The Enemy of Life is Nothing.

Preferences Physiology History My FA My Aryion page My Imgur

Personality And Appearance

My characters, preferences and general goals lean HEAVILY towards things that might be described as 'torture porn'.

Please bear this in mind when interacting.

A large, possibly male, dragon is sitting, hunched over and staring intently at his arm. Flickering shapes twirl across his scales, echoing the display on his arm, distorted into illegibility by his body shape. He taps a claw at a scale, frowns, then glances up, noticing you. A friendly grin crosses his muzzle, although he stops short of calling you over. But his body-language is open, it would probably be safe to come sit beside him.

The sun is out, and lunchtime is past, he can't possibly be hungry yet.

Art by RouGarou

His personality is somewhat introverted, preferring to stay quiet, watching, rather than joining in, but if a conversation catches his interest, he cannot help but interject!


He is, unlike most of his relatives here, from a sophisticated age. From a very young age, he was exposed to all the most advanced metallic compounds science had developed. The religious fanaticism Idocrase had suffered under was long past, and while Scoria Biotite's bones still existed, they resided in a museum now, instead of the seat of government.

The ancient demons Obsidian and Sideromelane? Near-forgotten boogydragons from fairy tails and myth.

The nature of his bloodline is unknown to him. The latest in a long, unbroken lineage from his common ancestors, Sideromelane and Obsidian.


He grew up, as many did in that age, well fed, safe, and educated in a fashion that would not be unfamiliar to the inhabitants of this world. Of course the food was farmed meat, and he was given metal supplements as he grew, but that was normal for his kind in this era.

He was laid back, his instincts buried beneath the veneer of civilization and rules and law and meat packaged in supermarkets. He grew to adulthood, locked in the semi-yearling state imposed by the laws forbidding the natural birth methods of history, and population pressures.

He took a job, working as a technician for a large technology corporation. He was a functional hermaphrodite, something not common, or particularly accepted by society, but certainly not actively persecuted by anyone.


He died, in a small apartment, after decades in a small dead end job. All the advantages his biology, and upbringing had given him, wasted, his birthright taken by advanced technology and civilization.

He came to the afterlife, confused and aware for the first time of his true capabilities. He met figures from history, and knew that life in the modern age had robbed him. Now, he aims to make up for it. He has a clearer understanding of this place than most of his counterparts, he knows this cannot possibly be _the_ afterlife, but nor does he know what exactly it actually IS. He has an inkling, having made use of advanced technologies, computer simulations, and massive networks for sharing data in his past life, but the implications for his soul cause him to step, shudderingly, away from such lines of reasoning as soon as they occur to him.

He is, essentially, aware that there is a Fourth Wall.

As a product of an advanced, spacefaring civilization, he is well equipped with modern gadgets, weapons etc, and is quite happy and able to tinker with virtually anything technological. His upbringing included all the medical marvels of such an advanced age, his food laced with advanced alloys and compounds from birth. His scales are, through and through, as tough as industrial diamond, his bones are titanium, and despite his smaller than average size (compared to his ancestors at least), he is monumentally strong, with reflexes to match. All this means of course, he lacks the sheer virulence of venom common to his ancestors, but sheer physical power makes up for this in large regard. His tailblade is filed into a broad sword-like shape.


PRED ONLY: Not open for negotiation

I'm into most things with only a couple exceptions, talk to me.

No underage, players or characters.

Physical Approximations:

Exact scale varies on stance and player mood or requirments for scenes.


Foreshoulder to Ground: 12 Feet


Snout to Tail: 20 Feet


Tip to Tip: 30 Feet

Weight: Approx: 3 tons


Nothing to see here yet

text text