[dragongoddest]

marking

[pIanted]

Username: lucky Cerise
Name:
(Optional) Name Explanation: Only 70 words or less.
Gender:Male
Personality: Only 100 words or less
History:Only 500 words or less
Story: Only 500 words or less
Art: Three pieces or less

[Qualeo]

Sauron

Username

Hi, my name is Qualeo, hopefully the soon - to be owner of this lovely guy!

Name and meaning

I have decided to name this fellow Sauron, after the main antagonist in the Lord of the rings series. He is named this because of Sauron's signature image, the firey eye.

Personality

Sauron is a Ceiral full of despair and anguish, tormented by his role. Ever since he was a teen, he has pushed others away in order to spare himself the suffering guaranteed if he were to let someone too close. To ensure this, he has developed a very angry and hostile attitude, lashing out at those who get too close. He does not necessarily hate anybody in particular. He simply can’t stand seeing anybody hate him because he let somebody in.

History

Many believe the gods are born in the ocean while others believe they come from the volcanoes. There are even a few who believe we come from space while others simply believe we came in to being upon the creation of the universe. In the end, they are all wrong.

We are believed to be immortal and impervious to pain, when in fact neither of those is the case. We may be gods and hold unimaginable power, but the only difference between us and normal Ceirals is that our life span is just extended. We do live longer, but not forever. Our role as “gods” is merely a position, no an entire new species. That is why many other Ceirals have different “gods” they worship.

We are in fact born like any other Ceiral, though some of us come from other gods. In my case, however, I was born two a pair of normal Ceirals. The god of fire has never been able to have a mate or hold any romantic interest of any sort, so the position has always been passed down to another Ceiral chosen by the sun. The sun, moon, and the stars are the “rulers” off the gods basically, though they do not have a physical form. They simply call out to those who are born with the abilities under their control, choosing those who have the most potential to inherit the role of the god position from the previous.

Anyways, upon my birth, the sun shone brightly over my mother as a sign of acceptance in to the rank of gods. However, I was not immediately given the title. I still had to earn it.

We who are chosen instead of born are whisked away from our parents at a certain age in order to learn from the god before us. We are taught to understand our role in the universe and our duties as gods. We are also taught the laws of the gods, the rules that bind us as one and prevent any of us from overstepping our abilities and limits. I spent many years isolated from others, simply training under the guidance of the previous master of the fire of the universe.

Eventually, when I reached my teens, I was deemed ready to take over the position. The sun shone brightly upon my master and I that day, his form vanishing and becoming one with the stars like the other previous gods. At first I was excited, as I had been preparing for this day my whole life. I was sad to see my master go, but I knew I had to focus on my job to honor his time. However, it was also that day I learned the curse of the fire god. We could never love another, and if we did, they would despise us until the end of their life. Ever since then, the path of the god has always seemed liked one of despair."

Story

The volcano trembled slightly, a loud gurgling noise erupting from the inside, smoke being expelled from the top. Creatures everywhere, even below the sea, tried to escape the incoming danger. The sky overhead crackled angrily before a bolt of lightning struck the sea, annihilating anything that happened to be too close. The land creatures stared up at the visible sun, though it was in fact a large eye rather than a sun.

Sauron stared at the orb in wonder, watching the element ravage the land as he concentrated. He had does this many times before, knowing fully well the laws of the gods did not apply to this ecosystem that belonged to him and only him. He tore his eyes away from the orb, however, at the bright light that suddenly engulfed him. The feeling of something scolding him filled his thought, causing him to snort.

“I am not breaking any rules- this is my ecosystem and your laws don’t apply to it. You know that” he muttered, seemingly talking to himself. He was in fact addressing the sun, her light shining through in to his cave. He laughed at the attempted guilt he felt, whirling around in rage.

“You cannot guilt me- in fact, you should be the one feeling guilty” he snapped, groaning as he felt the knowledge fill his head.
“I know the story. The god of death who fell in love with a mortal and neglected his duties. Souls became trapped in between for eternity, as he never sent the reapers. Ad when it was her time, he couldn’t do it – he simply let her live on until her soul withered and she fell in an agonizing death, her soul gone for eternity. The law was put in place on the six major gods to ensure this never happened again. To spare us from the pain” he scoffed, eyes piercing through the sunlight. He snarled furiously at the pressure of pride and honor being forced upon him, steam coming from his eyes as he snapped back.

“Don’t you DARE try to make me feel honored, even proud, of my duties! Do you see this steam? You should know very well what it is. Nobody else does though! They thinks its natural, that t just happens. But these are my tears. I can’t even cry properly! And those who fear me…they fear me because I can’t tell them that I appreciate them – that they make my job worthwhile. To make them like me would make them hate me. The gods of nature and life…they can’t help but enjoy the life they nurture! But they’re hated for it. You raise us to be proud and to love and appreciate the mortals- only to tell us y doing so we’ll be hated! Now leave!”

The sunlight quietly vanished, leaving Sauron to his unending loneliness as he ravaged the ecosystem once more. His anguish or torment filled the cave, leaving him hidden in a cloud of steam.

Art

Path of the Sun - By me
Loss of Innocence - by me
Shed No Tears By Me

[AmberSky.]

Username:
Name:
(Optional) Name Explanation: Only 70 words or less.
Gender:Male
Personality: Only 100 words or less
History:Only 500 words or less
Story: Only 500 words or less
Art: Three pieces or less

Possible reserve! <3

[Warrdog]

Username: Freaksho
Name: Xolotl
Name Explanation:
Gender:Male
Personality: Only 100 words or less
History:Only 500 words or less
Story: Only 500 words or less
Art: Three pieces or less

RESSSSS!

[Pine.]

Someone brought this to my attention and I realized I had never added this as a rule,

Your form must be on this thread, no websites and no separate thread for it!

This rule will be placed on the front page now :>>

[Bebop]

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A ᴡʜɪʀʟɪɴɢ sᴛᴏʀᴍ, ᴀ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ʟɪᴏɴ, ᴀ ʀᴀɪɴ ᴏғ sᴛᴀʀs....

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ᴜsᴇʀɴᴀᴍᴇ; Bebop
ɴᴀᴍᴇ; Vasuman
ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ; Vasuman is a Hindu name meaning
“born of fire.” Few in this age truly take notice of the creative power
of fire, but it is entirely thanks to that power that this age came to be.
Apart from the role that fire creation plays in Vasuman’s story, I chose
this name as an ode to the things long past and the things long forgotten.
{64 words}
ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ; Male

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“ʙᴏʀɴ ᴏғ ғɪʀᴇ.”

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There once was a Ceiral who was more interested in the worlds of the past than in his own future. He spent his days reading about ancient civilizations, and when he finally came of age he left his home with just his lucky magnifying glass and a chunk of rose quartz that his grandfather had given him.

This Ceiral traveled to the far ends of the world. Several small relics of value he discovered in his exploration; but he always had to sell them in order to fund his traveling. One day he heard about a set of ancient islands, with one island in particular having a dormant volcano said to have been used for ceremonial purposes. Something about that legend called to the Ceiral, so he traveled there with great haste.

The Ceiral was excited by the looming volcano when he arrived on its shores, and quickly found a passage inside. However after one of the many tight squeezes through the tunnel, he was upset to discover his magnifying glass was gone; and soon after that he realized that the ground grew warm underneath his feet. But he was intoxicated by the thought of discovery, and pressed onward regardless. Eventually coming out in a small chamber, he chanced upon a metal box on a stone altar. Blinded by his excitement; he seized the box at once. So strange that such ancient relics would be left out in the open….unless…

The trap was sprung, the burning floor crumbled, and the Ceiral fell straight down to his doom in the boiling blood of the volcano. He struggled to escape from the lava for many long minutes, till with his skin afire and his body unraveling, he submitted to his fate and began to sink under the flames.

However just as the molten rock began to cover his face, the ancient box- for it had fallen into the lava with him, exploded and scattered its contents around his smoking ruin.…but all that it held were stones…just plain white stones….

Illusion only. The stones were activated the moment they came into contact with the Ceiral’s life force. Taking on the characteristics of his inner being, they flashed into a brilliant glowing orange. Sparking violently; a thousand shards of light shot out and latched onto the Ceiral’s body just as he disappeared under the lava entirely.

The stones were protected so strongly for a reason; they contained old magic and served as a catalyst to one’s self. The stones could not create something that wasn’t already in a being; they instead took what someone already possessed and purified it- multiplied it.

One Ceiral disappeared into the angry earth that day and another Ceiral came out. The old one had a strong spirit and a sense of kinship with the flames, but the new one made the world tremble and the lightning bow down from the sky.

From that day on that Ceiral knew himself as Vasuman, and he claimed the volcano as his forge.

{500 words}

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ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ;
A whirling storm, a roaring lion, a rain of stars.....
all of these are things that bow down before the power of Vasuman’s heart.
For he is a passionate creature; and both his love and his hate can equally
rend the world asunder. But underneath the blaze lies an iron core; he is much
more than just a wild force. There is an eye to his storm- a calm. Vasuman may
be capable of destruction, but he is far more interested in the promises of
creation and enlightenment. When his flame blows out he wishes to leave
more than just ash.

{100 words}

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My name is Vasuman.

I think that I had another name once, something lighter…something happier…But I can’t say for certain… The fire burns so bright that it blocks out the light of everything else….

I used to be someone else, I know that much. They owned this magnifying glass; this relic that I found in the tunnels of the pit. This relic is my only clue to the past…….did I use it to examine the world? Or perhaps I carried it because I played with fire even then…Though I can’t imagine that it was anything like the way I play with fire now……

There is also this stone tied to my wrist, but that is hardly a clue of the past. My stone is much more a symbol of my present self; a life born from fire. You see my stone used to exist as something else, but then it was forged into something better. A truer, more complete version of itself.

The same thing happened to me.

We carry this potential inside of ourselves for our entire lives and it is just never needed…It remains dormant, hidden below the surface…..unless…..

The burning. You cannot imagine the burning. I have not been touched by a flame since, but I will never be able to forget how it felt…..phantom twinges come occasionally; remnant reminders of how weak my skin once was…….

But it was worth it. I felt something else underneath the burning; a song awakening in my chest, a song that shook my being to its very core. When the song was over, I was changed.

Just like my rock, I became forged into something new. The suffering heat transformed my being; it awakened my sleeping power, my true form.

My true form…one of the flames...

Most fire is fickle, but not my fire, my fire comes from deep underground, as steady as a mountain. It comes shooting out of the skies, unchallenged- unlimited!

The first thing that I did in this new form was fashion my orb; the first of many things that I would craft here….I had no idea what I was making at the time; I just knew that I had to make it. That intuition turned out to be correct, for I found that it is hard to understand your feelings when you have fire. Fire always appears to be angry even when it is not; and it is dangerous to let such fire control your feelings. My orb is a mirror to my heart, a gentle oasis at the best of times and a raging maelstrom at the worst, but it always speaks the truth.

Due to all these things, the world tends to look at me as a god; to look at me with wonder.

I wish that I could tell them about the real wonder, about how I was once like them, and about how much power they have hidden away in their frail little bodies…

But who would believe such a story?

{500 words}
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{Exploration} {Transformation} {Recognition}
all art by me

{all coding design purchased from the lovely Kat; at her lovely coding shop which can be found here.}

[Golden.AUO]

Username:
Bloodscythe

Name:
Tohil

(Optional) Name Explanation:
Tohil is an ancient deity that was worshipped by the K' iche Maya people.
He is the god of Fire, Sun, Rain, War, Sacrifice, and Sustenance.
He was also associated with Mountains.
The translation of the name is disagreed upon, as it could mean 'Obsidian' or 'Tribute' or 'Payment'.

Gender:
Male

←♨→

Personality:

Tohil is devious, always finding ways to satiate his needs from the 'lesser' beings around him. He is readily giving, as long as he gets his end of the deal and when he doesn't his temper and methodological thinking does. While he does have his moments of true kindness it is fairly rare. He much rather spend time alone, or with people he finds worthy of his company, though at times he graces the 'lesser' with his presence just to get some attention or to make deals.

←♨→

History:

Born with stardust and the void before him, he cried, bringing light with it. Then a cry of surprise echoed throughout the void as the light dissipated. For his childhood many would worship and fear him, as his powers made them believe they were graced by the presence of a god. The child god was nothing but kind, giving the people what they needed, and driving away the bad things that they didn't. At adolescence he began wondering what he could do with his powers and began to experiment. It didn't take long before he caused major destruction and the people around him began to question his intentions. He assured them, as the void had turned into a lush landscape, something for the young boy to make his own.

The people began to center their beliefs around him, calling him Tohil. Once he grew to adulthood he had it all, and the ability to gain what he wanted. The people built him temples to live within and threw themselves to him when they needed his power to help them.
Then, a purge started, people began doubting his abilities and drawing his worshipers away. He began to punish them all, furious at such outcries of insolence. The people started obeying again, bringing peaceful days upon them. However; they started trickling away from him. Fearing their death, and believing a kinder god would be better. They despised him, stopped their worship, started to tear down his temples. He tried to stop them, scare them with his power once more, but they had defenses and drove him from his home. The lonely and angry god looked for a new home, a place to set up shop once more. He hollowed out a mountain to call his home, waiting for new peoples to be born around him.

←♨→

Story:

It's always the same. The creatures below making themselves busy with what ever they find important. Today it's gathering food, and ore. The smokestacks above the Smelting building have been spilling dark, grey clouds for days. From his lonely perch upon the mountain, Tohil had watched these people prepare their small village for war for days. Of course, he had slight influence on this as he sent some of his own familiars to stir up some action. One such was a handsome, fire pelted boy by the name of Kaimetsu. He's been a familiar for a few years, considering the boy's cold heart and will to start chaos around him. Tohil took a grand opportunity in recruiting him to do his will upon the land. At the moment Kai was below, wandering the village in his usual route to ensure that the villagers were preparing properly.

Tohil didn't mind housing his familiars within his mountain abode. Many of them were too terrified to say otherwise anyways. His paws carefully held the handle of the magnifying glass as he peered through it to read the scribbled words of some bargaining papers. The village adjacent to the one below was the target of this little war, and now they realized their will to live rather than the rage to fight. These were to enact a treaty before anything could be done. Tohil's amused smile crept along his lips before the document caught in brilliant flames. "How dare they try to change what I have demanded." His calm never kept the storm inside from frightening the ones around him. "Make sure to take out any other documents such as these, as well as any intermediaries. I don't want to end this... yet." And a gentle replacement of his magnifying glass gave the rest of them a calming feeling. Though Kai, off to the right side of Tohil as usual, spoke up.
"We could always let the documents go through, but as propaganda, provocative statements and the like." The room seemed to stay quiet for an eternity before Tohil spoke.
"Yes, that sounds lovely, Kai. Enact that immediately." Now the room was in full deployment as Tohil sauntered up to his private living area above, and the familiars went about enacting the plan below.
*Clara has allowed me to use her Ceiral, Kaimetsu, in my story.

Art:
A Lush Landscape By Wildetier
Plan By Wildetier
Age Progression by Myself

[Rekhyt]

pixel here
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“When he awoke, the world was on fire.”


name -
His true name is Djinni, or Djin. He doesn’t go by that anymore. He’s called Khet, a name that he both loves and hates.

name explanation -
Djinni pretty much means 'a spirit capable of assuming different forms and with supernatural influence over people'. While I can't say Djinni will have much supernatural influence over other cerials, this fits because a) Jinni are universally considered to be beings of fire, and his fiery appeals make this work b) and simply because I thought it did work. Just personal preference. Khet means fire in Egyptian.

gender -
Male

personality -
Foremost, remember that Djinni may be a god, but he’s actually human with flaws. He’s scars that’ve haunted him forever. Djinni doesn’t actually understand other cerials very much- you might even say he’s uncomfortable around them, or hates them. He’s reclusive, preferring to stay on his own. He can’t realize how much people and things mean to cerials. Because of this, some things he says are taken to be funny, even though he never meant them to be. He hides behind his whiplash, sarcastic insults; using them to boost his inflated ego (Djin has a very high opinion of himself).



“While I was looking the other way your fire went out
Left me with cinders to kick into dust
What a waste of the wonder you were
In my living fire I will keep your scorn and mine
In my living fire I will keep your heartache and mine
At the disgrace of a waste of a life”


history -
The god, fallen to earth.
Djin picked himself off of the ground, slowly. His shoulder ached; hotfire coursed through his bones, comforting him. He shook his head.
And then spun around quicker than the human eye could follow, his whole body vibrating with pent-up energy. Finally! It had taken more time than he’d expected for him to master the power to come to this planet, barely populated, with mortal beings fit for slaves. He’d been here for thousands of years before- he had to go back to his own dimension for a chore. But now… a twisted grin curled the corners of his mouth. The stones circling his neck felt cold but as he moved, they started to warm up, collecting excess power which flowed off him.
Djinni had just started to walk with purposeful steps towards the golden, shining area of the city when he heard a meaningful cough behind him.
He spun around quickly to see a small, puny man-child standing behind him. The boy was holding Djin’s globe, his soul, carelessly in one hand, hefting it up. He was clothed in royal wear; the king’s brother. There was a small smirk on his face.
“Forget something?”


And so the great rivalry began.
“Khet!” The voice came from the boy, full of fear and happiness and a smile. Djin lifted up the corner of his lips, exposing shining, spear-like teeth; a warning. The boy always seemed to know where to find him. He’d never bothered to learn the man-child’s name; it was a symbol of respect. After the boy’d managed to riddle his way out of being burnt and given Djin back his globe, he felt the kid deserved some respect.
“Khet, can you show me your world?” The boy always requested. He wanted stories, dreams, tales. “Khet, please-”
Djin turned around quicker than the boy could follow, his hands holding flames that hadn’t been there a moment before; holding the boy up against the wall. Boy’s face turned white.
Djin weighed the options. He could just burn the boy now, and get rid of the annoying man-child. That was messy, though. The boy made pleading voices in his throat. Djinni looked at the boy, saw the fear in his eyes, saw the brother of an arrogant king, saw someone who didn’t think that Djin was a god, only a man.
The fire in his hand dissipated.
The boy whoofed out a breath, clambering down from the wall. “I thought you were going to hurt me, Keht.”
“I was.” Djinni’s voice was deep, low, rusty, the kind of voice you feel. “But I couldn’t.”
The boy leaned in. “I didn’t hear?”
“You didn’t need to.”

They were inseparable.
Djin cursed himself for that.
He didn’t watch.
He didn’t take care.
And then that one day when the king sent group of assassins the kill the boy, the brother who the king thought was too smart, there was nothing that Djin could do.
Nothing but burn.



“The poets say some moths will do anything out of love for a flame”



After
The setting sun was Djin’s least favorite part of the day.

Sure, it was when the light was at its brightest, when the golden-red spires shot down from the sun, when there was no other thought in viewer’s minds but fire.
Djin knew fire well.
No, it was his least favorite because the sun was too perfect. The sun offered hopes and dreams with its hands closed. And if there was anything Djin despised, it was a utopia.
He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing this. His hatred of the sunset had started with the humans’ love of it; he was vain enough to despise anything that they loved. Djin despised love. He despised hopes, he despised dreams, and he despised the sunset. His hatred for the sunset had started with humans, almost too small to be trifled with, but it had grown into a nagging itch that he couldn’t reach. He’d taken to watching the sphere of light fall from the havens, then, just staring, unblinking, into its radiance.
But then he started to remember, and he stopped watching.
Except for one night.
This night.

He still didn’t know why he was doing this. He had tried to give it up over the past few centuries, but somehow, on this night, his feet always moved him somewhere high up, where he had a perfect view of the setting sun.
As always, he tried to avoid the memories.
They came with claws, slicing him to bits, slitting holes in his carefully laid out shell, so that the blood-red light of the sun blurred all of his hard edges and nourished the small seed that he had always tried too hard to kill.
Nothing was worse than the pain of memories, because it doesn’t matter how dark of a place you crawl in or how far you run across oceans of hatred and fear, they are falcons and they fly above you wherever you are.

Humans celebrated a curious thing each year. An anniversary, a birth-day. Djin had never had any need for one before. He’d given up counting a century ago. Djin supposed that with a lifetime as short as they had it didn’t make any sense and at the same time made perfect sense to count how long you’d lived, how long until you die. Of course, some of their counting ended much too quickly, like the sinking sun that emitted beautiful light for only a few half-hours. Boy would have liked that comparison-
A curious growling noise startled him; it was wet and primitive and full. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from. He swallowed hard past the lump of his throat.
All around him was the darkness of a world without a sun.
He turned around and walked back to the city, fast, where he could crouch down alone in places darker and thinner than this and let mice burrow evil gnashes into his soul.
He paused, only for a moment, reaching up with a hand where the sun had been, so proud, so young, for a short amount of time before, remembering when once, he had done this hand in hand with another.
As he put his hand by his side again, it brushed against his face and he noticed something, a sudden wetness just below his eyes.
Funny thing, really. Humans are the only animals that cry, did you know that? The only animals capable of showing emotion. There was no way that Djin could have been crying. No way to explain the wetness in his eyes, the redness of his face, the pain in his soul.
He turned and scurried back.



A quick ending note
Just to point out- I found it easier to portray Djin when he was almost human and the other cerials were humans. That's why I didn't use words like paw or fur <3 All of the art on my form is linked to the person who drew it- I didn't want to put a separate section for art. I had an absolutely amazing time writing Djin out on paper and I wish good luck to all of the other contestants <3

[millennium.]

Res