Castor
(#91507573)
he/him
Biter
Maned Rasa
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.96 m
Wingspan
4.88 m
Weight
473.4 kg
Genetics
Smoke
Falcon
Falcon
Umber
Paint
Paint
Saffron
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
 Castor Reserved | Learned | Overprotective The Head Librarian |
About
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.”We may sit in our library, and yet be in all quarters of the earth.”
Relations
Vertumnus, Aeolus, & Ouros - top bookkeepersBarney, Whistle, Peridot, Silas, & Elysium - wizard coworkers Pollux - brother(?)   
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Lore
Dangerous, isn't it? The capability to ingest life into art; the power to entrap anything in a tome. When one may hear something such as these, they first believe that it's fantastic, thinking of all the fruitfully boons it may offer. Never once do they doubt themselves; never do they wonder if it's truly the wonderous tool they want it to be.
We've been given just a curse.
My name is Castor. I'm one of the librarians who tend to the shelves of books and parchments, keeping everything perfectly organised. I was given the ability to seal creatures and living things inside the pages of my papers, and at first, I had been eager. I knew they gave great weight on one's shoulders who beheld the "gift" and I was more than ready for it to be bestowed upon my own, to keep watch of it and utilize it whenever I must; With power, thus with responsibility.
My brother, my own blood, was given what I had mentioned earlier; the skill to weave life into his paints. How he enjoyed such a frivolous capacity, crafting worlds of wonder, just with a flick of his brush. He was sporadic, yes, and I enjoyed his lively energy for it so.
However, I felt as though he became a bit too ambitious; he delighted in his success, but it began to get out of hand, becoming more and more uncontrollable. He acted as though he had not a care in the world, continuously scribbling, painting, inking his passions onto his canvases. I was getting worried, and went to speak with him, hoping he'd simmer down his explosive friskiness.
"Brother, I must say, the paintings you've livened up recently have become a bit… dangerous lately. Is there any reasoning in particular why?"
He merely chuckled. "Castor, it's but the whims of my mind that express my thoughts. I create when I must spill forth my emotions and feelings, and recently, those are what hath come."
Always poetic, he was. "Perhaps you should slow yourself down a bit then. All the violence sounds like you're a bit stressed-"
"Stressed? Bah! I don't believe so! I've never felt more alive than now!"
That was that. He resumed his latest piece without another word, leaving me to my silence. Over the past couple days, I had reattempted to coerce him to pause his work, but… he began to ignore me, and felt annoyed the further I pushed. I was worried of him; I wanted to speak to him, if he was going through something, or if he simply felt sad. My care for him apparently didn't matter.
I… I tried to keep calm… I really did…
"…That's enough Castor! You've pestered me far too many times! Why so insistent?! Why must you keep asking?!"
"I-I just felt worried for you; your pieces are becoming more violent and-"
"It's because I keep thinking of you! All you do is bother, bother, bother; why not leave me to my work?!"
I hadn't any words. "I… I care about you, and it seems like-"
"It seems like to me that you are merely jealous of my work! You're trying to distract me long enough so I can't finish!"
I can still remember those chilling words he bequeathed to me as a threat:
"You listen, Castor. I'm not afraid to use my abilities anywhere, unlike you. Keep bothering me, and we'll see what happens to nuisances who think they're better than me!"
I'm so sorry…
I was upset at him. I was offended; I was just concerned about him. I never meant to come so clingy around him, nor did I mean to sound so tenacious to ask. I just wanted to know if he was alright.
I…I was afraid… that he'd keep to his word… and I wouldn't last very long after the fight…
I hear the thumps in the lonesome book. It jumps with violence and vengeance; it vibrates powerfully, with a yearn to release the contained. I constantly wonder to myself if it was truly the better choice. I was safe, and his monstrosities were controlled again. But, he was my brother, my own blood. There could've been a better way to negotiate.
There were better ways than to trap him in my tome.
- written by Gubyub! -
Dangerous, isn't it? The capability to ingest life into art; the power to entrap anything in a tome. When one may hear something such as these, they first believe that it's fantastic, thinking of all the fruitfully boons it may offer. Never once do they doubt themselves; never do they wonder if it's truly the wonderous tool they want it to be.
We've been given just a curse.
My name is Castor. I'm one of the librarians who tend to the shelves of books and parchments, keeping everything perfectly organised. I was given the ability to seal creatures and living things inside the pages of my papers, and at first, I had been eager. I knew they gave great weight on one's shoulders who beheld the "gift" and I was more than ready for it to be bestowed upon my own, to keep watch of it and utilize it whenever I must; With power, thus with responsibility.
My brother, my own blood, was given what I had mentioned earlier; the skill to weave life into his paints. How he enjoyed such a frivolous capacity, crafting worlds of wonder, just with a flick of his brush. He was sporadic, yes, and I enjoyed his lively energy for it so.
However, I felt as though he became a bit too ambitious; he delighted in his success, but it began to get out of hand, becoming more and more uncontrollable. He acted as though he had not a care in the world, continuously scribbling, painting, inking his passions onto his canvases. I was getting worried, and went to speak with him, hoping he'd simmer down his explosive friskiness.
"Brother, I must say, the paintings you've livened up recently have become a bit… dangerous lately. Is there any reasoning in particular why?"
He merely chuckled. "Castor, it's but the whims of my mind that express my thoughts. I create when I must spill forth my emotions and feelings, and recently, those are what hath come."
Always poetic, he was. "Perhaps you should slow yourself down a bit then. All the violence sounds like you're a bit stressed-"
"Stressed? Bah! I don't believe so! I've never felt more alive than now!"
That was that. He resumed his latest piece without another word, leaving me to my silence. Over the past couple days, I had reattempted to coerce him to pause his work, but… he began to ignore me, and felt annoyed the further I pushed. I was worried of him; I wanted to speak to him, if he was going through something, or if he simply felt sad. My care for him apparently didn't matter.
I… I tried to keep calm… I really did…
"…That's enough Castor! You've pestered me far too many times! Why so insistent?! Why must you keep asking?!"
"I-I just felt worried for you; your pieces are becoming more violent and-"
"It's because I keep thinking of you! All you do is bother, bother, bother; why not leave me to my work?!"
I hadn't any words. "I… I care about you, and it seems like-"
"It seems like to me that you are merely jealous of my work! You're trying to distract me long enough so I can't finish!"
I can still remember those chilling words he bequeathed to me as a threat:
"You listen, Castor. I'm not afraid to use my abilities anywhere, unlike you. Keep bothering me, and we'll see what happens to nuisances who think they're better than me!"
I'm so sorry…
I was upset at him. I was offended; I was just concerned about him. I never meant to come so clingy around him, nor did I mean to sound so tenacious to ask. I just wanted to know if he was alright.
I…I was afraid… that he'd keep to his word… and I wouldn't last very long after the fight…
I hear the thumps in the lonesome book. It jumps with violence and vengeance; it vibrates powerfully, with a yearn to release the contained. I constantly wonder to myself if it was truly the better choice. I was safe, and his monstrosities were controlled again. But, he was my brother, my own blood. There could've been a better way to negotiate.
There were better ways than to trap him in my tome.
- written by Gubyub! -
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Exalting Castor to the service of the Icewarden 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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