me by surprise. Let me clean this up, but please come in. What brings you in today?
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Hm? Oh yes. I can do that for you. It’s a simple process, quick, too.
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Yes, it is only temporary. The color will fade after the next moon. I do offer modifications that are a little longer lasting, permanent even, but it never hurts to try something different out for just a little while. Sometimes even a brief change can be invigorating. Please take a seat here and I will begin your brew. …. …… ……... You’re quiet today. Do you mind if I fill the silence? I sometimes think my brain and my mouth are directly wired to each other. One often tends to run better if the other is as well.
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Thank you. You know, the life we live is written on our bodies. All we are, all we do, and all we experience paint themselves across the canvas of our scales and serve as proof of our existence. And, I believe that, while there is beauty in the marks made during the incidences of living, the ones we choose to paint are far more poignant. While we do not choose the body we are born into, we can choose how best to make ourselves feel at home within it. Perhaps this is unsurprising given my profession, but I’ve added quite a few coats of paint to myself over the years. I bear scant resemblance to the dragon I had been in my youth, but I feel it is for the better. My upbringing came with some rather high expectations, ones I could never meet. Business and high society politicking never came easily or naturally to me, no matter how hard my tutors and parents tried. I could never say the right things, find the right cues, and I absolutely loathed parties. Instead I found comfort—and excelled—in science, alchemy obviously. Oh, did you want a gloss or matte finish?
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Good choice. Now, unfortunately, anything beyond a passing curiosity in alchemy is not considered particularly respectable here. While my family—seeing how much joy the discipline gave me, never outright forbade this pursuit, they still treated it as a shame. My lab was a secluded shack on the corner of the property and I always had to wear gloves and long sleeves to hide the chemical stains on my claws and arms when I went out in public. Of course, that didn’t stop rumors and whispers behind my back. The older I got, the closer my resemblance to my father and the greater the expectations placed on me—as well as the disappointment when I failed to live up to them. I tried, I really did. But, the harder I tried to live up to my title, the more I turned to the comforts of alchemy during my leisure time. I started to create simple reagents and purified ingredients which I sold to local alchemists and potion brewers until I could amass enough of my own funds to move my laboratory into a shop of my own. I hired another dragon to run the front end while I was able to experiment with new brews in the back. What had once been a hobby became something…more. Increasingly, it felt as if my life as an alchemist was truly my own while life as a high society noble was a stuffy costume I needed to don from time to time. Were you thinking dark cobalt or a lighter, but more intense sapphire?
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Alright. There was no inciting event, no sudden revelation, merely a growing certainty that I would not be able to maintain both lives. In one, I was a noble poorly playing the exhausting game of high society, reputation marred by a less-than-secret shame and followed constantly by whispers. In the other-- even if it felt truer to whom I was--I was a spoiled brat playing independent alchemist to escape the pressures of his otherwise comfortable life. The longer I split my time between the two, the more fake both seemed until I would eventually be left with neither. I needed to choose. It was not a hard decision. Okay, it’s ready. It is a paste I will need to apply to your scales. Lie still as I do so. Transmutation of the draconic body had always been something I’d dabbled in, mainly those that offered fun but otherwise temporary changes but, what I was now attempting was a little more ambitious. It took over three years of careful research and experimentation. I consulted with other alchemists in the city and corresponded remotely with those who lived beyond. I pored through every relevant book I could get my claws on. It was a long process, one hampered by the familial duties I carried out in tandem during this period. But, eventually, I finally perfected my concoction. All that was left was for me to take the plunge. Standing at the edge of my cauldron I would be lying if I said I hadn’t hesitated a little. But, in my heart, I knew that this was what I wanted. After a moment, I slid in, immersing myself fully into the liquid. In that cauldron, everything that I had been born into but had never truly been melted away and from the reduced slime, I emerged, reborn as the dragon I had instead become. Gone were the soft, eggshell scales and feathers and their lofty legacy I did nothing to earn. My new form was born from my work, my passion: a bogsneak, a breed born from the cauldron of one of the great master alchemists, with scales infused with the colors of my own marbled brews. Freed from an appearance that would have forever tied me to my prestigious family, I discarded my old name, taking on fully the one I had used at my shop. But, now, it was no longer a façade put on by a nobleman’s brat, but who I was—who I am. Getting used to a completely new body and bearing colors much louder than my original took time, I will admit. At least while out in public, I had always been accustomed to turning heads on the street. But, where before, the smile I gave to lingering stares had been a defense against judgment, the one I give now is one of pride. My colors, bright and garish they may be, are of my choosing and are mine alone. And my work is finished. You can get up now. There is a mirror over there.
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I do think this is my best work yet. I see that nervous smile on your face. Such a bold new change can be exhilarating and frightening in equal parts, but, for as long as it lasts, wear it proudly for it was your choice and yours alone and no one can take that from you. Anyway, it is lovely. Really. The blues look great against the neutral off-white of your scales. Thank you… for visiting. If you need a touchup or want to try something different, please do visit again. I would—
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…! Do I…? Yes… Kastor. Mayri. You. You three were the ones I was most sorry to leave in my old life and are the ones who still occupy my thoughts from time to time. But, I had come to an agreement with Mother and Father. A clean break from that life was what I wanted, and what I would get. As far as anyone else knows, Alliver Astorius has been married off to a distant, small noble family on the other side of the territory, safely away from his own family’s recovering reputation, not that most truly care. But, I am glad you found me once more. I do mean it when I say you should visit again. I have spoken more than my fair share here today and you have done nothing but listen. Next time, I wish to hear all that you have to say.
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