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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
8.54 m
Wingspan
6.92 m
Weight
976.12 kg
Genetics
Silver
Jaguar
Jaguar
Flaxen
Eel
Eel
Blush
Soap
Soap
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
what i've learned: senet is the ultimate yapper
also shares otis' colors! no wonder he's so connected to him lmao
what i've learned two: FINISH THE ENTIRE STORY THROUGH AND THROUGH BEFORE WRITING AAAAAAAAAANYTHING AUGH ive redone this so many times but. i do not want to go through all his yapping just to add more. it gets confusing with so much text... god. stormcatcher help us all
senet was born a very happy, proud child. he knew who he was born under and held that banner high. he honed a sense of duty and respect, polished his moral compass and kindess, and practiced his arcane magic well. he especially honed his arcane magic, as a surplus of it happened to find his egg, leaving him with higher magical content than his siblings.
the glow of the white flower fields, sparkling and tinted with arcanic energy as senet practiced display spells, was beautiful.
and it was not to last. senet jolted awake, high-strung and in a cold sweat. he had a seen a horrible, horrible vision, yet he could just barely not grasp it in his memory...
that is when the leeching began. day by day, his magical reserves began to dwindle, leaving him confused and afraid. the visions were coming closer, now, as if dark, dark claws were wrapping around him and his spells. the magic he casted was dull, now, and left him tired and feeling weak.
worst of all, even after he'd quit casting major spells entirely, he could still feel the dread of those around him. everything that came from him had something wrong with it, and even if they never even knew of it, they could feel it.
something was horribly wrong, and he had no idea why. noone knew why or what was happening to him other than that his magic was being siphoned - and that could easily become deadly.
such a prideful, valiant son had now spiraled into a unnerving recluse. he spent his days researching endlessly, just about living in the libraries otis and venus owned. he had an aura of determination, shaky and worried, underlined with that wrongness like a hidden river flowing beneath. he was still himself, but that footing was being lost, and his siblings felt it.
such a tense air, with his dwindling time, made great fuel for arguments.
"and you're going to spend your days living in fear, reading the same books over and over until you're dead?!"
senet turned away. "so you admit that you have no hope in me, then--"
"there was no hope! there isn't a cure for your condition out there! and yet you're going to sit here, rotting away, reading books... i hope you realize how futile all of this is," they spat as they left.
and the next day, senet was gone, leaving a single note behind:
"i will venture across sornieth until i find the cure."
he packs up and makes the journey across the scarred wasteland. he took many shortcuts to get there, with his knowledge from the plague studies he'd read and well. limited time to live. not to mention, he wanted to get home as fast as he could, too.
specifically, he's headed for the tangled wood. he felt the same connection otis did, especially after he'd become secluded, and decided to take his chances.
he makes it to the border! after a period of rest, he excitedly makes his way through the brambles, determined to get in. finally, he steps out into the darkness, his eyes adjusting...
...a creepy imperial is towering over him. staring directly at him, smiling in the dark. great
well, as coatls do, he politely greets her. and she's polite back! votive does warn him of the misfortune surrounding her, but senet brushes it off and chooses to adventure with her. it's the best shot he's got, after all, and they both seem like similar dragons.
and similar they are! votive explains her backstory (13th heiress, misfortune follows her everywhere, it leads to her ruin as a fallen heiress) and senet is like. "oh! we're both outcasted royals!" being an outcasted prince and princess. here their friendship begins. o7
they learn more about where the other is going: senet, to shadow's hub of activity, and votive, nowhere. votive decides to lead him to the murkbarrow close, both for fun and to see what will really happen to him.
as her fortune has it, the journey is hard and slow. so slow, in fact, that senet begins to change to reflect his surroundings. he gets a new outfit, develops new skills and talks differently, and even gets a halfmask for himself as a gift from votive.
side note that, to avoid otis' fate, senet refuses to join or stay at any clans. he's a nomad! either way, though, other dragons seem to avoid him. is it his graying plumage, perhaps? no, they look afraid, as if dread emanates from him. wait, from him? not just his magic..? uh oh.
his body is beginning to succumb, too. his clawtips are becoming... an inky black. and his eyes - he looks lifeless, he realizes, as he looks upon himself in the mirror they'd traded for. it's getting worse. he has to go forward, or...
he ventures on, and in true otis fashion, realizes what's happened to him all this time. his old self is almost gone. he's not like his family members anymore - he's barely an arcane dragon, having taken up the customs of shadow and the appearance of... the dying. he's not a prince, he's a traveler, only with votive. and his friendship with her, he's grown so used to it. now, when he leaves, he has to deal with that loss, too.
an entire new life he has to abandon. funny how he abandoned one life, went to the next, and has to abandon that as well. is that the price he has to pay here? is that his fate, if it exists?
I stopped in my tracks. How much has my journey changed me? I remembered the white rose gardens, swaying in the sunlight, surrounded by elegant pillars. It seems so distant, now...
"Senet? What bothers you?" she inquired, reaching for the bandages she now always had ready. "If your wounds are aching, then..."
"...No, it's not that... Votive, how long have I been here?" I looked up at her, anxious.
She smiled. "Enough to cause you fear. Then why are you afraid? Have you not withstood everything my misfortune offered you? Say, what do you think is coming for you, Senet?"
I looked downward. "My family. My past. You know why I'm here, don't you?"
"To receive what will restore you," she responded, not skipping a beat.
"And when I get that... I'll have to return home. I'll have to see them all again, my own family... I'll have to leave.. I'll have to destroy everything I have in this place! And yet I was never supposed to have this at all! This was just supposed to be... to be a detour, a small journey... to find what I wanted. And now... I've become so used to it, that... it's all that I know."
he suddenly stops in his path and tells votive his plight. she laughs.
"oh, how sad it is. in time, everyone who follows me leaves eventually. you are no different." she looked into the distance. "it is the right choice, after all."
"i don't know if it's the right choice to leave you so alone."
[TBA :P]
"i told you - everyone who chooses to stay is going to drown in this misery."
after a troubled talk about that, votive leads senet to the murkbarrow close. they finally made it. perhaps senet will figure out a way to send votive magic messages or letters once he gets what he wants... the two wander into the bustling crowd--
wait. votive didn't follow him.
suddenly, it comes back to him - his father's story.
I asked a group of Nocturnes for directions to a clan in need of a new member...
Only later on I'd understand that the tricksters had rejected me. My little tricks were no match for them. And they had perceived me as a threat. The children of the Shadowbinder had punished me with the thorny daggers their deity had well suited them with.
after all, she'd said the two of them had become a wandering clan of their own - and so, that must mean... he can be rejected from it.
she betrayed him. of course- of course she did! of course she would!
Possessor's library looks as you'd expect when you first enter - polished, warm woods; elegant golden decor; and books of just about any subject one wishes. All well-organized, of course, by yours-and-familiars truly.
But take more than a leisurely stroll down these aisles, and you may find the wooden floors beneath you changing; the bookshelves endlessly extending with titles you've never heard before; the atmosphere turning more and more fey-like - more sinister - in its nature.
The wood and gold have lost their color, turning black and silver. The lights shine in dreamy greens, blues, and purples from strings and fairy lights. Books shift and shiver without explanation. All the while, the feeling of something watching you emanates throughout the library.
Amidst this scene is a standout, yellow and pink Coatl in pastels, sorting a stack of books with Arcane magic. He flutters his wings, rustling the flame of a nearby aromatic candle, and looks at you.
"Ah, you've arrived. Welcome."
Lives: Possessor's lair - Senet is the librarian of the lair, living in and maintaining the library.
Personality: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam eu elementum felis. Duis elementum arcu ac aliquam ultrices. Etiam non elit a libero laoreet accumsan vehicula vitae quam. Quisque ornare vitae magna sollicitudin ultricies. Mauris iaculis nisi eget dolor hendrerit, eu dapibus sem elementum. Ut facilisis turpis vitae erat condimentum vehicula. Duis sit amet elit a felis dictum cursus.
Familiars:
the misery <- trying to get the backstory together lmao
-leave arcane (magic dwindling, pressure of being born under his father (maybe?), and natural pull towards shadow)
-go through plague, to shadow
-the dread of being in this story and knowing where its going. hopefully. you can only hope theres a good ending like last time
-meet votive
-votive probably screws him over (natural circumstance by being well miss misfortune OR purposeful betrayal by votive for like coping mechanism reasons), causing him to be like necromanced in exchanged for magical power (super cold scales in comparison to otis' heat resistance/hot scales(? are they?) is cool to me. i love callbacks and foils <3)
-back in plague, taken in and given to possessor by hex
-thats it. just like that its over. he doesnt go back to arcane or shadow. hes just left to grapple with his decisions and who to side with, who to forget?, what to do now.
Knowing the tale of my father, it seemed easy to see what a mistake venturing into the Tangled Wood could be. He was very well unaccepted there, and my chances were similarly low... But, just as he had, I always felt more connected to Shadow than I did Arcane.
In fact, I seemed unwanted by Arcane energy itself. The magical spark I had as a hatchling faded away as I grew up. Of course, that could just be attributed to something in my egg, but it only worsened as time went on. My spells, and ability to cast magic at all, were growing more and more unstable. Try as I might, I felt my connection to the Arcane flight waning - not just magically, but personally.
The spells weren't of interest anymore. The archives felt daunting, like a long, looming shadow. Combat was now a terrifying prospect. Afraid of the path this all was taking me down, I ventured out to the Starwood Strand. I looked into it for an answer...
...and the beauty I once saw in it, like a covered mirror, didn't reach me. Instead, I found something else: a love for its darkness.
I found myself receding.
I was drawn to things I'd never once considered - the black of the sky, the clustered nature of the wildlife - how easy it was to hide unseen in those leaves... and, of course, darkness itself. I started reading into Shadow magic with my time, keeping the lights dim and my body comfortably hidden.
But that just couldn't solve the problem. Trying to find a place in the Shadow flight was surely a mistake, but my own place in Arcane was gone. It's last straw snapped when my magic failed to hold even a simple glass. The glow flickered and faded, sending shards across my floor, and myself in utter shock... then fury. Rage, embarrassment, confusion...
I couldn't stand Arcane any longer. In spite of all warnings and cautionary tales... I had to leave.
...I didn't know what else to do.
Senet wasted no time venturing the Scarred Wasteland, only taking care to avoid the hunting packs and waves of disease that swept the lands. He followed a less-common path, relying on the magic he had learned and what little reserves of it he had. He hadn't even used it to heal his wounds - only bandages and treatments.
The Grove's brambles were well-met as a sense of belonging bloomed in him, but he wondered: Is this the right way?
He could still turn back home. He could return and make peace with his flight - his dwindling magical reserves...
At that reminder, he steeled himself. No. Not when his own magic rejected him. Not when... when...
...when he could make his father proud. When he could still prove himself.
I was running head-first into a tragedy straight out of a book. The same footsteps of my father's story.
~~~
...but my paradise couldn't last forever. As the days went on, I noticed something: my Arcane energies seemed to be depleting. Maybe I had overworked myself, I thought; simple rest would fix this right up; this chapter would be over as soon as it began.
It did not.
In fact, my magic only began to dwindle further, day by day. I relied on it so heavily for all that I did that to see it wither away was horrifying. My ability to cast magic at all was growing increasingly unstable, and even with the help of my family... No remedy was working.
Perhaps in the stress of it all, I felt my very connection to the Arcane flight begin to die.
Spellbooks only brought me anger; they showed me everything I couldn't do. Sorting archives became boring, tedious tasks, full of books I never liked to read anymore. My magic could barely defend me in combat. As I grew further, I simply came to accept this: life grows harder, much harder, and you do to match.
Do you think that was the right choice, dear reader? ...That's only a rhetorical question. Neither of us will truly know, but it's the path I chose to take.
Now, a second question: what do you do when the choice isn't yours?
It would seem easy, then, to see what a mistake venturing into the Tangled Wood could be. He was very well unaccepted there, and my chances were similarly low... But just as he had, I always felt more connected to Shadow than I did Arcane.
With a dwindling supply of magic, a fierce sense to prove myself, and the many tales of success I read of going through my mind... I chose to leave. I took my first steps out of the Arcanist's domain.
Well, choice isn't exactly the right word, is it? After all, what else was I supposed to do?
...Nonetheless, I wasted no time venturing the Scarred Wasteland, only taking care to avoid the hunting packs and waves of disease that swept the lands. I followed a less-common path, relying on the magic I had learned and what little reserves of it I had. I hadn't even used it to heal my wounds - only bandages and medicine.
I stood at the border, starry-eyed and full of energy. I wasn't even sure of how I kept on for so long. Was fate itself pushing me forward? Was this just a burst of manic energy? Either way, I gladly began untangling the brambles before myself, thanking my gilded scales for the protection against their thorns.
On the other side, shrouded in shadows, I felt a sense of shaky relief wash over me. For once, it felt as if nothing, nothing at all, was pulling a single string on my body. Not his family, nor his journey, nor his sense of pride... Is this freedom?
My eyes adjusted to the dim blue lights around me. Then did I barely see it: two eyes, far above me, like the tops of towers. My sense of caution was struck back into me.
"...Hello," she began.
...Dear reader, wouldn't you do anything to escape it, too?
To make your family proud of you again; to make the journey you've been dragged into worth it; to get back everything you lost?
...And if you truly had no choice at all, would you still pretend?
"...I can bear it."
She laughed, almost as if she were in pain. "I welcome you to try!"
I smiled, both interested in the challenge and happy she understood me. "Then I'll try to the fullest extent. I have a reason for being here, after all... and maybe you could help me. ...Could you?"
"Could I? Maybe," she said, clearly amused. It seemed like a simple game to her.
"Then you can call me Senet."
Our journey began. All I was looking for was a way to get my magic back. In an attempt to avoid my father's tragedy, I chose not to stay with any clans, forever wandering with Votive. She, too, had no clan; she was once "the 13th Heiress," but a string of misfortunes led her to disparity.
She looked the part as well, with ripped robes, bandages and scarves, and a hood that shadowed her half-mask. What stood out the most, though, were the blood-red shards on her wings' edges, and the incense that donned her shoulders, glowing red at its spikes' tips. She was outcasted by fate, she told me.
As was I. We both realized we had more in common than we thought. Sharing our stories as we traveled... we formed a friendship. A prince and a princess, both forced from their kingdoms... She showed me the ways of the Tangled Grove, and I told her the stories from my home. We headed for the Murkbarrow Close - the height of Shadow's activity.
And she said, misfortunes did befall us as we went. Brambles and rocks seemed pulled toward us, intent on causing us harm. Other dragons, try as I might, wound up avoiding us. And "clumsiness" was a daily occurrence, especially for me... but as we went, I adapted. I donned new clothing and gained new skills. In fact, Votive gave me my own half-mask to obscure my Arcane eyes.
Our path became long and winding, and as I went down it, my mind wandered.
How much longer until I see my family? I did this all for them, and after so long... it seems nothing has truly changed. Nothing but my personality, which has shifted for the worse, becoming closed off and full of despondence with this world... becoming nearly a Shadow dragon myself. Am I anything like my family anymore?
And If I were to ever leave here... could I bear it? Could I bear to leave this life behind... or to leave Votive behind?
I stopped in my tracks. How much has my journey changed me? I remembered the white rose gardens, swaying in the sunlight, surrounded by elegant pillars. It seemed so distant, now.
"Senet? What bothers you?" she inquired, reaching for the bandages she now always had ready. "If your wounds are aching, then..."
"...No, it's not that. ...Votive, how long have I been here?" I looked up at her, fear showing through my mask.
She smiled. "Enough to cause you fear. Now, why are you afraid? Have you not withstood everything my misfortune offered you? What do you think comes for you, Senet?"
I looked downward. "My family. My past. You know why I'm here, don't you?"
"To receive what will fix you," she responded, not skipping a beat.
"And when I get that... I'll have to return home. I'll have to see them all again, my own family... I'll have to leave.. I'll have to destroy everything I have in this place! And yet I was never supposed to have this at all! This was just supposed to be... to be a detour, a small journey... to find what I wanted. And now... I've become so used to it, that... it's all that I know."
She stayed silent, pondering what I said. When I finally looked back at her in uncertainty, she spoke again. "And who's to say they're your family any longer?"
"Wh-- I did everything for them! Votive, all I'm here for is to make my father proud of me! To get what I lost back, all my magic, all for them!"
"And yet you're a Shadow dragon of your own, now."
"But joining a Shadow clan will only bring me misery," I argued, "for that's exactly what befell my father. I can't. I can't do that! I can't stay here, but I can't leave, Votive, you--"
"Senet." She stopped me, placing a hand on my shoulder. A smile grew on her face, the same one she gave me at our first meeting. "You and me are a clan of our own.
Don't you remember what I told you? Those who stay with me will only become miserable," she repeated, slowly.
I stared at her at first, realizing. Then, I looked away as a well of emotions sprung up in me. No matter what I did... I was destined to be miserable. I had to face this loss, to endure this misery... because I chose to stay with Votive. Because of my own choices... or, no, was it all fate..?
Was this all my doing, or had I deluded myself into believing it was?
"I don't know what to do," I finally, quietly admitted.
"There's no need to know; you aren't doing anything." Knowing Votive, I knew exactly what she was saying. Fate is all that guides us. I sat and stared at the ground for a long while, registering everything in my mind.
"The great pine is close," she informed me. I wordlessly began following her again, whether her words were true or just something to get me walking again.
The two made their way forward, through the now-familiar, obscured pathways. Through brambles, traps, forests, and voids where no light could reach.
By now, Senet only wanted this to end. Half of him wanted to stay in this darkness, while the other wanted to return to his family. To truly make them proud, once he can get his magic back after everything he's been through.
He'd spent his days shrouded in his new identity. A new outfit, new skills, a new life without anything Arcane. He'd long grown used to being recognized as a Shadow dragon with the mask that covered his eyes, and with no Arcane abilities to prove otherwise.
And now, the time to leave that, too, was rapidly approaching. He could almost feel his family calling him home. Night by night, he began to dream of them - yet in the waking world was the only life he knew.
He was split between two evils. To forever leave Votive, or to forever leave his family.
The one time he was given a choice, right in front of his eyes, he froze, unable to take either path.
Dear reader. This is a hopeless venture.
I'd since shaken off my hopelessness, steeling myself to go forward with this. "Here we are, then."
I stepped inside, greeted by a few dragons who recognized me from my journey. I was in awe of being known here, both a good and a bad feeling. I looked around, then noticed something: Votive hadn't followed me in.
"Ah, Votive?" Was she lost in the crowds? Perhaps she was in one of the tunnels nestled between these shacks? Now used to seeing in the dark, I scanned my surroundings...
Why were the others retreating? I looked directly backward, towards the entrance... and sheer, utter dread coursed through me.
Her smile was triumphant, but even in my horror, I saw the pain. "Poor, deluded dragon."
That was the last thing I heard before all went black. I slipped into a deep, dark abyss... and awoke, only remembering the words, "Maybe I'll give you what you want."
I still don't know how Votive managed her feat, or how she restored my magic.. or if it even was her. I just know... I didn't heed her warning, from the first up until the last.
As I aimlessly wandered Sornieth, faded and lost, I had found another Coatl. He held his wings of gold highly, proclaiming to be my savior.
"...Then where do you come from? Surely, you have a place to go back to, don't you?"
His smile only grew sharper at the look of scared recognition in my eyes. He laughed, as if he was joking, and led me into the library, saying "I was just perfect for it."
And I've stayed here ever since... deliberating my circumstances. I'm still not sure what to do, but... Surely... I'll figure it out in time.
He pauses and looks back at you one last time, completely solemn.
...This golden labyrinth isn't going to hold me forever. At least... I dearly hope so.
also shares otis' colors! no wonder he's so connected to him lmao
what i've learned two: FINISH THE ENTIRE STORY THROUGH AND THROUGH BEFORE WRITING AAAAAAAAAANYTHING AUGH ive redone this so many times but. i do not want to go through all his yapping just to add more. it gets confusing with so much text... god. stormcatcher help us all
senet was born a very happy, proud child. he knew who he was born under and held that banner high. he honed a sense of duty and respect, polished his moral compass and kindess, and practiced his arcane magic well. he especially honed his arcane magic, as a surplus of it happened to find his egg, leaving him with higher magical content than his siblings.
the glow of the white flower fields, sparkling and tinted with arcanic energy as senet practiced display spells, was beautiful.
and it was not to last. senet jolted awake, high-strung and in a cold sweat. he had a seen a horrible, horrible vision, yet he could just barely not grasp it in his memory...
that is when the leeching began. day by day, his magical reserves began to dwindle, leaving him confused and afraid. the visions were coming closer, now, as if dark, dark claws were wrapping around him and his spells. the magic he casted was dull, now, and left him tired and feeling weak.
worst of all, even after he'd quit casting major spells entirely, he could still feel the dread of those around him. everything that came from him had something wrong with it, and even if they never even knew of it, they could feel it.
something was horribly wrong, and he had no idea why. noone knew why or what was happening to him other than that his magic was being siphoned - and that could easily become deadly.
such a prideful, valiant son had now spiraled into a unnerving recluse. he spent his days researching endlessly, just about living in the libraries otis and venus owned. he had an aura of determination, shaky and worried, underlined with that wrongness like a hidden river flowing beneath. he was still himself, but that footing was being lost, and his siblings felt it.
such a tense air, with his dwindling time, made great fuel for arguments.
"and you're going to spend your days living in fear, reading the same books over and over until you're dead?!"
senet turned away. "so you admit that you have no hope in me, then--"
"there was no hope! there isn't a cure for your condition out there! and yet you're going to sit here, rotting away, reading books... i hope you realize how futile all of this is," they spat as they left.
and the next day, senet was gone, leaving a single note behind:
"i will venture across sornieth until i find the cure."
he packs up and makes the journey across the scarred wasteland. he took many shortcuts to get there, with his knowledge from the plague studies he'd read and well. limited time to live. not to mention, he wanted to get home as fast as he could, too.
specifically, he's headed for the tangled wood. he felt the same connection otis did, especially after he'd become secluded, and decided to take his chances.
he makes it to the border! after a period of rest, he excitedly makes his way through the brambles, determined to get in. finally, he steps out into the darkness, his eyes adjusting...
...a creepy imperial is towering over him. staring directly at him, smiling in the dark. great
well, as coatls do, he politely greets her. and she's polite back! votive does warn him of the misfortune surrounding her, but senet brushes it off and chooses to adventure with her. it's the best shot he's got, after all, and they both seem like similar dragons.
and similar they are! votive explains her backstory (13th heiress, misfortune follows her everywhere, it leads to her ruin as a fallen heiress) and senet is like. "oh! we're both outcasted royals!" being an outcasted prince and princess. here their friendship begins. o7
they learn more about where the other is going: senet, to shadow's hub of activity, and votive, nowhere. votive decides to lead him to the murkbarrow close, both for fun and to see what will really happen to him.
as her fortune has it, the journey is hard and slow. so slow, in fact, that senet begins to change to reflect his surroundings. he gets a new outfit, develops new skills and talks differently, and even gets a halfmask for himself as a gift from votive.
side note that, to avoid otis' fate, senet refuses to join or stay at any clans. he's a nomad! either way, though, other dragons seem to avoid him. is it his graying plumage, perhaps? no, they look afraid, as if dread emanates from him. wait, from him? not just his magic..? uh oh.
his body is beginning to succumb, too. his clawtips are becoming... an inky black. and his eyes - he looks lifeless, he realizes, as he looks upon himself in the mirror they'd traded for. it's getting worse. he has to go forward, or...
he ventures on, and in true otis fashion, realizes what's happened to him all this time. his old self is almost gone. he's not like his family members anymore - he's barely an arcane dragon, having taken up the customs of shadow and the appearance of... the dying. he's not a prince, he's a traveler, only with votive. and his friendship with her, he's grown so used to it. now, when he leaves, he has to deal with that loss, too.
an entire new life he has to abandon. funny how he abandoned one life, went to the next, and has to abandon that as well. is that the price he has to pay here? is that his fate, if it exists?
I stopped in my tracks. How much has my journey changed me? I remembered the white rose gardens, swaying in the sunlight, surrounded by elegant pillars. It seems so distant, now...
"Senet? What bothers you?" she inquired, reaching for the bandages she now always had ready. "If your wounds are aching, then..."
"...No, it's not that... Votive, how long have I been here?" I looked up at her, anxious.
She smiled. "Enough to cause you fear. Then why are you afraid? Have you not withstood everything my misfortune offered you? Say, what do you think is coming for you, Senet?"
I looked downward. "My family. My past. You know why I'm here, don't you?"
"To receive what will restore you," she responded, not skipping a beat.
"And when I get that... I'll have to return home. I'll have to see them all again, my own family... I'll have to leave.. I'll have to destroy everything I have in this place! And yet I was never supposed to have this at all! This was just supposed to be... to be a detour, a small journey... to find what I wanted. And now... I've become so used to it, that... it's all that I know."
he suddenly stops in his path and tells votive his plight. she laughs.
"oh, how sad it is. in time, everyone who follows me leaves eventually. you are no different." she looked into the distance. "it is the right choice, after all."
"i don't know if it's the right choice to leave you so alone."
[TBA :P]
"i told you - everyone who chooses to stay is going to drown in this misery."
after a troubled talk about that, votive leads senet to the murkbarrow close. they finally made it. perhaps senet will figure out a way to send votive magic messages or letters once he gets what he wants... the two wander into the bustling crowd--
wait. votive didn't follow him.
suddenly, it comes back to him - his father's story.
I asked a group of Nocturnes for directions to a clan in need of a new member...
Only later on I'd understand that the tricksters had rejected me. My little tricks were no match for them. And they had perceived me as a threat. The children of the Shadowbinder had punished me with the thorny daggers their deity had well suited them with.
after all, she'd said the two of them had become a wandering clan of their own - and so, that must mean... he can be rejected from it.
she betrayed him. of course- of course she did! of course she would!
Possessor's library looks as you'd expect when you first enter - polished, warm woods; elegant golden decor; and books of just about any subject one wishes. All well-organized, of course, by yours-and-familiars truly.
But take more than a leisurely stroll down these aisles, and you may find the wooden floors beneath you changing; the bookshelves endlessly extending with titles you've never heard before; the atmosphere turning more and more fey-like - more sinister - in its nature.
The wood and gold have lost their color, turning black and silver. The lights shine in dreamy greens, blues, and purples from strings and fairy lights. Books shift and shiver without explanation. All the while, the feeling of something watching you emanates throughout the library.
Amidst this scene is a standout, yellow and pink Coatl in pastels, sorting a stack of books with Arcane magic. He flutters his wings, rustling the flame of a nearby aromatic candle, and looks at you.
"Ah, you've arrived. Welcome."
Senet
He/him
The Spellbound | The Archivist
"You best be returning those books on time."
"You best be returning those books on time."
Lives: Possessor's lair - Senet is the librarian of the lair, living in and maintaining the library.
 
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Affiliations: Possessor, Stitches Likes: X Dislikes: X |
Personality: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam eu elementum felis. Duis elementum arcu ac aliquam ultrices. Etiam non elit a libero laoreet accumsan vehicula vitae quam. Quisque ornare vitae magna sollicitudin ultricies. Mauris iaculis nisi eget dolor hendrerit, eu dapibus sem elementum. Ut facilisis turpis vitae erat condimentum vehicula. Duis sit amet elit a felis dictum cursus.
Familiars:
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Tales of Mischief 3/10/24 - Current Some of the books that managed to "run" out of their shelves. Stitches is usually the one who chases them down rather than Senet, but sometimes he'll capture them himself with his magic. |
Backstory:
   
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"I had always felt closer to Shadow than I did to Arcane. So I decided to seek fortune at the Tangled Woods. Little did I know about the things that were to happen to me, though. Life can be quite unpredictable." |
the misery <- trying to get the backstory together lmao
-leave arcane (magic dwindling, pressure of being born under his father (maybe?), and natural pull towards shadow)
-go through plague, to shadow
-the dread of being in this story and knowing where its going. hopefully. you can only hope theres a good ending like last time
-meet votive
-votive probably screws him over (natural circumstance by being well miss misfortune OR purposeful betrayal by votive for like coping mechanism reasons), causing him to be like necromanced in exchanged for magical power (super cold scales in comparison to otis' heat resistance/hot scales(? are they?) is cool to me. i love callbacks and foils <3)
-back in plague, taken in and given to possessor by hex
-thats it. just like that its over. he doesnt go back to arcane or shadow. hes just left to grapple with his decisions and who to side with, who to forget?, what to do now.
Knowing the tale of my father, it seemed easy to see what a mistake venturing into the Tangled Wood could be. He was very well unaccepted there, and my chances were similarly low... But, just as he had, I always felt more connected to Shadow than I did Arcane.
In fact, I seemed unwanted by Arcane energy itself. The magical spark I had as a hatchling faded away as I grew up. Of course, that could just be attributed to something in my egg, but it only worsened as time went on. My spells, and ability to cast magic at all, were growing more and more unstable. Try as I might, I felt my connection to the Arcane flight waning - not just magically, but personally.
The spells weren't of interest anymore. The archives felt daunting, like a long, looming shadow. Combat was now a terrifying prospect. Afraid of the path this all was taking me down, I ventured out to the Starwood Strand. I looked into it for an answer...
...and the beauty I once saw in it, like a covered mirror, didn't reach me. Instead, I found something else: a love for its darkness.
I found myself receding.
I was drawn to things I'd never once considered - the black of the sky, the clustered nature of the wildlife - how easy it was to hide unseen in those leaves... and, of course, darkness itself. I started reading into Shadow magic with my time, keeping the lights dim and my body comfortably hidden.
But that just couldn't solve the problem. Trying to find a place in the Shadow flight was surely a mistake, but my own place in Arcane was gone. It's last straw snapped when my magic failed to hold even a simple glass. The glow flickered and faded, sending shards across my floor, and myself in utter shock... then fury. Rage, embarrassment, confusion...
I couldn't stand Arcane any longer. In spite of all warnings and cautionary tales... I had to leave.
...I didn't know what else to do.
Senet wasted no time venturing the Scarred Wasteland, only taking care to avoid the hunting packs and waves of disease that swept the lands. He followed a less-common path, relying on the magic he had learned and what little reserves of it he had. He hadn't even used it to heal his wounds - only bandages and treatments.
The Grove's brambles were well-met as a sense of belonging bloomed in him, but he wondered: Is this the right way?
He could still turn back home. He could return and make peace with his flight - his dwindling magical reserves...
At that reminder, he steeled himself. No. Not when his own magic rejected him. Not when... when...
...when he could make his father proud. When he could still prove himself.
I was running head-first into a tragedy straight out of a book. The same footsteps of my father's story.
~~~
Ithaca | Iliad
Being born under the Count was quite a high honor to me. Ever since I was a hatchling, I had a burning sense of pride. I took it upon myself to be the best - the highest moral values, the greatest sense of respect and duty... and a beautiful sense of Arcane magic. For a while, it worked out well. I was efficient and dutiful, and especially loved to spend my time in the flower gardens, reading......but my paradise couldn't last forever. As the days went on, I noticed something: my Arcane energies seemed to be depleting. Maybe I had overworked myself, I thought; simple rest would fix this right up; this chapter would be over as soon as it began.
It did not.
In fact, my magic only began to dwindle further, day by day. I relied on it so heavily for all that I did that to see it wither away was horrifying. My ability to cast magic at all was growing increasingly unstable, and even with the help of my family... No remedy was working.
Perhaps in the stress of it all, I felt my very connection to the Arcane flight begin to die.
Spellbooks only brought me anger; they showed me everything I couldn't do. Sorting archives became boring, tedious tasks, full of books I never liked to read anymore. My magic could barely defend me in combat. As I grew further, I simply came to accept this: life grows harder, much harder, and you do to match.
Do you think that was the right choice, dear reader? ...That's only a rhetorical question. Neither of us will truly know, but it's the path I chose to take.
Now, a second question: what do you do when the choice isn't yours?
Odyssey
I had always loved storytelling. Whether it be through books or with words, even as a hatchling, I adored stories. And so, I knew my father's tale well.It would seem easy, then, to see what a mistake venturing into the Tangled Wood could be. He was very well unaccepted there, and my chances were similarly low... But just as he had, I always felt more connected to Shadow than I did Arcane.
With a dwindling supply of magic, a fierce sense to prove myself, and the many tales of success I read of going through my mind... I chose to leave. I took my first steps out of the Arcanist's domain.
Well, choice isn't exactly the right word, is it? After all, what else was I supposed to do?
...Nonetheless, I wasted no time venturing the Scarred Wasteland, only taking care to avoid the hunting packs and waves of disease that swept the lands. I followed a less-common path, relying on the magic I had learned and what little reserves of it I had. I hadn't even used it to heal my wounds - only bandages and medicine.
I stood at the border, starry-eyed and full of energy. I wasn't even sure of how I kept on for so long. Was fate itself pushing me forward? Was this just a burst of manic energy? Either way, I gladly began untangling the brambles before myself, thanking my gilded scales for the protection against their thorns.
On the other side, shrouded in shadows, I felt a sense of shaky relief wash over me. For once, it felt as if nothing, nothing at all, was pulling a single string on my body. Not his family, nor his journey, nor his sense of pride... Is this freedom?
My eyes adjusted to the dim blue lights around me. Then did I barely see it: two eyes, far above me, like the tops of towers. My sense of caution was struck back into me.
"...Hello," she began.
...Dear reader, wouldn't you do anything to escape it, too?
To make your family proud of you again; to make the journey you've been dragged into worth it; to get back everything you lost?
...And if you truly had no choice at all, would you still pretend?
Ogygia
She called herself Votive, right before warning me. "You will find nothing of value here," she said, "as I am forever plagued by endless misfortune... You, small one, will only be caught in its wake.""...I can bear it."
She laughed, almost as if she were in pain. "I welcome you to try!"
I smiled, both interested in the challenge and happy she understood me. "Then I'll try to the fullest extent. I have a reason for being here, after all... and maybe you could help me. ...Could you?"
"Could I? Maybe," she said, clearly amused. It seemed like a simple game to her.
"Then you can call me Senet."
Our journey began. All I was looking for was a way to get my magic back. In an attempt to avoid my father's tragedy, I chose not to stay with any clans, forever wandering with Votive. She, too, had no clan; she was once "the 13th Heiress," but a string of misfortunes led her to disparity.
She looked the part as well, with ripped robes, bandages and scarves, and a hood that shadowed her half-mask. What stood out the most, though, were the blood-red shards on her wings' edges, and the incense that donned her shoulders, glowing red at its spikes' tips. She was outcasted by fate, she told me.
As was I. We both realized we had more in common than we thought. Sharing our stories as we traveled... we formed a friendship. A prince and a princess, both forced from their kingdoms... She showed me the ways of the Tangled Grove, and I told her the stories from my home. We headed for the Murkbarrow Close - the height of Shadow's activity.
And she said, misfortunes did befall us as we went. Brambles and rocks seemed pulled toward us, intent on causing us harm. Other dragons, try as I might, wound up avoiding us. And "clumsiness" was a daily occurrence, especially for me... but as we went, I adapted. I donned new clothing and gained new skills. In fact, Votive gave me my own half-mask to obscure my Arcane eyes.
Our path became long and winding, and as I went down it, my mind wandered.
How much longer until I see my family? I did this all for them, and after so long... it seems nothing has truly changed. Nothing but my personality, which has shifted for the worse, becoming closed off and full of despondence with this world... becoming nearly a Shadow dragon myself. Am I anything like my family anymore?
And If I were to ever leave here... could I bear it? Could I bear to leave this life behind... or to leave Votive behind?
I stopped in my tracks. How much has my journey changed me? I remembered the white rose gardens, swaying in the sunlight, surrounded by elegant pillars. It seemed so distant, now.
"Senet? What bothers you?" she inquired, reaching for the bandages she now always had ready. "If your wounds are aching, then..."
"...No, it's not that. ...Votive, how long have I been here?" I looked up at her, fear showing through my mask.
She smiled. "Enough to cause you fear. Now, why are you afraid? Have you not withstood everything my misfortune offered you? What do you think comes for you, Senet?"
I looked downward. "My family. My past. You know why I'm here, don't you?"
"To receive what will fix you," she responded, not skipping a beat.
"And when I get that... I'll have to return home. I'll have to see them all again, my own family... I'll have to leave.. I'll have to destroy everything I have in this place! And yet I was never supposed to have this at all! This was just supposed to be... to be a detour, a small journey... to find what I wanted. And now... I've become so used to it, that... it's all that I know."
She stayed silent, pondering what I said. When I finally looked back at her in uncertainty, she spoke again. "And who's to say they're your family any longer?"
"Wh-- I did everything for them! Votive, all I'm here for is to make my father proud of me! To get what I lost back, all my magic, all for them!"
"And yet you're a Shadow dragon of your own, now."
"But joining a Shadow clan will only bring me misery," I argued, "for that's exactly what befell my father. I can't. I can't do that! I can't stay here, but I can't leave, Votive, you--"
"Senet." She stopped me, placing a hand on my shoulder. A smile grew on her face, the same one she gave me at our first meeting. "You and me are a clan of our own.
Don't you remember what I told you? Those who stay with me will only become miserable," she repeated, slowly.
I stared at her at first, realizing. Then, I looked away as a well of emotions sprung up in me. No matter what I did... I was destined to be miserable. I had to face this loss, to endure this misery... because I chose to stay with Votive. Because of my own choices... or, no, was it all fate..?
Was this all my doing, or had I deluded myself into believing it was?
"I don't know what to do," I finally, quietly admitted.
"There's no need to know; you aren't doing anything." Knowing Votive, I knew exactly what she was saying. Fate is all that guides us. I sat and stared at the ground for a long while, registering everything in my mind.
"The great pine is close," she informed me. I wordlessly began following her again, whether her words were true or just something to get me walking again.
The two made their way forward, through the now-familiar, obscured pathways. Through brambles, traps, forests, and voids where no light could reach.
By now, Senet only wanted this to end. Half of him wanted to stay in this darkness, while the other wanted to return to his family. To truly make them proud, once he can get his magic back after everything he's been through.
He'd spent his days shrouded in his new identity. A new outfit, new skills, a new life without anything Arcane. He'd long grown used to being recognized as a Shadow dragon with the mask that covered his eyes, and with no Arcane abilities to prove otherwise.
And now, the time to leave that, too, was rapidly approaching. He could almost feel his family calling him home. Night by night, he began to dream of them - yet in the waking world was the only life he knew.
He was split between two evils. To forever leave Votive, or to forever leave his family.
The one time he was given a choice, right in front of his eyes, he froze, unable to take either path.
Dear reader. This is a hopeless venture.
Otis
"It ends here," Votive informed me, at the steps of the Murkbarrow Close. Thousands of eyes glowed in the dark, with the silhouettes and shadows of dragons constantly shifting in the dense, packed city. It was busy tonight, much more so than usual.I'd since shaken off my hopelessness, steeling myself to go forward with this. "Here we are, then."
I stepped inside, greeted by a few dragons who recognized me from my journey. I was in awe of being known here, both a good and a bad feeling. I looked around, then noticed something: Votive hadn't followed me in.
"Ah, Votive?" Was she lost in the crowds? Perhaps she was in one of the tunnels nestled between these shacks? Now used to seeing in the dark, I scanned my surroundings...
Why were the others retreating? I looked directly backward, towards the entrance... and sheer, utter dread coursed through me.
Her smile was triumphant, but even in my horror, I saw the pain. "Poor, deluded dragon."
That was the last thing I heard before all went black. I slipped into a deep, dark abyss... and awoke, only remembering the words, "Maybe I'll give you what you want."
I still don't know how Votive managed her feat, or how she restored my magic.. or if it even was her. I just know... I didn't heed her warning, from the first up until the last.
As I aimlessly wandered Sornieth, faded and lost, I had found another Coatl. He held his wings of gold highly, proclaiming to be my savior.
"...Then where do you come from? Surely, you have a place to go back to, don't you?"
His smile only grew sharper at the look of scared recognition in my eyes. He laughed, as if he was joking, and led me into the library, saying "I was just perfect for it."
And I've stayed here ever since... deliberating my circumstances. I'm still not sure what to do, but... Surely... I'll figure it out in time.
He pauses and looks back at you one last time, completely solemn.
...This golden labyrinth isn't going to hold me forever. At least... I dearly hope so.
Relationships:
 Name Status Description   
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Senet to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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