#c: devas

[yellingdragon-fr]

This dude be like

Internally: I just want to be loved again Externally: I’m going to melt your everything with Plague Breath if you come within 30 feet of me

[yellingdragon-fr]

Hi, could I ask random asks for my Imp boys Devas and/or Pharos? Any ask at all!

(note: any nsfw ask will be answered under a Read More!)

[yellingdragon-fr]

Felt like typing whatever this is involving Devas and Pharos, just to get a feel for them. This isn’t part of my lore building (maybe..)

It was one of those rare times when Devas descended the pillar and strolled the short distance (to an Imperial of his size at least) to the shores of the Thousand Currents. He was sure his magic reserves would last him this short moment to appreciate a well-needed bath in the waters.

The crimson-maned Imperial laid in the cool water. He sighed in content as the water lapped upon his chest and his flanks. It was early in the morning to where the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet. Majority of the Clan were still asleep, save for the night guards that patrolled the Clan’s territory. They spotted the Imperial, and after a quick inspection to make sure Devas was one of theirs, they left him alone.

Six Alstroemeria Foxes came out of their hiding from within the Imperial’s long mane. They made their way to the highest spot on Devas’s rump to avoid the rising water as he laid in it. They were yapping in distress and Devas was half-tempted to just lay on his side, and let the noisy foxes get dunked in the water.

The foxes eventually quieted down and settled on their dry spot of an island that was the Imperial’s rump. Devas closed his eyes, relaxing in the calming dawn and cool water.

“I’m surprised to see you down here, away from your lofty pedestal,” a voice spoke and he slowly opened his eyes. He turned his attention to the source of the voice. It was Pharos. He slightly glared at the Lightborn Imperial.

Devas huffed, his mood suddenly soured. He got up and began to leave the waters, much to the relief of the foxes. As he hefted himself onto land, Pharos approached him.

“You looked rather peaceful for once,” he commented.

“What do you want?” Devas asked, sounding annoyed.

“I thought you could use some company,” Pharos replied.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Devas scoffed and tried to pass the other Imperial, but Pharos took a step to block his path. “Move.”

Pharos gave him a playful smirk. “Ask more nicely and I’ll comply.”

Devas narrowed his eyes at the Lightborn, clearly getting irritated. He just wanted to return to his pillar and sleep the morning away. He tried to get around Pharos, but the other Imperial impeded him.

“Get out of my way!” Devas snapped and reared up to push Pharos out of his path. Pharos purposefully fell backwards, causing Devas to fall on top of him. Devas gazed down at the other Imperial with a slight snarl. “You idiot.”

“Now, now, Devas. Shouldn’t you be apologizing?” Pharos asked, gently grabbing Devas’s arms. “Well, even if you don’t apologize, I don’t mind this.”

Devas stared confusedly at the Lightborn, but his irritation soon overridden his confusion. He pulled away from Pharos with a low growl and turned to head back for his pillar. Pharos’s tail swung around to Devas’s chest, stopping him for the third time.

Devas spun around to snap at the Lightborn, but he was startled to find Pharos mere inches from his face. Pharos smiled warmly as he stared into the Plagueborn’s eyes.

“What is it that you find so fascinating upon that pillar of yours that you refuse to socialize with your own Clan, Devas?” Pharos asked softly, as if speaking to a frightened hatchling.

Devas stared back at the Lightborn with some curiosity just for a moment before hardening his gaze.

“It isn’t fascination that binds me to that damned pillar,” he growled. He finally pushed past the Lightborn.

“Then what?” Pharos asked as Devas walked away.

Devas paused and looked back at him. Devas somberly said, “Just stay away from me.”

Pharos watched the other Imperial climb up the pillar and disappear at the top and he sadly sighed. Perhaps next time he could hold Devas’s gaze longer; if he ever got another chance encounter with the Plagueborn.

[yellingdragon-fr]

Out of boredom, I decided to find all of Devas’s siblings. Found out a few things:

he has 63 siblings (including half-siblings); most are Exalted

found two that are still well-fed and in Active Lairs to this day

surprisingly all his siblings remained as Imperials, meaning none were from a nest of non-Imp pairing, or were bred-changed

the firstborn’s ID is 19553154 and named OrangeChocolate

the lastborn’s ID is 44085820 and Unnamed

Devas himself is the 13th child

Well that was fun. Maybe I'll go find his Ancestors and see what gen1 Imp (or other gen1 breed, who knows) he comes from lol

[yellingdragon-fr]

Ye! Just thought up some new lore tidbit for Devas

Most of his Beastclan ‘servants’ have some form of disability, handicap, chronic illness, deformity, ect. Outsiders think he likes to "capture” these specific Beastclan for some sick collection, but in actuality he has a soft spot for disadvantaged Beastclan since he himself was once like them when he was an adolescent. It’s a little known secret among Beastclan that the ailing ones that have nearly no chance at survival can find refuge under his wing

Devas doesn’t actively seek these Beastclan out, they tend to find him. He doesn’t really interact with them, either. He just allows them to settle near or even inside his den so that they’re safe. The only unspoken rule is that they can’t settle upon his Pillar or they’d risk facing his wrath.

[yellingdragon-fr]

Gonna answer these OC questions for Lysiamet. Gonna try to answer these once a day or something. This is mostly for my own reference, but you’re more than welcome to read it. =3

Original questions can be found here.

-----

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

As an adolescent, Lysiamet had been too busy trying to survive to worry about his general hygiene and skincare. His scales were flaky and falling off and his mane was always matted in gunk and he stunk like death, which isn’t unusual for most Plagueborns down on their luck. He did not look well as a hatchling.

As an adult, however, he’s been very keen on looking clean and disease-free. He bathes regularly and has his Beastclan servants tend to his mane, keeping it silky soft and shiny. He’s the most healthy-looking Plagueborn around, and that is an unusual sight in a land where Plagueborns pride themselves in battle scars and riddled with minor visible diseases.

Lysiamet, now called Devas as an adult, despises filth and the stench of rot. One would think he’d be used to it since he’s been living in the Scarred Wastelands all his life. Then again, he’s never been a “typical” Plagueborn.

If he had the choice, he’d live with a Water clan and spend his days in the water and preening himself.

[yellingdragon-fr]

rex-rises replied to your post “Gonna list a few tidbits about Devas. This is more for my own...”

Who is Devas? I only know Lysiamet.

Yesss~

Maybe one day he’ll reclaim his real name, and perhaps he’ll be a little happier in life. But until then.. =P

[yellingdragon-fr]

So I decided to post some of Devas’s backstory. Just a heads up if you’re gonna read it: it ends abruptly. This is a rough draft. I’ll keep at this and post the finished work in the future.

If you’ve got questions for/about Devas, please feel free to ask. It may help me build his backstory better. Thank you in advance for reading!

“This hatchling is frail. He’ll not survive past his first years. Should he live to adulthood, he’ll be cursed with a dying body. And that curse will spread into your Clan, devouring life. It would be best to snuff his life now, save him the agony...”

-- A young Imperial struggled to pull his body off the dusty cold ground. His body felt heavy and sluggish, starved for Magic. “Devas,” a stern voice called to him. He gazed up to see an older Imperial gazing back. “If you can’t stand, then stay down. Don’t bother getting back up. Just sleep.” “I can.. still keep going...” Devas growled, straining to breath. He tried to lift his upper body, but his frail forelegs gave way, making him collapse to the ground. He closed his eyes, breathing hard with frustration. The older Imperial said, “Your magic is completely drained, Devas. You’re not going to last long. Sleep, let your spirit slip away to the Plaguebringer.” Devas’s body trembled as he tried again in vain to get up. His eyelids felt too heavy to open. Part of him wanted nothing more than to sleep. Another part of him urged him fight and stay alive. Perhaps it was the fact he was Plague-born and was innately striven to survive. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to sleep. He could feel the hopelessness creeping upon him, yet he tried to fight it. “Help me...” he said weakly, unsure if he even said it aloud. He heard the other Imperial sigh heavily. With great effort, he slowly opened his eyes to look up at the adult Imperial. “I wish I could,” the Imperial said. “But there is nothing I can do for you. This is where you’ll take your final breaths.” “Why?” Devas felt his hopelessness fast approaching. The older Imperial was silent for a moment, and in that short time Devas feared he had passed on without realizing. “The Oracle foresaw a foulness within you, Devas. A blight inside you that makes you as you are. Our Elders wanted you away from our Lairs, away from our hatcheries, and away from our graves,” the older Imperial paused, letting Devas to slowly process the words. “Whatever that blight is, it constantly hungers for magic. It devours magic faster than your body can obtain. It seeks out magic outside your body: from the newly laid eggs to the recently deceased. As those devoted to the Plaguebringer, our Clan needs survivors. You’re a blight threatening our survival.” Devas’s eyes slowly closed. The crushing claws of hopelessness crashed down upon him as these words were spoken. His body had already given up, and soon his will to keep surviving was ebbing away. Devas’s mind began to resign to the fact that he was going to die. There was a sudden warmth around his small frail body. He wasn’t sure what was happening, his eyes unable to reopen and he was stuck in darkness. The warmth was solid he knew that much. It took him a while before he realized it was the older Imperial wrapping her large body around his. “I’ll allow you some comfort in your last moments, Devas...” she spoke softly. She moved her snout closer to his ear and whispered. He could barely process what she had whispered to him, but he knew her quiet words were somehow crucial. Before long, he fell into a deep slumber.

--

Devas awoke feeling groggy, pushing himself up onto his feet. He was a little wobbly, but he had strength again. He looked at the large dark colored Imperial that slept around him. Her words flooded back to him and he glared angrily at her lying form. He felt betrayed by her. “Wake up!” he yelled. He nudged the side of her head with his small paws. “Xiva!” There was no response from her. He nudged harder her, but she didn’t rouse from her sleep. “Xiva...” Devas’s voice cracked as a dread gripped him. She had to be asleep. He tried over and over again to wake her, but she didn’t respond. Devas didn’t want to accept the morbid fact that she may be gone. Even though he was angry at her for tricking him, she had stayed by him. She lied with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Xivanna was like a mother to him, cared for him when others shunned and despised him. His anger and frustration at her faded as the fear overcame him. “Xiva!” he cried out, trying desperately to shake her awake. “Get up! Don’t leave me!” He didn’t want to believe she was gone. He wanted her to open her eyes and tell him everything would be fine. But the truth before him was cold and cruel. Devas lied down next to the large Imperial and closed his eyes. He felt a different kind of hopelessness; one that was mixed with grief and despair. Xivanna was all he had, and now she was gone. Just as he wished he had never woken up at all, he recalled Xivanna’s whispers. ‘I brought you to this pillar and stabilized its magic at the top. If you truly desire to live, climb. So long as you replenish yourself and never stray too far, you will live.’ The young Imperial looked up at the tall pillar. Climb? It looked impossible. His weak wings could never carry him there. He looked back at the dead Imperial. Her body would soon decay and attract predators and scavengers. Devas had to try. He made his way to the base of the tall structure and felt a light tingling of magic beneath his paws. This natural formation that rose high into the sky was radiating with magic. It was weakest at the base, but as he began climbing it, he could feel the surge of magic flowing upward. Devas paused on a ledge, catching his breath. He looked down to see his progress. He was only a quarter up the way and had a long climb ahead of him. His eyes slowly panned over to Xivanna’s still body. She didn’t look dead and he half hoped she would get up. He shook his head and continued to climb. The hot sun was upon his back as he climbed, making him pant in the heat. Despite that, he didn’t feel his strength weakening as usual. In fact, the more he climbed, the more he could feel the magic flow beneath his paws. His muscles would start to ache a moment, and then feel reinvigorated when the next pulse of magic passed through him. By the time he reached the top, the sun had moved across the sky and toward the horizon. The young Imperial took in the sight of the flat surface of the pillar. He could see deep runes cutting into the ground where the magic collected, and it resonated in him. There were small disheveled nests and broken spears scattered about. There were also dead Raptoriks lying here and there. A battle had taken place not too long ago and Devas could only guess it was Xivanna’s doing.

[wip]