Looking out toward the streets, Ferricus sighed of frustration, and regret. He regret the fact that he mocked all the many people that had no money in the awali years…It seemed that Karma had bitten back, and his sister, Midasu, created some foreshadowing on his future. He still remembered the quote that she said, even though he was too arrogant and narcissistic to even care:
“You won’t stay rich forever, Ferricus. wewe need to stop mocking others for what they don’t have themselves. This may happen to you, as well, one day.”
And so it did. Others laughed in his face, waving a stack of cash. Women squabbled about him, giggling and laughing ever so sinisterly. Men always made such self-centered nukuu to him as he did to others back then. He just couldn’t take it anymore.
He heard footsteps from a distance, and looked out the broken box he was living in. It was Estelle, with her glass sword. It looked like she was walking in his direction, but at the streets at the same time. He turned the box around and faced the alleyway in cowardly fear.
But no matter what direction he was facing, he was still frightened:
On the streets, he’d always hear the painful shrieks and watch the blotches of blood stain the cobblestone road, and hearing Estelle’s maniacal cackle and snicker echo throughout the city.
In the alleyway, innocent people were always cornered kwa the most strange, deranged, and even disturbing of criminals. He still remembered a wet plastic bag drenched in blood, like the color of a dark rose with it’s sharpened thorns.
As Estelle approached the box, she whispered behind him:
“Feeling thirsty? Do wewe care for anything to drink? Maybe for…the fresh, most wonderful taste of blood?” Ferricus remained silent, still terrified of what his fate is to become. Estelle poked a hole through the box, the sword going through. Ferricus jumped and hit his head, quietly murmuring ‘Ow’.
“I know you’re there, Ferricus. Admit it. If wewe won’t, my sword will for you.” Ferricus was about ready to flee. He got out of the box and ran as fast he could.
“If only I were a hedgehog,” he alisema in a tone mixed with the sound of panic and worry. Estelle was running after him, right on his trail. He looked back and saw her, and started to run faster. He dodged cars, jumped over fences, and avoided hitting and bumping into people. Estelle did the same, but she had zaidi experience in doing it. She was almost kwa his side, and Ferricus had nothing to do but to crash through the doors of an elegant restaurant. He turned left and fled into the Men’s Restroom. Customers turned around to see what all the ruckus was about. Estelle knew he ran into the bathroom, so she hid in a dark corner.
After a few minutes, Ferricus felt safe. He walked out in the most pompous manner, uigizaji like how he was back then: Bathing in cash and bars of gold, living his life in a luxurious manor, with it’s marble floors and diamond-encrusted stair rails. When he walked out, Estelle snuck behind him, and struck him in the chest. Ferricus choked, and fell on his knees, trying to get the sword out. Blood started staining him, and was dripping onto the pavement. Estelle smirked and laughed ever-so-wickedly. “Enjoy your sleep for eternity,” she said, ripping the sword out of his chest, walking away. He then struck his head onto the ground, and slowly but surely, he departed from the world, closing his eyes. His blood…was the loveliest shade of red.
“You won’t stay rich forever, Ferricus. wewe need to stop mocking others for what they don’t have themselves. This may happen to you, as well, one day.”
And so it did. Others laughed in his face, waving a stack of cash. Women squabbled about him, giggling and laughing ever so sinisterly. Men always made such self-centered nukuu to him as he did to others back then. He just couldn’t take it anymore.
He heard footsteps from a distance, and looked out the broken box he was living in. It was Estelle, with her glass sword. It looked like she was walking in his direction, but at the streets at the same time. He turned the box around and faced the alleyway in cowardly fear.
But no matter what direction he was facing, he was still frightened:
On the streets, he’d always hear the painful shrieks and watch the blotches of blood stain the cobblestone road, and hearing Estelle’s maniacal cackle and snicker echo throughout the city.
In the alleyway, innocent people were always cornered kwa the most strange, deranged, and even disturbing of criminals. He still remembered a wet plastic bag drenched in blood, like the color of a dark rose with it’s sharpened thorns.
As Estelle approached the box, she whispered behind him:
“Feeling thirsty? Do wewe care for anything to drink? Maybe for…the fresh, most wonderful taste of blood?” Ferricus remained silent, still terrified of what his fate is to become. Estelle poked a hole through the box, the sword going through. Ferricus jumped and hit his head, quietly murmuring ‘Ow’.
“I know you’re there, Ferricus. Admit it. If wewe won’t, my sword will for you.” Ferricus was about ready to flee. He got out of the box and ran as fast he could.
“If only I were a hedgehog,” he alisema in a tone mixed with the sound of panic and worry. Estelle was running after him, right on his trail. He looked back and saw her, and started to run faster. He dodged cars, jumped over fences, and avoided hitting and bumping into people. Estelle did the same, but she had zaidi experience in doing it. She was almost kwa his side, and Ferricus had nothing to do but to crash through the doors of an elegant restaurant. He turned left and fled into the Men’s Restroom. Customers turned around to see what all the ruckus was about. Estelle knew he ran into the bathroom, so she hid in a dark corner.
After a few minutes, Ferricus felt safe. He walked out in the most pompous manner, uigizaji like how he was back then: Bathing in cash and bars of gold, living his life in a luxurious manor, with it’s marble floors and diamond-encrusted stair rails. When he walked out, Estelle snuck behind him, and struck him in the chest. Ferricus choked, and fell on his knees, trying to get the sword out. Blood started staining him, and was dripping onto the pavement. Estelle smirked and laughed ever-so-wickedly. “Enjoy your sleep for eternity,” she said, ripping the sword out of his chest, walking away. He then struck his head onto the ground, and slowly but surely, he departed from the world, closing his eyes. His blood…was the loveliest shade of red.
Hercul retired from he warrior status to live on as one of the dragon elders.
Hercul is a very wise dragon with knowledge that no other dragon seems to understand besides his grandson, Drakero. He can be intimidating upon site, but he is actually a kind man. He loves to light incenses in his house, but dislike the taste of cherries.
Despite his age, and not being as good as he was in his prime, Hercul can hold his own in a fight. Like his son Almaldo, and grandson, Drakero, Hercul is freakishly strong. He can bench press up to 20 tons.
(In other words, Hercul don't play)
Name: Snow Identity
Age: 20
Species: (Three-mood) Identity
Gender: Female
Eye Color: Light Blue with dark red eye lashes
Main color: White
Secondary color (stripes): she has dark red stripes on her arms and legs but they’re covered kwa her clothing.
Hair color: None
Clothing
A long black cloak, with white fur, manyoya collars at the neck, arms, and a white fur, manyoya end on the cloak-dress
Personality: Snow is friendly, though can be a bit aggressive. She doesn’t attack normally, and prefers to find majibu through talking over fighting. She is sensitive to people, and tries not to bother anyone if she can.
Abilities: Snow has morphing and originally had chaos energy powers until she swapped them for Magic-energy so that she could no longer be controlled kwa other identities.
Age: 20
Species: (Three-mood) Identity
Gender: Female
Eye Color: Light Blue with dark red eye lashes
Main color: White
Secondary color (stripes): she has dark red stripes on her arms and legs but they’re covered kwa her clothing.
Hair color: None
Clothing
A long black cloak, with white fur, manyoya collars at the neck, arms, and a white fur, manyoya end on the cloak-dress
Personality: Snow is friendly, though can be a bit aggressive. She doesn’t attack normally, and prefers to find majibu through talking over fighting. She is sensitive to people, and tries not to bother anyone if she can.
Abilities: Snow has morphing and originally had chaos energy powers until she swapped them for Magic-energy so that she could no longer be controlled kwa other identities.