Personal Message
❝Love me through the void of time
I'm looking down on all mankind
Falling through the void of time
I spread my wings and fall to fly❞
Description
this was my haven
the screams of the damned have long become friends to jimin at night. tossing and turning, cotton sheets wrapped around his his limbs. sweat buds on his forehead, only to slide down. behind fluttering eyelids is fire, green sparks flying through the night sky. agonized groans come from a dragon as their massive frame collides with the rock of the cliff. his wing, torn. the dragon hunters make quick work of him. the head decapitated, the smell of spilt blood offends jimin's nose, still fresh enough of a memory as if it were yesterday. teeth, claws, hide... the dragon's very soul and being valuable to the black markets.
this is the story of jimin and his forgotten tribe. forced to the snowy ice caps, jimin was raised as a young weredragon in a tiny tribe of perhaps the last of his kind. as a teenager, young to the world and naive to reality, it was shattered before his eyes. family, friends, everyone slaughtered before his eyes at a price. jimin's father, unable to flee with his son, gave up his life and the last of his power to save jimin from the horror.
it was not before though that the memory burned itself into the young weredragon's mind. like his father, all of the male dragons were decimated in the dark of night. his mother and other matrons were condemned to a life of slavery, spell laden shackles locked around their extremities. jimin was witness to all of this, all before his father sent him away.
as the last of his father's magic swallowed him whole, he saw a gleam of a sword and the sickening gargle of darkened blood splurting to the rock. he ran for days and nights, to avoid all capture. his dragon form was long forgotten--even as a youngling he was too large not to be spotted. with blistered feet and weeks of living on the scarcity of the land and the heath of his chest, word came of a city where even a lost race like himself could find a safe haven. a place by the name of Orenda.
with waning strength, the boy made the journey to the mythical city with little hope in his heart. fearing discovery of his true identity, jimin has taken to the identity of a simple flame elemental. this token ability, and the strenghtened hide of a dragon, jimin took to the art of glass blowing. learned from that of his ancestors, jimin built art in memorandum of his tribe's demise. his skills have become widespread since, giving him a token place amongst the well respected artists of orenda. if only they knew of his true identity. would they sell him for a fortune?
this is the story of jimin and his forgotten tribe. forced to the snowy ice caps, jimin was raised as a young weredragon in a tiny tribe of perhaps the last of his kind. as a teenager, young to the world and naive to reality, it was shattered before his eyes. family, friends, everyone slaughtered before his eyes at a price. jimin's father, unable to flee with his son, gave up his life and the last of his power to save jimin from the horror.
it was not before though that the memory burned itself into the young weredragon's mind. like his father, all of the male dragons were decimated in the dark of night. his mother and other matrons were condemned to a life of slavery, spell laden shackles locked around their extremities. jimin was witness to all of this, all before his father sent him away.
as the last of his father's magic swallowed him whole, he saw a gleam of a sword and the sickening gargle of darkened blood splurting to the rock. he ran for days and nights, to avoid all capture. his dragon form was long forgotten--even as a youngling he was too large not to be spotted. with blistered feet and weeks of living on the scarcity of the land and the heath of his chest, word came of a city where even a lost race like himself could find a safe haven. a place by the name of Orenda.
with waning strength, the boy made the journey to the mythical city with little hope in his heart. fearing discovery of his true identity, jimin has taken to the identity of a simple flame elemental. this token ability, and the strenghtened hide of a dragon, jimin took to the art of glass blowing. learned from that of his ancestors, jimin built art in memorandum of his tribe's demise. his skills have become widespread since, giving him a token place amongst the well respected artists of orenda. if only they knew of his true identity. would they sell him for a fortune?
this is now my home
much like his distant cousin, the chameleon, jimin blended perfectly into life of orenda. faked smiles and forced pleasantries soon become that of truth and not of lie by jimin. as his protective shell molted, the demure yet strong willed man came to be a well liked man of the city. even with an extended want of privacy, jimin easily became popular. it could be the possible shroud of uncertainty that was charming about the sharply dressed man. one not to shy away from suits from his many artist showcases, jimin is easy to catch the eye but impossible to capture for a conversation. many found his behavior decorous of a modest man such of his self. jimin considered it a distance to save his own life.
even as withholding man, jimin is not one to bite. it is only difficult for him to drop his barriers. one is to expect a fight with each passing moment they plan to drag an intimate conversation out of the man. the bashfulness of a blush is not hard to bring but it is not a stopper to his sharp tongue--dragons have always been known for their quick wit after all. yet friends are far and few between. fear rules his nights, often leaving him exhausted in the day and practically falling at his feet. jimin's constant apprehenshion always drove those wishing to know him better--and he would prefer to keep it that way.
even as withholding man, jimin is not one to bite. it is only difficult for him to drop his barriers. one is to expect a fight with each passing moment they plan to drag an intimate conversation out of the man. the bashfulness of a blush is not hard to bring but it is not a stopper to his sharp tongue--dragons have always been known for their quick wit after all. yet friends are far and few between. fear rules his nights, often leaving him exhausted in the day and practically falling at his feet. jimin's constant apprehenshion always drove those wishing to know him better--and he would prefer to keep it that way.
meet my guardians
spare me a moment
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rise, my chosen ones
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status
name | where | status