middaeg | Deceuer Catch-All

Entry tags:

Deceuer Catch-All

Who: Soren and OTA!
When: Various dates in in Deceuer.
Where: Depends on the prompt!
What: A catchall. Prompts are in the comments.
Warnings: Depression... References to house fires... the rest TBD

If you would like to plot a custom starter for your character, feel free to hit me up at

wingything or my CR plotting meme comment! I love personalizing threads to suit specific characters. Feel free to create your own starter in the comments below if there is something different you have in mind.

I will be writing these in bracket style for accessibility, but while I am flexible, I have a slight preference for prose. Feel free to use whichever suits you best.

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[Soren just lets Lahabrea have his sardonic remark at his expense with a quiet, tired sigh to himself, casting his eyes down to his lap. Whether he's actually any good at maintaining personal relationships or not (he has always needed help in that department, so the quip isn't without warrant), the point is, it's his own business and he would prefer it stay that way.

A silence stretches between them. Then, the smaller dragon voices another musing of his, more important, he feels, than making it up to Eren when the sword was rightfully "his" to begin with.]

Have you been feeling any unusual proclivities toward acquiring certain objects?

[He can't be completely sure beyond a doubt that he's becoming a dragon or a chimera, or even some odd species of harpy. Still, the hunch is there... especially after getting weirdly protective over his exotic fruit the first time they crossed paths.]

[Ironically the fruit had very little to do with his eventual choice in hoarding, it was just a generalized possessiveness versus someone who had immediately acted in a suspicious way.

One that he's long gotten control of and beaten into submission, as unhealthy as that is.]

For quite some time, yes; for several months I thought it some crow or raven-esque obsession with all that glitters. Very expensive jewelry, if you're curious. And not merely any expensive jewelry, cost alone isn't apparently important, but aesthetics and whether or not it matches my feathers.

[Lahabrea's ... awfully open with that bit of information, probably because he doubts in the extremes that anyone currently in this neighborhood could possibly come up with such an item.

Showy, brilliantly colored dragon wants showy, brilliantly colored objects, go figure.]

I collect less aesthetic pieces if they are interesting enough, but the compulsion isn't there. I admit I haven't felt violently about any select piece, however.

[Not yet.]

I see.

[...Huh. That category can't accommodate pineapples no matter what angle you try to make it fit. Was that a misunderstanding?

Obtaining this information still not quite enough to confirm whether he's a dragon or not, especially since it's perfectly reasonable to expect that another monster could have similar impulses. Soren watches as his luxurious, almost garish tail plumage practically shines with its own light within the dim reaches of this residence's crumbling charcoaled walls like a torch. He certainly doesn't resemble any dusky corvid Soren knows, but the strategist also isn't a walking encyclopedia on all extant fauna... especially when other worlds are taken into consideration. When he had first started changing, he was able to exercise more restraint when it came to acquiring his prizes.

Now that he has learned of his predilection, Soren can steer clear of such conflicts by avoiding places like jewelry shops and diamond mines in case he really is a dragon, and in case he is moved to violence. Luckily, he foresees a low probability of being drawn to any jewels or other such bedizenments when it comes to his own obsession. If he were attracted to rags and shredded textiles, now that would be a different tale.]

Do you think you are becoming a dragon like me?

Edited 2021-02-08 03:06 (UTC)

[Now that is a question. Lahabrea pauses in his efforts to drag a chunk of mortar and brick still together out of the ruins and further away; bricks can be recycled, but it's taking some work because he simply doesn't have any of the greater strength than human perks that all monsters seem to get sooner or later.]

I know not.

[It's a simple, straightforward, and utterly unhelpful answer. He resumes his patient struggle.]

There is much I know about birds, I've made several and fit some of their aspects but not others, and I do not think I qualify for the disjointed look that is many chimera, but dragons are unfamiliar to me. I have seen none here in anything but scales. I may not know for some time yet, the magic of each species, such as it is, is distinctive enough to identify if it arrives.

[Most of his explanation makes sense. It's not like Soren is afforded much of a view of his changes save for the tail and whatever else pokes out of the dark shroud of his robes, so Lahabrea's judgment of his own body's lack of chimeric qualities surpasses his own by default. He continues to watch him work at his own pace from his perch on the floorboards.]

I've only ever known dragons to possess scales, myself. [But there was some strange wording embedded in what he just told him.] What do you mean you made birds?

Indeed.

[Though one of the patriarchs of the dravanian horde were supposed to be feathered, he hadn't ever bothered to find out. Scales were how it went, and scales the rest of the dragons here had. Where did that leave him? Possibly as something else.

Sooner or later he'd fit into some category in an obvious way. Every species had magic of a sort, when that arrived he'd know for certain.]

I ... created birds. Some craft boots, or homes, or swords, those of my ... line of work, you could say, shaped life.

[He treats it as if it's a casual thing and belongs in the lineup of other crafts. Maybe it does, where he's from.]

But no longer, this miserable star has seen fit to strip me of those skills.

[Soren raises his eyebrows a margin. It may seem absurd enough to cast doubt upon, but after all the dragon has seen and experienced, he's more open-minded to the idea that this cloaked man could be something of an immortal.]

People of my world would call that the work of the goddess.

[His name marches through his mind like a chant to conjure the memory waiting to be unshrouded at the back of his mind. Lahabrea, Lahabrea... Where had he heard that word? Somewhere in Aefenglom, yet not at all... Was it a dream? The young dragon's eyes narrow in focus at a distant corner of the room as he juggles his mental retrieval endeavor with listening to the other monster's response.]

I imagine the people of your world are also very young as species go.

{He isn't treating it like it's astonishingly unusual. Not.. exactly frivolously, but that it isn't some remarkable thing that belongs only in the realm of gods.}

Given enough time, that too will be open to you, mayhap. Or at least, your distant offspring; tis a skill that may be taught. The realms of the divine are in the reshaping of the laws of reality itself, or granting life its own soul and sapience, not the mere mundanity of flesh and blood.

{Even those who can create life seem to have a higher tier yet, and god figures of their own to worship and idealize.

If there's been some dream of revelation of his title or presence at all.. Lahabrea's unaware of it. But Emet-Selch has lingered a while in this world.. as have several of his deadliest enemies.}

{It comes to him at last. Emet-Selch had mentioned Lahabrea. It was all stacking together, piece by piece.

"He is part of a small group of individuals who guide history toward destruction. With this destruction, the world shall be reborn and remade to their liking, their cruel god awoken and released from His prison."

Could it be?}

Not quite a god by your definition, then. But to create life forms is more power than most mortal beings are granted. What were you, exactly?

{Now that's definitely a biased source! Was the Ascian god cruel at all, when nobody had actually seen or heard from Him in twelve thousand years and all information comes from a chronic liar of a 'deity' with a penchant for revisionist history?

It's really for the best he doesn't know about that, as yet.}

We merely called ourselves men and women. Or people. I was a teacher, among other things, then. As much as I would like to say we had a grandiose name and some measure of divinity ourselves ... nay. We were ordinary. That's what 'ordinary' was, once.

{Soren is eyed. It wasn't impossible that mortals might eventually reach that point themselves.. at least off-world mortals. And then back to work. It's going to take days to clear out all this mess, and he won't be there for all of it, but for now..}

I am certain I must not be the only being on this star which counts lifespans in the thousands, not the decades. They will likely be similar in that respect. What seems fantastical and strange, merely daily mundanity.

Mmm... Yes. I do know of at least one other.

{He rises from his crouch in a languid motion, feeling a trickle more energy than before Lahabrea came. The Exarch had called Emet-Selch and his ilk immortal. The only understanding of immortality Soren possesses in any personal sense are the goddesses that created life on Tellius. Dragons... now, they may be powerful, intelligent, and long-lived, sometimes regarded as though they were immortal, but everyone knew that they, too, would eventually go back to the earth like every other life form created by the original goddess, before she had carved herself into two.

Soren wonders with a queasy toss in his gut just how long his own life could span. He's contemplated it before, but it makes him uneasy. He never wanted a long life. Just one spent beside his best friend. He couldn't imagine how dreary thousands of years would become. Especially given what he currently understands of these... Ascians. From — yes — his biased source.

Biased though it may be, he has been given enough to understand why the Ascians would destroy multiple worlds to revive what they had lost... but he can also understand in equal measure why they would need to be stopped. However, this has absolutely nothing to do with him. Not anymore. Not as this race of ancient and powerful beings have been rendered here in Aefenglom. Still, it offers some insight.}

There, then. It's not unheard of, if your species can survive long enough.

{And then, as it seems no further conversation is immediately forthcoming from Soren, Lahabrea refocuses on cleaning someone else's mess up.

None of this is his problem. He wasn't stupid enough to get into a fight over the city with another dragon and wreck homes and lives in the process ... but maybe one day he would be. A city that demanded they accept their instincts and then punished them for doing so deserved what it got.

But it still doesn't stop him from getting his own hands dirty with the ruins and ashes of someone else's mistake. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last.}

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Deceuer Catch-All

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I have lost the ability to type a normal bracket, but squiggly ones work still so..

if you can't beat it, i'll join you

Not yet. I have a closing bracket! ] ! but the opening ones just don't work.

So weird...

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