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Summary:

Tempest is a young Arctic Oceanic Drake from a dying breed that’s been poached into near extinction for their ability to manipulate water. Since being liberated from the New Zealand royal navy’s control, he’s been roaming the seas alone for several years in hopes of seeking out other dragonkin.

Personality:

For the most part, he's a jovial type of being, lazy, and an idiot at times, rarely takes anything seriously. 

Abilities:

 

- Aquamancy -

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Tempest possesses an advanced form of water manipulation, being able to create tsunamis, summon hurricanes at will, conjure up storms, whirlpools, or shoot beams of pressurized water at either an enemy or prey. His skills even allow him to influence the water molecules in a person’s blood to a degree. For fast travel across the seas, he can manipulate the surrounding water to propel himself at unimaginable speeds below or above the surface.

- Ice Magic -

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Another unique trait his kind carries. This includes being able to cool his surroundings, freeze a selection of water, create hardened ice spikes that can be turned into projectiles, and cause a devastating hailstorm by freezing a small portion of the heavens. A common defense move used by him is creating thick ice walls.

 


Weather Manipulation - Like the rest of his kin, he can conjure up devastating storms and hurricanes. This allows him to flood entire towns and cities if given enough time. While weather control can be one of his most powerful abilities, it often burns out most of his magic depending on the scale it’s being done on.

Lightning Redirection - Exactly what it sounds like. Knowing basic Atomkinesis has enabled him to draw electrons from the atmosphere until they can be charged enough to create a brief bolt and be projected where he wishes. If not done correctly, Tempest can risk frying himself in the process or anyone around him. This rare attack move doesn’t change the fact he’s vulnerable to electricity naturally. This can only be used if a severe thunderstorm is present.

Weapons:

Poseidon’s Trident - A legendary item given to him by the God of the seas himself. This allows Tempest to use more special forms of water manipulation and can be used as a melee weapon while in human form. In addition, the Trident can break any Ocean bound curse or be used to alter the sea level.

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Appearance:

Tempest is roughly ninety-one feet in length from head to tail. Reflective azure scales cover most of his hulking form, with a golden underbelly and varying turquoise flippers. Three horns can be found bent back across his head almost like a trident, along with emerald serpentine irises, and webbed ears. While he lacks a pair of wings, two large fins remain on his back to keep him level in water. Gold spinal fins run down along his armored back and stop near the end of the tail.

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Long ago sea drake populations used to range in the hundreds per pod, arguably one of the ultimate apex predators with the exception of Leviathan. There were many different variations of them, from their unholy deep-sea cousins to freshwater species, tropic breeds, and many others throughout the globe. While their winged counterparts inland were being wiped out, their numbers in the wild remained unchanged for some time.

With the industrial age came the ultimate decline. As mankind's technology became more advanced, so did their weapons, and that enabled them to finally combat the aquatic dragons effectively despite their docile temperament. But this was not the root cause for their elimination: Pollution of the seas claimed more of their lives than humanity's crusade over could. As a direct result, most became biologically vulnerable and died of illness. All that contamination wiped out many of their pods. Tempest is one of the few survivors of this.

Prior to being forcibly separated from his mother, the juvenile of a drake was captured and had undergone training to serve the Navy for a new program they created. Though defiant at first, they managed to tame him when a woman named Diadena Hernandez was assigned to him as his handler. She succeeded in getting him to corporate and went on a number of missions with her Draconic partner. The two became emotionally attached after a period of time.

Once the news had spread of a decision to dissect him came about, Diadena removed his tracker and turned him loose. From there, he fled from the Naval base before migrating hundreds of miles away.

It was only later until the young Dovah heard a song coming from the shoreline. Something about that melody had drawn him towards it in ways that could not be described, other than an uncontrollable urge to confront it and be with whoever was singing it. The one responsible was what appeared to be a young brunette woman, who was too shocked to flee at the sight of him. In his seemingly delusional state, Tempest showered her with affection in the form of licks, nuzzles, and even attempting to hold her. As if knowing he'd be in danger just for staying out there in the open, she chose to travel and run off with him.

Whether his love for her became willing or was a long-term side effect of her sings, the two became an inseparable pair who got in and out of trouble together.

He was a Sea Dragon, she was a Siren, and neither one had a place to call home.

Together they became an unlikely duo, like two fugitives who had no one but each other to rely on.

As they carried on together, the two became increasingly frustrated with the size difference between them, it almost became a sort of barrier. To compensate for this, he drained the Siren's blood and replaced it with his own, which held some magical properties that could convert another into one of his kind. As a result, Clarion instead became a sea serpent. It was through him that she learned how to hunt prey with her new lifestyle. Them migrating together became a daily routine.

. . .

Sometime prior to meeting a man who forged an adopted family of monsters, something terrible happened that forced their group to disband. In the midst of all that chaos, Tempest and his mate Clarion were unable to locate each other quickly enough and fled separately. Just like last time, he was required to travel alone for a second time.

Hopefully for the last.

 As for his whereabouts, Tempest is currently on an endless migration, whether it be in search of Clarion, the family, or to seek something else. With no one left to turn to, he conceals himself from any boats or ships that would draw attention to himself. He'll frequently roam in shallow waters, and is known to occasionally take on human form to explore any populated coasts thanks to a special transformation powder.

 

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Alternative Muses:

Answerer:

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One of Tempest's surviving siblings, who was captured by Onyx Corp, had his memories wiped, received heavy augments for combat, and trained to be paired with a handler/rider. Like all augmented water drakes, Answerer mostly lacks a personality and only knows how to follow orders due to the brainwashing inflicted by his captors. He has a difficult time when it comes to independent thought.

Now without a rider, the modified brute actively seeks out another in hopes of being given a purpose again, unable to contemplate the idea of choosing his own path or going against what his mind was programmed to do. Anyone with a resemblance to his prior handler, even just personality-wise, is likely to be approached. It's not uncommon for someone to react negatively before Answer either retaliates or continues on.

When interacting with others, one of three things are likely to happen: Either assisting them, eliminating the one in question, or simply ignore said individual. Avoid falling into the wrong category unless he can be subdued.

Trua:

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Being a former prince from a long-lost empire, Trua is a hybrid between an Eastern dragon and a European sea drake, able to wield both water and air-manipulation-based magic. This has enabled him to take to the skies, in addition to being amphibious.

Despite the incredible feats he's capable of, he is unusually small for a Dragon, being only twenty feet long from head to tail. The former royalty suffers from amnesia, unable to remember his past. To make matters worse, he often experiences back problems due to the disproportionate amount of weight on his spine from his body structure, also mute from an injury he received to his vocal cords.

It's common for him to hide his walking disability from others, which affects him even in human form, often choosing to sit in a wheelchair when possible, or swim in water while in his true appearance to reveal the strain on his bad spine. Others may find out from him hurting himself by accident or abruptly stopping during a lengthy walk.

To communicate with others since he's mute, Trua will either use sign language, or physically write words into soil or paper if someone doesn't know it.

 

Mel:

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Being a biological uncle to and the same species as Tempest, Mel is an ancient sea drake who is also Trua's father, in addition to being the former leader of his now long lost pod. Said beast is very well composed due to being literally thousands of years old, he is both the oldest, largest, and most wise member of his kind, often being a father-like figure to those around who befriended him.

Having vast experience in combat, he is a prodigy with water-manipulation magic. It is said that wherever Mel is present, a great tropical storm will follow, and that his aquamancy is so advanced, that he can separate the hydrogen from oxygen, and ionize it to create a burning hot plasma, which can be fired in beams. Mel is also highly proficient in the use of cryomancy since ice is just water in a different form. Despite how devastating most of his ranged attacks can be, the big guy prefers getting up close and personal during a brawl. Very heavy explosives are needed to pierce his armored scales.

Due to his massive size, only large prey is sought after, often favoring large species of sharks (including Great Whites), walruses, and rays. One exception to this is sea lion pups, which he finds sweeter in terms of taste. Despite hunting all sorts of marine life, he does not prey on humans or two-legged beings.

Birthday:

July 7


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Character Gender

Male


Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para, Novella


Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Romance, Realistic, 18+, Gore, Action, Adventure


About the Writer (OOC)

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  • -proceeds to boop back the water draggo- Σ(゚□゚*川

     

     

  • Spencer watched with some care as Tempest backed his way out, trying to decipher ahead of time if he would be heading inside to snag a spell book to mend any damages. The drake did just fine, to which he was pleased enough to follow. Lenn came soon afterward, giving a noticeable duck of his head out the doorway from habit. The fresh air greeted them and Spencer ultimately chose their new gathering point.

    To the possible hostility between the two, the white-haired man paid no mind. He took no shock in Lenn’s tone and instead had his attention turned to Tempest on how he would respond. He watched on in silence, listening in to the introduction that was similar to the one he had received. Whether the drake was turned to see it or not, the man clad in black bowed his head respectfully in response. Puzzled by the mentioning of being an outsider, when his head had raised his arms would then cross in front of his chest.
    “You say outsider,” Lenn stated. “You may be no more outsider than any others that have walked here. Given time.” Was it reassurance? The man’s emerald eyes seemed thoughtful to some time distant in the past, but it was a common occurrence nonetheless. “We all find these grounds in our own way.”

     

     Lenn cast a glance toward Spencer almost irritably, then. Seeing the drake take a step back, he could only wonder just what the half-elf had told him. Spencer, in the meanwhile, was trying to hide a coy grin.

    “You did.” Lenn responded sternly.

    Silence took over as they both let Tempest think it over. Gears were turning, Spencer could see it with ease. Which gears- and just what would they be getting at? Finally, the question of their beings, and ultimately their origins, was proposed. While the white-haired man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, Lenn’s brow furrowed. The corner of his mouth twitched listlessly for a moment almost irritably to the topic before he glanced over to the other. Spencer was ahead of him, silver hues glancing back beckoning him to answer first with a half smile. A deep exhale left the man’s chest and begrudgingly, Lenn gave in.

    “I carry a strong demon heritage. I confine it to the best of my abilities, yet, some side effects are rather unavoidable.” The statement itself could have added another ten years onto his un-aged expression, somehow. It eased up the moment afterward, and he let the ghost of a smile show briefly. His eyes shifted to Spencer. “Well?”

    “I have no doubt I will come to show you, sooner rather than later.” Spencer replied, glancing toward Tempest with a smile he hoped would keep it at bay. A silent huff left Lenn’s chest that earned a casual warning glance from Spence, brow raised.

     Lenn’s eyes didn’t leave Tempest as he explained, on edge for the slightest hint of a lie to leave the dragon’s maw. Spencer had hopped up to take a seat on the top bar of the fence, in the meanwhile. The drake went uninterrupted throughout his retelling. The half-Elf had no complaints about it, and it seemed enough for the other Rider present. Lenn’s mouth curved to a frown when the story was turning more so into a warning. The government was brought in, and he seemed to put on a scowl to the concept. Humans were not kind souls to the likes of dragons to creatures alike. He knew this well enough.

    Something more intriguing was on the man’s mind, however. He looked to Tempest, and then to Spencer. “You found me here for another reason, yet. I saw footsteps. Perhaps a dozen sets. Hard to say. Now you and I both know those numbers have not been seen on this ground for decades.” Lenn stated in a grave tone of voice. “Walk with care.”

     

    Silver hues had taken on a look of surprise, eyes alight, staring at Lenn incredulously. Before he could speak, his head turned back to Tempest, lips pursing. “Subdue it… dare I say kill it… we will face it nonetheless. Perhaps it has been down below longer than any of us have walked on this ground. Spencer exhaled. A hand swept through his hair. “Perhaps it knows of our Empress, yet… she lies in rest. We dare not tamper with that unless our world truly starts to crumble.” To the last bit of his rambling, he was adamant. His eyes had fallen to the ground likewise as he thought. His chin raised suddenly when something came to mind.

    “Lenn… what of our Behemoth of an ally. Does he still rest? Quakes have subsided in these past few years.”

    “I believe so.”

    “Do you know where? Exactly?”

    “The Earth Nation. Follow the Western spine as far as it will take you.”

    “And you?”

    At the prompt, Lenn shifted his posture, hands digging into his pockets. His shoulders turned as if he were making his leave. “The waves touched close to the base of her mountain… and we have men walking the territory. I feel it best I stay here. You will hear from me if anything arises.”

    Spencer nodded. “So be it. Take care as well.”

    One look to Tempest and he ushered towards the house once more, gesturing to follow as he walked. This time a trip was taken around the back, a doorway taken leaving the drake outside. Not long after, a sizeable window was pulled open. The interior of the space- an addition onto the cottage building, was seemingly a workshop. Shelves were lined with goods of different varieties, a large wooden table above waist level in the center. Of course- books were stacked here and there on the surfaces. “We’ll leave just as soon as we can,” Spencer commented, passing by the window as he moved about in the workspace, coming and going without leaving view all too often. A map was pulled out of a drawer, a few smaller items that came in vials and jars. Seemingly other magical items and talismans where he was forced to remind to keep his bag light. Spencer disappeared through the doorway, back into the house. A few minutes later he returned a couple knives heavier, some simple provisions food-wise, for if need be. A set of clothing. Finally, a sword was sheathed, the strap pulled over a shoulder to keep it on his back. The handle and hilt were ornately decorated, almost Celtic in design. The hilt came to an end depicted as the snarling faces of dragons, silver in color and forged from steel.

  • The emerald hues of the man were set upon the drake rather intently, something unsettled about their gaze by nature- As was the aura that followed the man. If black were an energy, an aura, he had effectively shaken hands with it and become a closer friend than any had done so before. Perhaps in his forties, an unspoken, rather immortal amount of time had done well to the man, despite signs of tiredness permanently lingering under his eyes. His eyes had not flickered even for a moment toward Spencer, remaining heavily on the beast of a stranger.

    As Tempest spoke so close to his ear, the white-haired man resisted giving his head a shake to the sensation. The stranger of a man seemed to wait silently for an explanation. As Spencer formulated just what was to be said as an answer, the sea drake had spoken for the second time already. With a glance towards Tempest, and then to the other, he earned a nod from the stranger before he turned his shoulders back toward the door. “So be it, outside it is.” He then nodded to Tempest, waiting for movement before they would head out into the now cool evening air.

    One by one they headed out. Just as soon as the doorway was open, Spencer took the direction toward a wooden fence outside the doorway, several feet off from the house.

     

    “I go by Lenn. And your name?

    The stranger then spoke in a subtle, yet deep tone. A hint of an accent was hard to place, yet present upon his words… those words edged closer toward demanding rather than requesting, without touching either of the two.

     

    Spencer turned as he reached the desired fence, moving to lean back against it somewhere between the two.  “Lenn is the Rider of Skya… his family originated within Nightwing. A most excellent swordsman, and a most welcomed intruder…” Spencer added in where the man was seemingly reluctant, a slight smile of amusement to the last note. It earned a look of acceptance to the fact, rather than a smile from the other Rider. “Lenn, Tempest. He is a visitor… and under my care as such.”

     

    “I was traveling toward the den,” Lenn stated. “Lone behold, I find that any land to the east is within standing water.” A sharp, darting glance was cast toward Tempest, where it remained as he spoke calmly. “...I trust you both may know something of this.”

     

    [Short's alright for a portion like this, no worries]

  • Surprise or not, it wouldn’t have changed the expression he wore, watching the drake from the corner of his eye as he made the gesture. Perhaps, the only sign something was out of place. A pale complexion, white locks of hair, even his eyes. The other was right in regards to appearance, hardly yet was he something that could have been set apart from humankind. Not at first glance. “The diversity of this world is something truly remarkable. It would surprise me little to hear you say it.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when Tempest drew near. Oddly enough… did the man not have a scent? Even at such little distance, it seemed not. The forest around them seemed to overtake it with ease. When the air’s movement was felt near his ear, a brief laugh came from the man. Spencer pulled himself away, shaking his head.

    …It was then, with the said small shake of the head, something happened ever-so-briefly to the viewer’s eye. With a flick of his hair, for a moment, the tips of white locks lost their color to what was almost translucency. It came and passed within less than a second, leaving one to wonder if it had happened at all.

    Onward they walked. As he accounted for the dragoness brought into question, his eyes lingered forward for the time being. His thoughts lingered on it up until the strange sight above. His footsteps marched on yet, however. Familiarity with the territory served as momentum in doing so. A pensive stare was cast at the building as it appeared over the hill. The structure was almost cottage-like. Small, humble, yet it stood out as well tended to in comparison to the ruins in which they had passed through. Plants grew eagerly after the passing of winter, a variety dwelling midst the property that was essentially a needle in a haystack midst the territory. The architecture was something long-standing from the past, it seemed, with walls of white plaster and hand cut and carved beams constructing it. A chimney stationed near the back of the cottage was lively as a slow stream of smoke left its peak.

    “I have only a few ideas,” Spencer mumbled under his breath as the stone path up to the building was taken. He motioned for Tempest to follow. “Contrary to our meeting, it is uncommon for wanderers to make their way through Nightwing. Not this far… certainly few two-legged folk.”

    While the other did his own searching, he was left unbothered as Spencer took a quick route towards the front door. His eyes and ears were alert in likewise. Precaution came on the eve of one troublesome event that afternoon. Rarely did they come as just one. Listening as the other contemplated, he said little as he dwelled on a possibility or two of his own. By the time Tempest was in action? The Ex-Rider perked up, coming back to life- his mouth opened to speak, but the drake had already taken the lead. Surprisingly enough, he stepped aside. The knock on the door rang out, and all the man was left to do was watch in amusement.


    Spencer, in the end, let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair. His head shook subtly, wearing a bit of a smile throughout it as he turned his attention to the bag at his side. As the other kept his senses upon the door, he rifled through the bag for the right pocket. With a jingling sound to follow, Spencer cleared his throat as if to signal the dragon’s attention. A key ring was held on his finger, one of what looked like several grasped between pale fingers.

    “Pardon.” He instructed as he stepped forward again. The key was put into the door’s keyhole, the lock breaking free after a single turn. With one more glance to Tempest, the keys were shoved into a pocket. One hand moved to open the door, the second was held in front of him loosely. Slowly, little by little, he opened the door.

     

    The interior of the space was dark, yet a warm glow seemed to emanate from further into the house from the fireplace that was clearly lit. From what could be seen from the door if the drake were to poke his head in, it was quaint, comfortable. None too vintage, as everyday furniture sat in the living room as the first room visible down the short hallway. Bookshelves seemed to cover wherever space was available, filled to capacity. The living room as it was visible housed couch and a couple of comfortable leather chairs… one of which housed a figure who sat without alarm to the door’s unlocking.

     

    I had not thought to see you so early.

    Spencer called out into the house, taking just a few more steps in. A silence followed for a moment or so before it passed with the sound of movement. The figure, a man, rose from his seat. From the hallway, he stood at a height that seemed to reach to the ceiling, six inches taller than Spencer himself. A black coat was worn like a shadow, jet black hair adding to make what was a pale complexion. Slight hints of Japanese heritage were seemingly visible. Pensive, emerald eyes landed on Spencer as soon as he had turned around. They soon shifted to the creature behind him, calm, yet unsettled gaze placed upon Tempest even as the stranger spoke in a low, deep tone.

    “Nor had I. ”

  • The nature around them reminded her of a fonder time, her youth. A beach surrounded by a dense forest, the land edged by mountains. Water cascaded from the mountain peak, trickling through the forest, using the vast ocean as its basin. This water kept the surrounding land fertile and thus was the rejuvenating source of life for the entire island.

    Elves often made their territory in areas like this; covered, silent, peaceful. It was an area like this where Zoriko herself grew up, her first home before home.  The mountains had dark green patches running along its edge, even the peak covered in lush greenery. The landscape around them was green, nature blossoming, the climate was cool and humid, and with the breeze carried waves of gentle rustling leaves. The singsong chirps of nearby birds whose unique chants completed the atmospheric peace around them.

    Careful not to disturb the nature, her porcelain hands worked quickly, delicately plucking herbs, berries, and the like. The bow and quiver were slung over her shoulders, not engaged but ready to be. These fonder times she so loved, now haunted her. Strange senses of deja vu took over her instincts, as Zoriko found herself clearing shrubs and bushes, as if she knew the area, and expected to find what she did. It was as if she’d been there before.

    To distract herself from the uneasiness brought about by the forest, she submitted to the conversation. By coincidence, Tempest had mentioned Spencer and Raiya. Her brows raised slightly, and a smile adorned her lips, and with words that were slightly hushed, she began to explain her acquaintance with them.

    “Spencer is the rider of my mother’s blood brother, and thus like family to me. Right now, he is my mentor, and someone I hold dear. Raiya too is a good friend, she was the rider of Nightwing’s aristocracy, and very dear to Nightwing’s monarch and her hatchling. Raiya too lives in the city, so I pay her an occasional visit. I’ve known Raiya since childhood. Spencer, on the other hand, I knew everyone but him. My mother’s rider, Lenn, was the one who told me to seek him out, and so I did. I had run into Spencer as well, but not more than twice if I remember properly.”

    Her words were interrupted by a chuckle, before she continued, “When I left the sky kingdom, I landed in territory that looked exactly like this, and I was taken in by a very benevolent tribe of elves, a direct descendant of the Faen and Lythari High Elven tribes, but above all they gave someone like me refuge. When it came time to move on, and when Skya found me, I was grieving, dying, and I had fallen back to introversion and a deep depression, frankly unable to talk to anyone. That’s when she introduced me to everyone, these people became my family, and they are the reason I live today.”

    Every now and then, a glance was given in that direction, upwards to the mountain peak, how she longed to be there once more. Every glance upward brought a smile that became increasingly forlorn, and yet no words were uttered, no desires were spoken. Only a mission to be completed.  Memories of the mountains, and the villages, once haunted her, but today those very things gave her comfort, hope. For years she had not seen the sparkling hundreds she'd known as kin, but perhaps this was the only way. An incorrigible habit would cause her to gradually make her way up the alpine pass, but with each step, her heart weighed in on her, until she came within view of it. And then memories came flooding, each moment she spent with Zora, and the little things they did together. Zoriko dropped the basket she was holding, causing it to tip over on impact, some of its contents spilling out. Step by step, she inched closer to the rock formation in front of them, scratching away some moss to reveal something written in a foreign language, and some claw marks. Her heart dropped when she realized where they were. Raising her hands, she ran her fingers gently across the inscriptions, closing her eyes, as if she was paying her respects to it. She looked over at Tempest, and began to explain, her voice shaking, “This is the mark, a heavy rock I had placed here 300 years ago, Tempest. This is the grave of the elven village”. A bright light enveloped Zoriko, now, but it did not turn her into a dragon, but rather revealed tribal markings that traveled down her arms and legs.

    With her hand still touching the inscription, she slowly fell to her knees, looking downwards, in silence. And so she sat there in silence, for quite some time, until a voice interrupted her. A lower pitched female voice, singing quietly in a native tongue until she spotted Zoriko at which point she stopped, and an audible gasp could be heard.

    “Who is it that dares to wear those markings?” she asked, her tone sharp, and all too familiar.

    Slowly Zoriko rose to her feet, brushing off her pants as she did, and pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ears. The woman in front of them was of Zoriko’s height, she too had a slender physique. Her appearance was doll-like, with alight olive complexion, and long curly hair, rich like Chocolate and braided right at the crown of her head, tucked behind long ears that pointed upwards. On her forehead was a circlet headpiece, made of silver, with a single alexandrite, the design of which looked similar to the one Zoriko wore around her neck. The clothing she wore was traditional, a thin velvet coat lined with sheep fur. She stood in a battle stance, a bronze dagger in hand, tribal markings inscribed in the blade itself, similar to the one that Zoriko kept on her dresser, and markings that were nearly identical to the ones that appeared on her skin. 

    Markings could be seen on the woman as well, along her legs that weren't covered by the thick fabric, and on her chest. They looked identical to the ones covering Zoriko.

    Zoriko’s ruby hues widened, glowing like never seen before, the colour changing like a slow blink, from a deep blood colour to a vibrant vermillion, before settling into scarlet where they remained.

    “Zora…?” When the name was spoken, the pendant around her neck began glowing and emitting a familiar warmth, signaling something genuine.

    At the mention of that name, the woman tilted her head a little bit eyeing Zoriko from top to bottom before her eyes widened with realization as well. She’d recognized the markings immediately, but now recognized the person bearing them.

    “Those radiant eyes, and pearlescent hair, a complexion matching scales that once were, it truly is you, isn’t it Zoriko? You finally found a human form. Your beauty remains the same, as it did before” a smile formed to her lips, confirming that she indeed was Zora, and that she’d finally found her partner. She brought her hand to her mouth, and exhaled loudly, a sound made from the sheer astonishment of the situation held before them.

    She placed her dagger on the ground, and outstretched her arms, walking toward Zoriko, as if to embrace her, but Zoriko’s only response would be to step back, and to the side as if to avoid it. Her gaze remained on Zora, as if stuck in a trance, as her eyes slowly dampened. She walked backward, stepping towards Tempest, heavily breathing the entire way through, an occasional glance was thrown his way.

    Painful wounds reopened, But how could it be, that Zora was still alive? The rejection would cause Zora’s brows to furrow, disappointment taking her expression and her tone, as she asked the reason she couldn’t embrace the dragoness.

    Zoriko’s skepticism was for good reason, she wanted to believe so badly that this woman in front of her was indeed Zora, but it didn’t make sense. Three hundred years passed since her demise, and she herself had given her that pendant in her dying moments. Zora started, acknowledging that Zoriko must have many questions, but her words were halted when Zoriko brought her hand up, her palm facing Zora, signaling her to stop talking.

    “You died in my presence, in the clutches of my talons. And I buried your rotting flesh 300 years ago when I marked this village with this very tombstone. I inscribed this prayer onto this rock with my claws, breaking them as I wrote it” Tears threatened to fall now, and Zoriko’s face showed more guilt and frustration than happiness to see Zora again. "I could not bear to visit here after everything that has happened, the fire, the bandits."

    “You died in front of me, then how is it that you appear in front of me once more?”

  • An interesting question was asked, with regards to the identity of the armoured man. She too had plenty of questions for him, but she settled with the thought that if she was meant to know, she would find out.  These thoughts were conveyed to Tempest. But there was one thing she couldn't wrap her head around, and that was the shear absense of logic in the situation. Zoriko had made attempts to kill him not to long before he arrived to help them.

    Perhaps unless he somehow understood that her initial thoughts and intentions were of mercy.

    Once she had conveyed the task at hand, questions were raised showing confusion on his end for the task at hand. Keeping her gaze out toward the horizon, she spoke, her tone slightly quieter than normal, but for no apparant reason.

    "Hunting with a weapon on land is not different from hunting otherwise. You just have to find something and hunt it, but careful now, I'm giving you a physical weapon, this means you can't use extravagant magic tricks or summon your trident. We do not know what looms in the shadows here"

    With that, she got up, dusted the sand off herself and wandered off toward the outskirts of the forest for supplies.

    When she returned, ruby hues lay focused on the task at hand, multitasking with relative ease. Dainty fingers began working on the projects at hand, weaving, wrapping, and a tinge of magic as a secret ingredient. Littlec conversation was made to pass time spent crafting, though weaponry even with magic was not an instantaneous job. The delicate balance allowed the process to flow rather qucikly, the magic was focused into one hand, sharpening and bonding, while the maunal tasks came from the other, shaving the branches, and holding the items together. She noted that Tempest was watching her, and realizing that he probably did not have much experience with less durable weapons she began to warm him.

    "Know that the spear I am making is not of brass or metal like your trident but--"

     Her words of caution were interrupted by erratic behvaior over a tiny eight-legged creature. She watched as he stomped about erratically, creating small clouds of sand beneath his feet, and then began to shoot at it with streams of water. Zoriko rested her hands on her lap as she watched this rather vexatious scene unfold. Her brows furrowed, the left brow raised, her crimson hues giving him a burning glare as their glow began almost eminating from her eyes, irritated.

    If the creature he reacted for was a venomous snake, she could see past this however anything smaller was reason to berate him. As she noticed him calming down, she turned her gaze back toward her weapons and continued working, though her expression remained. When a sorry was shrugged off as nothing, Zoriko placed the weapons down, and posed a question, an icy tone in her voice:

    "So what happens if this commotion attracts a visitor we aren't prepared to fight yet?" and with those words she turned her head to him rather quicky, revealing the fiery glow in her eyes, and a deathly stare. Tempest was young, and thus this was a lecture he needed to hear. With each sentence she spoke, her tone got slightly louder each time, and an icy emphasis was places on certain words to convey the meaning better.

    "Humans do not travel alone, they aren't that foolish, you of all people should know what an army is capably of. A small spider, probably the size of my thumb nail crossed your back and this was the reaction? Perhaps if a human came now, we could pass you off as a tame beast, or one without magic, or perhaps instead of waiting for them to stumble upon us, you could just call their attention with violent jets of magic? We are about to head into a dense forest to hunt real animals now for food, and I'm not sure how capable of a hunter you would be for them, I rest assured though, that perhaps insects are what you would hunt instead. Do not forget Tempest, that wasting your magic can have devastating consequences."

    At this point, the dragoness would physically force herself to stop talking, fully aware of how harsh her words were. She turned back to her craft, thinking of fonder times to ease her time, finally relaxing when she remembered how her mother would chastise her when she was a child. She remembered feeling upset, but seeing how her mother wouldn't baby her to pacify her, made her stronger, and only fostered a deep appreciation for her in adulthood. Thus, she found no reason to apologize for her words, and simply continued working.

    Silence persisted the rest of the time she worked with was not long, spanning only about ten minutes, after which, brief conversation led to glamouring him. Tempest's usually clumsy transformation took place, which brought a slight smirk to her lips, one that would fade quickly when another question was asked. Before answering, she bent down, and placed one of her hand made baskets into the hand he had outstretched for her to take. 

    "This basket is for smaller things we can find, berries, herbs, and smaller animals. I plan to be out of here after our meal so we do not hunt the larger animals. To answer your questions, the risk of humans is among my sole reasons of constructing the weapons in the first place. Assuming none saw your theatrics, we should not be much of a concern to them. If perhaps questions are asked, I will do all the talking, just play along, reasonably. Also, the point I couldn't make earlier is that your weapon is quite dainty compared to a trident, especially yours. I suggest not using magic at all to not attract any attention. Since I used my magic on you to heal you, while you are in close proximity with me, my pedant has been consistently concealing your magic as well as mine, from the detection of hunters, and the supernatural.  If you have any more questions, ask on our way there, time is of the essence right now."

    And with that, she began to lead him into the forest, if he should follow. Her guard was up, her pendant was tucked away from sight, and any and all tribal markings on her skin were concealed by magic. Right at the border she picked some herbs, gently plucking the mint off its stem and purslane off the groung, careful not to destroy everything around it. Both were common herbs, mint would ad an amazing flavour, while purslane had a rich savory taste.

    The sunlight became sparse as they entered the forest, but they knew not of what lurked int the areas void of the sun's radiance.

  •  “Perhaps as simple as convincing the weather to stay in place.” Spencer uttered in agreement to the concept of talking to the beast. A wayward glance was cast to the other as the assumption, where Spencer put up little fuss in listening. “If so fortunate as to get close enough, we could speak. Yet… just as the flood waters need time to recede, we need to know what it is that we are approaching. To spend time is reassurance where we may have wished to have it otherwise.” His gaze fell forward as they walked, then. He needed the time to think, the time to check up on the history book and to see if a name would come about from it. Two beings had now washed up on the shores after what was a long, long absence.


    “I am all ears,” Spencer responded, his train of thought broken to the promise of a story coming, a glance returning to Tempest. He walked through the grounds they had found themselves in without a second glance. Every stone, every turn, they came as mechanical to him as walking did. And so, he listened. The scene was set to the water; little did it surprise him. A nod came to the mentioning of younglings, their customs of dwelling close. Inevitably he could sense where it would move from then on.

    The pause of silence was respected on his part, quiet overtaking their walk as he waited. A brow raised when the ‘competitors’ of the sort were mentioned. “Dragons of fire…” His brow furrowed from then on afterward as the thought lingered. Australia. Had the drake mentioned? Had he caught it from the other’s dialect alone? His memory served to fail him once in a blue moon. His eyes cast to the ground to the thought of the unknown territory. The fate from then on… frustration was shared; no matter how little Spencer knew of the situation. He knew the core frustration of know being able to put even the essential knowledge in the right place.

    His eyes lingered on the ground as the story indeed took the turn in a direction he had expected. A frown etched itself on his lips the further down it went. A hand tightened itself into a fist to the issue of hunting in particular. He knew all too well, and the tightness in his jaw would not begin to say. Spencer’s chin tipped upward to look forward again, assessing how close they were. “Humans have promise. They are resilient creatures, whether it is taken as something positive or not is a matter of perspective. They are intelligent, they have strong emotional response…” His head shook. “They know not what to do with it. That intelligence is often limited by their own desire. Those emotions spur their actions far more strongly than need be.”

    An almost pitiful smile came across his face and Spencer looked back to the drake. Wordlessly a hand raised, his fingers lacing through white hair to pull it back some. The tops of semi-pointed ears were visible where they would otherwise be hidden. “No offense taken, mind you. I am only half human… and no matter how tempting it may be to move as Raiya has done, I live where I am for a reason. As for your kind… I am sorry to hear of such a thing. To know nothing different than the situation the world had put you in.”

     

    “She is my pupil in regards to healing magic… Skya’s daughter. She has come a long way since our first meeting. She-…”

    Spencer’s words paused as his steps slowed down, little by little. His eyes were due straightforward, alert now as he stood tense. The roof of a building could just be seen over the slight hill that their path past Arzian took, the ruins behind them, a subtle hint of smoke from a chimney, hovering above the roof. “…someone is home.” He stated with a sense of disapproval in his tone. Slowly but surely he began walking again, caution to his steps.

     

  • [ Hello! Unfortunately, I'm planning on ending this char in the near future, as close to sometime this summer. However! I'll be bringing back another char from Nightwing, Skya, and I'll definitely start a thread with you with her. :) ]

  • She sat in the sand, hugging her knees, and allowing her forehead to rest atop. She gazed at the beautiful daw sky, the sunrise dazzling everything in sight. Though Zoriko was looking in it's direction, she'd actually spaced out a bit, lost in thought. Tears dripped downward, falling into the sand, leaving a dark patch in its wake

    Perhaps if she hadn't taken Tempest to work with her, they wouldn't be stuck on an island. Since she couldn't see her surroundings, she was unaware of the fact that Tempest was stirring, soon to awaken, and when he did, he woul walk over to her. In the distance, the colbat light and the summoning of that familiar trident all went unnoticed, that is of course until he had come toward her, the crunching of coarse pieces of sand crunching under his massive feet. Zoriko would pick her face up, her eyes puffy and pink, but the glow had vanished from her weakness. Her cheeks were just as rosy, if not more. When he pointed the trident towards her, she flinched, closing her eyes rexlexively. She trusted him, but almost got him killed, and thus didn't know what to expect. 

    What happened instead was that she was surrounded by a certain warmth, one which gradually eased her pain. She imagined that this is what death would feel like, but this feeling was different, as she was very much aware of the feeling of her toes in the sand. When the warmth faded, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up, seeing him dissolve the Trident. Her eyes began asking the questions before her mind can formulate thoughts into words, but stopped shortly when she realized what he'd done for her. A befuddled expression was replaced with a warm smile, as she patted the space next to her, gesturing him to sit down next to her. What came next was a reprimand from him, as he scolded her for not thinking of herself. Though her voice cracked, she spoke, her tone still adopting her feral pitch.

    "The healing only comes around once in a while, and I heal rather quickly. In any case, I mostly maintained my human form, while your energy levels were so low, that I couldn't even think of placing a glamour on you" 

    She placed her head back down, this time her chin sitting on her knees, so she could still see around her. Her hair was damp, falling to either side, the downward tilt of her head caused it to cover her face from the sides, restricting her peripheral vision a bit. At this point she couldn't see him, and he likely couldn't see her face. But after a moment, she brought her hand up, burshing the locks behind her ears.

    In a moment, she picked her head back up, and stood up, rising to her feet slowly. She took the cardigan that was draped around her waist and submerged it into the water, giving it a gentle scrub. She then stepped into the water to do the same with her blood soaked shirt and jeans, without having to remove them. After most of the blood was removed, she left her cardigan in the water to soak as she looked around for something. 

    "If we are going to get home as humans, then we are going to need some food, so stay here and I'll be back" With those words, came a gentle pat from Zoriko as she placed her dainty hand atop his head, before walking away. She was definitely tired, but no longer facing death as a possibility. 

    Bordering the shore was a jungle, dense to the point where she had to be mindful of her magic. As she walked along in the forest edge, the glow in her eyes slowly began to resume. Her body was no longer focused on healing, and thus began regenerating her magic ability. Within roughly a moment, the scales that covered much of her arms, legs, and potrions of her chest and face began disappearing, scale by scale. Her ruby hues scanned the area around her, gathering all the matertials her slender arms could carry.

    Finally, satisfied with what she found, she headed back to where Tempest was sitting, by the shore where her cardigan lay in the water, bound down with a rock. She put all her supplies down, different varieties of twigs, vines, rocks, and branches, surprisingly large quantities of all of them considering her stature. 

    She took two relatively short but stable branches, and dove them into the ground, pushing them in until they didn't sway. Then she tied a shorter piece of vine around the tops of the branches, pulling it taut to create a clothes line. She then wrung out her cardigan and hung it over. Pleased with her work, she sat down next to Tempest now, and began working on some hunting supplies. 

    Her magic abilities were mostly back, and so she could use it to mold the items she brought to fit her requirements. She took a large branch, approximately 1.6 meters in length, placing it in her lap. She then grabbed one of few smooth rocks, and placed her thumb on roughly the center line. Concentrating on it, she would press down her thumb, and lifting it up to reveal a smooth split down the middle. Taking the crisp, razor sharp edge of one of the halves, she began scraping away some of the bark on either end of the stick until it was significantly thinner at the end and thicker at the center. Finally with the stone, she created two crevices on either side, deep, but not enough that the branch would snap. Using the stone now, she evened up the surface of the branch, making a slight indent right at the center, one that was just as wide as her hand. Finally, she put the branch down, to fetch some twine. She always kept a roll in her purse, as they add the perfect texture to some of her paintings. She took out about enough twine to match the height of the branch, slicing it with the rock. Then she tied the loose ends, creating a slipnot, on either that would shortened the true length of the twine.

    Finally, she looped the twine along the small crevice she made as one end of the branch, and tied it tight, ensuring that it wouldn't shift around. She then got up, and placed the edge of the branch, twine and all under her foot, bending it slightly, and attaching the other loop to the other side, working quickly, making sure that the twine was taut and the branch was bend at the middle, allowing an even distribution of pressure. Proud of her work, she then tugged at the string of her newly made bow, ensuring that it was tight enough to stay put but still flexible enough to shoot an arrow. 

    Soon she made herself arrows, breaking off small and sharp pieces of rock, similar to before, until they were trangular and sharp to a tip. Attaching them to one end, and some thick waxy leaves to the other. She didn't have feathers, but these leaves should serve the same purpose. She made 10 arrows like this. Finally, moving on, she grabbed another long branch, grabbing her rock, this time splitting it so that she had made a dagger out of it. Using this dagger, she smoothed out the branch a lot faster, and then formed one of the edges to a point, but a slightly blunt one. Then to the other end, she fastened another sharp triangular piece of rock, this one a bit larger than the ones she used for her arrows, thus creating a dual ended spear. Lastly, she used twigs, twine, and thick waxy leaves to create a quiver, and a basket, then fastening twine around it so she could place it on her back like a back pack, rather than hanging to one shoulder like a traditional quiver.

    Satisfied with her work. and the weaponry she made, she quickly placed her newfound collection next to Tempest, and the sat beside him. She patted the top of his head to get his attention, and began to inform him of the plan. Her voice was now her normal high piched human voice, and all the scales has disappeared from her body. Assuming that he would have healed just as quickly, she started to put the plan in action.

    "Tempest, I need you to be my hunting buddy. Food is quite important, and if we play our cards right, we can make it back to the city by dusk. I'm going to glamour you now. As dragons, we tend to heal incredibly fast, and so you should have more than enough energy now to support a human form. Then, we are going to venture into the forest and find some food."

    A smirk formed on the dragoness' face as she placed her hands flat onto his body, enveloping him with a bright white light. When she let go, the light covered his figure, transforming his draconian limbs to human limbs. Before the light faded completely, she also placed his original clothing back on him. Moments later, the light would fade away, revealing Tempest, as though there wasn't a single scratch on him.

    Her smirk grew wider as she spoke, before he could object, claiming the bow and arrow as her weapon of choice, then nudging him to pick up the dagger and spear.

    "Shall we get going, hunter?" she asked him. "You might be a bit sore, but you should be able to move just as before, I made weapons in case we run into humans, I didn't want to seem too suspiscious" With a chuckle, she slung her filled quiver over her shoulders, and tied up her hair so that it was out of her face, and out of range of the quiver, so that she wouldn't grab it instead of an arrow. 

    When Tempest was ready they would walk into the forest, chatting rather quietly, hoping to find animals over anything else.

  • And so Zoriko sat there, back perched against a wall, her head leaning back against it. Her breathing was slow and deep, almost as if she were asleep, but the dragoness was very much awake and focused. The eminent danger around them had finally come to a halt, and though she could lower her guard, she refused to make that same mistake twice. Her Alexandrite pendant, now resting in plain view, was glowing a beautiful turquoise, the gem absolutely untouched by the hazards surrounding it, as the crimson glow in her hues remained dull. Slowly her eyes rolled shut, she was just resting, trying not to fall into a slumber maintaining consciousness.

    Neither Tempest nor Zoriko were doing well, yet somehow managing, perhaps by a single thread

    The area around them was once filled with the shrill of battle, yet the peace that hung above them was interrupted by the cry of what seemed to be a human infant. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound, how troubling. Having briefly taken some time to relax, she had just enough energy to left her head off the wall, looking around for its source. Her gaze took to the armour clad figure, who seemed to be reaching for the silhouette of an infant, one whose presence felt much like Emmy.

    Zoriko allowed her gaze to wander away as she put the pieces together in her head, and once she understood, her ruby hues snapped back, looking onward as the armoured figure picked it up, cradling the spirit in his arms as though it was still living. Zoriko's lower lip began trembling a bit, and tears formed in her eyes, soon spilling out and rolling down her cheeks, glimmering in the moonlight. She raised her bloody hand up, wiping away her tears, but somewhat silent sobs would escape her. On one hand she mourned for the loss of lives, yet on the other hand, she felt relieved. This child must've been stranded here for nearly a century, and now it could finally find salvation.

    As the armoured man cradled the baby, rocking it in an attempt to pacify it, Zoriko lowered her head, an honorable tribute, not just for the baby, but for Emmy, Emmy's brother, her best friend, and many others who lost their lives. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers interlocked, not praying, but just giving a humble salute, after all, they too could have been lost among them. Zoriko's white hair fell to either side of her face, restricting her vision that much more, but in her peripherals she was able to observe bright lights, growing and quickly vanishing. Frequent tears fell now, falling into her lap, but they were all free now

    At the sound of footsteps, she slowly lifted her head, then her gaze, to notice Tempest walking towards her, yet beyond her head, she couldn't move her body. He was limping, his leg definitely fractured, though if they could get to the city now, she could give him an elixir that would help heal him. Even if she were able to heal him, she wouldn’t be able to do so all the way.

    A somber smile was given, a forlorn thank you for going out of his way to help her, despite his own injuries. He eased her onto his back, where she allowed herself to lay down, on her stomach, her arms wrapping around the base of his neck for support, as he slowly trotted, carrying them out of there, leaving a pool of blood in her wake. Zoriko then closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into a light sleep, one that would help her regain some of her energy, just a bit, until she got back to the city, just a bit longer.

    Her eyes remained closed, but the journey was not quite peaceful, as she felt changes in her own elevation, and even the sound of hooves, but unless she heard a battle cry or felt running, she granted herself a chance to recover. If it wasn’t clear already, this was the hint that she had finally placed her trust in Tempest.

    _____

    Her eyes opened slightly when she heard the sound of water, when she looked out, they were in water, then drifting off to sleep again, this time, her hands emitting a faint green glow, fading like smoke escaping from her palms. Soon the cool mist of the water, had become warm sand, cushioning her body, as she finally opened her eyes. She was resting next to Tempest, who had reverted back to his feral form. Shifting a bit, so as to not wake him she slowly inched herself out of his grasp creating some distance between them, enough to not disturb him. Sitting up now, she'd come to the realization that they had escaped the boat, and escaped the water. A bit of her energy had returned, just enough to walk, but unfortunately not enough to heal her wounds. Though severe, she found a strange peace in the atmosphere surrounding them.

    The time now was nearly dawn, judging from the colour of the sky, the rise of the sun was but a few hours away

    Slowly she stood up, stumbling quite a bit, taking in her surroundings, they were on a beach, somewhere she couldn't quite recognize, but likely away from the city. She looked up to the sky which was beautifully adorned with stars, with vivid constellations coming into view. Her favourite was the big and little dipper, it reminded her of her mother, and how close they were, how she’d never leave her side. A slight smile formed at her lips, as she walked toward the beach, sitting right at the shoreline. Tide was low, and so the water did not form waves, but gently rippled to and away from her. She cupped a bit in her hands, allowing it to clean her wounds. The salinity of the water sent pain jolting through her body, but she carried on, using nature’s antiseptic to clean her wounds, persevering, but occasionally gasping and whining of the stinging pain.

    Her wound hadn't stopped bleeding, yet it had significantly reduced. Thus, she rinsed out her cardigan in the water, wringing out the blood, then tying it tightly against her torso once more, holding the salt water against her wounds. Finally, taking some more water into cupped hands, she brought it to her face and her hair, washing herself up. Though when she peered down at her scaled arms, she noticed her porcelain hands emitting a faint green light. Trotting over to Tempest, she plopped herself against him, noticing that his breathing was dangerously slow.

    Zoriko was determined not to lose him, and so, instead of using her healing to mend her own wound, she placed her hands over his fractured hind leg, mending the bone almost perfectly, but lacking the energy to allow a full recovery. She hovered her hands over his body, allowing the burns, gashes and other injuries to heal about 70% of the way through, before running out of energy to do more. Whatever fresh blood was already on her clothing spread to the sand around her. Feeling a bit light headed, the glow in her hands vanished as she placed her hands on her torso. Alas, it didn't accomplish much, apart from clotting the blood in the area, finally.

    She then took a few more precautions now. She didn't know where they were, and frankly she did not want to risk anything. Drawing in the energy from her pendant, she placed a glamour on Tempest, which reverted him back to human form. Earlier he remained due to his own abilities, but until he could so do, she lent him some of her own magic. Using the same glamour, she concealed the scales on her arms and upper body, allowing the ones on her lower body to remain, as those were out of sight anyway. In the unlikely event a human were to find them, he would not suspect a thing

    Dawn was finally upon them, and though she was tired, she refrained from falling asleep, keeping her magic very much alive, so that they could leave, and recuperate in the city.

    She sat, facing the eastward, gazing off at the horizon, the disc like sun slowly emerging in the distance, marking the end of an adventure, and the beginning of the calm after the storm

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