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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
19.92 m
Wingspan
20.9 m
Weight
7551.81 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Sky
Shimmer
Shimmer
Ivory
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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❝Song lyrics.❞
Title, Artist 
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TITLE
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 He was terrifying in the way all legends were: distant, beautiful, and perfect. His very blood shone gold and deepest blue, twined with fate by nature. Yet, he seemed obstinate in his refusal to acknowledge his own strange nature. He was content to study alone, unbothered by the faint glow of the ethereal petals that seemed to constantly swirl about him, allowing his eyes to never fail him as he read scroll after scroll, consuming knowledge at his leisure. He did not care for the outer world except what he could read, preferring his fountains and gardens to any experiences outside his sanctum. He would consume astronomy, chemistry, bard’s tale, all alike to his vast tastes. Yet he would never see fit to look truly at the sky, to mix his own potions and tonics, nor learn to pick at the lute. His sense of adventure failed him in that. Rather, he delayed all adventure in favor of reading of it in the safety of his private haven. He would curl around piles of scrolls, hour after hour, sunlight fading into candlelight, even at such a slow pace as the fae realm existed at, he was still slower to know. He wished to be prepared, or so he would murmur with disinterest should some witless dragon ask him. He wished to be alone, and to know all, to remain perfectly happy in his distant tower as he became ever more well-read. The court may whisper of his absence, yet his kingdom was far too peaceful to garner his attention, not when he could spend less than an hour addressing in a monotone every issue his servants and guards and ambassadors would bring him. He had long since learned the solution from his historical texts. His own private guard knew him well, and was entrusted to become alike to his visage when absolutely demanded. The prince knew illusory magic too, and it had served him far better than he had even imagined, had he ever learned to truly imagine. His mind was too valuable to waste upon fantasy, so it was he became legend. He knew all, so they whispered in awe. He could remember well enough, he would chuckle in private to his guard. Mamoru said nothing, as he had been tasked. The fae prince turned once again to his studies and knew, no, remembered more than before. |
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❝Song lyrics.❞
Title, Artist
❝Song lyrics.❞
Title, Artist
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G E N E R A L
P L O T
Art by crossnyc.
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