Algernon
(#90427930)
Feathers for Algernon (he/him)
Familiar
Armored Colony
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Auraboa
This dragon is benefiting from the effects of eternal youth.
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.21 m
Wingspan
1.67 m
Weight
93.13 kg
Genetics
White
Varnish (Auraboa)
Varnish (Auraboa)
White
Lacquer (Auraboa)
Lacquer (Auraboa)
White
Batty (Auraboa)
Batty (Auraboa)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Auraboa
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
5
DEF
7
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
9
MND
7
Biography
Algernon
he/him
poem by LavenderHoney
Ah, Algernon the rat, with his pink feet so dainty,
Locked up in a cell, his situation quite weighty.
A wannabe chef, but behind bars he's stuck,
Yet his culinary prowess would leave you awestruck!
With beady eyes like rubies, and a fur coat so fine,
He whips up gourmet dishes, like a mini mastermind.
Though his circumstances may be less than ideal,
His cooking skills shine, a meal that's so unreal!
So here's to Algernon, the chef behind bars,
His cuisine is top-notch, fit for kings and czars.
Though he's trapped in his cell, his spirit's unbroken,
In the realm of gastronomy, he's a true token!
Locked up in a cell, his situation quite weighty.
A wannabe chef, but behind bars he's stuck,
Yet his culinary prowess would leave you awestruck!
With beady eyes like rubies, and a fur coat so fine,
He whips up gourmet dishes, like a mini mastermind.
Though his circumstances may be less than ideal,
His cooking skills shine, a meal that's so unreal!
So here's to Algernon, the chef behind bars,
His cuisine is top-notch, fit for kings and czars.
Though he's trapped in his cell, his spirit's unbroken,
In the realm of gastronomy, he's a true token!
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Late at night, when the sounds of doctors and dragons were absent from the gray hallways of the facility, Algernon liked to dream of his restaurant. Every good chef has a restaurant; Gavilar, his neighbor, had informed him so when he’d first told her of his dream. Every good chef has a restaurant, on a brightly lit city street with a great cloth awning over it. He still doesn’t know what he’ll call his restaurant, but when he decides on a name Algernon’ll display it in shining lights above that awning. You see, Algernon wants to be a chef when he grows up. He practices all the time. There are always scraps, lying around; the researchers throw food at the dragons in cells, never coming close enough for Algernon or the others to reach them. Everything gets mingled up and easy to access on the ground, and Algernon makes the best of it. For a while he’d thought this was normal, until one of his neighbors had told him dragons usually don’t eat on the floor, but on tables. Algernon wouldn’t know; he’s been at the facility all his life - or, at least, as long as he can remember. Algernon never knew his mother and father. He knows he must have had them, but his earliest memory is of the facility, its steel cages, gray walls, and cold floors. The only dragons he’s used to are the apathetic doctors and researchers in their white coats, and his neighbors, of course! (But sometimes they were not so fun to talk to, after they’d been helped out of their cage by the doctors. They came back tired and gray and much more prone to crying than talking with Algernon). He cooks for his neighbors, when he can. He’s always trying to come up with new recipes, a la carte. Algernon prides himself on being unique and professional. He always ignores it when his dishes have flies on them, or tries to play it off as being part of the meal. Most of his neighbors wouldn’t complain, anyhow. Algernon, if nothing else, is optimistic. He’s optimistic about his restaurant, about his future as a chef, and, really, his future in general. He’s gotten sick a few times… and each of those times it’s taken him a long time to get better. But he doesn’t mind all too much, because when he’s sick his neighbors make sure to compliment his food more! And that’s what Algernon cares about most, of course. A good chef prepares good food, and all Algernon wants to be is a good chef (by slipfast). |
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Algernon was plagued with a tired ache in his body that sometimes came along on a bad night. That, however, did not stop him from his task. With his face pressed to the bars, he reached one small arm out and attempted to hook a scrap of food that had fallen out of reach when the staff passed by with trays of meals. His meal had yet to come but something tasty-looking had plummeted to the floor nearby. His arms weren't long enough and his tail wasn't precise enough to do anything but bat it further away. Discouraged, he let out a long sigh, slumping fully to the ground with his chin resting on the cold stone. He stared longingly at the morsel, mouth watering. He was always hungrier when he didn't feel well. "Need help?" He lifted his gaze at the voice and swirling purple eyes stared back at him from the cage across the hall. It was Olive, his good friend and the most cheerful neighbor around. The feathers around her neck fluttered and she offered a wide grin. Algernon nodded, his own eyes going wide as she shifted around and slipped her tail through the bars. With a flick of the long appendage, she sent the scrap of food spinning right into Algernon's cage. Excitedly, the little chef snatched it right up, lifting it in his paws and trying to discern just what it was. "Thank you Olive, I believe I can make something delicious out of this." He declared with confidence now that he'd found out that it was meat. Quickly he turned away from the bars, retreating into the back where he'd managed to hide some more ingredients behind a loose stone in his cell. It had somehow gotten kicked in between the bars by passing feet and considering it's wide, flat, state, Algernon used it to obscure his findings. It was just a few bits from past meals, a little torn off piece of bread, an herb leaf, things of that nature. Now, with a morsel of meat, he had the fixings of a delicacy! After a short moment of assembly, he turned to present his creation to Olive. The pieces were artfully stacked, ready to create the most scrumptious bite a dragon had ever experienced in their lives. "I did it, this is my most complex meal to date." He declared. It was even dripping with some sort of mystery 'sauce' though where it came from nobody could be sure but Algernon. But it didn't matter, it smelled delicious and his mouth watered. "Fascinating!" Olive agreed, pressing her face to the bars of her cage to get a better look. Proud, Algernon coiled up and settled to take his first bite. Just as he opened his mouth, he heard a quiet squeaking and soft noises coming from the front of his cell. He glanced past his meal to find he had another kind of audience. Rats, small white rats with vivid red eyes not unlike his own. They were skinny, skeletal almost. The little creatures stared curiously at the food he'd made. Slowly, hesitantly, Algernon offered the meal to them, reaching through the bars with it flat in his palm and lowering it so they could reach. He cringed as they hurriedly disassembled it, each one taking a hand-crafted layer for themselves and utterly ruining the flavor profile of it all. Still, he couldn't help but to smile a bit as they nibbled their scraps. He watched them eat, trying not to be too disappointed that his delicacy had been enjoyed by such little scavengers. written by Azabelle |
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elemental dividers by mibella
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LilacStar wrote on 2024-02-11 05:04:11:
Algernon is an adorable lil guy. But don't judge a book by its cover. Algernon is so cute, he'll sneak into anyone's clan or lair and steal ALL of their food. He's currently the most wanted criminal in all of Sornieth. He has been caught twice but he claims to have no idea what the authorities are talking about. But he does….
In fact, last night, Algernon went into the kitchen and started cooking with moldy food from the last Clan he was a part of. Then, he served it to everyone in his new clan.
When everyone was barfing, he took the chance to steal the last piece of ratatouille!
In fact, last night, Algernon went into the kitchen and started cooking with moldy food from the last Clan he was a part of. Then, he served it to everyone in his new clan.
When everyone was barfing, he took the chance to steal the last piece of ratatouille!
Are's insult wrote on 2023-12-03 11:23:20:
@Warbreaker
He probably goes in trash cans and rummages up any little food bits he can find, then cooks them and sells the food to his friends. He plays it off as fine cuisine, even when it has flies on it.
He probably goes in trash cans and rummages up any little food bits he can find, then cooks them and sells the food to his friends. He plays it off as fine cuisine, even when it has flies on it.
LonesomeFish wrote on 2024-02-01 22:51:07:
@Warbreaker
Looks like a little angel but is actually a mischievous rascal. Always gets away with trouble because they make the cutest puppy dog eyes.
Looks like a little angel but is actually a mischievous rascal. Always gets away with trouble because they make the cutest puppy dog eyes.
Here's his bat counterpart!
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Algernon 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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