Omen
Pet Name: Omen
Owner: Scientist
Theme / Type: Inferno belragoth
Born: January 2, 2012
Gender: Male
MisticPal Name: Saint
MisticPal Age: 4637 Days
The prince that ran away...
Hit Points: 15 / 15
Strength: 18
Defense: 0
Speed: 11
Intellect: 16
Misticpower: 1
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
O M E N
The False Hero
Moved elsewhere. Visit me there!
What a pathetic excuse for a hero...
| Mars says So, what do you do anyways? To fill your time? You obviously don't socialize. *Mars grins, walking closer to Omen until she's right beside him* Maybe you read? Are you one of those people who read all day, and their brain is so filled with knowledge, it could explode? How does the dragon-ness work, anyway? Do you transform? Do you get wings? I wish I had wings. I do love flying. The closest I can get to actually flying is planes. *Mars lets out a wistful sigh, then looks at Omen, hopeful for an answer to at least one question* |
| Mars says Mmmhmm, *Mars said, in a slightly bored tone,* I get it. You want me to go away so you can drown in your own unpleasantness until you die, is that right? Or maybe I'm wrong. *Mars examined the flame in his hand with interest.* So, was I right, about the dragonness, or is that some cheap trick? |
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Mars says Mmmmhmm. *Mars hums, stepping fully into the room, her green eyes flickering strangely in the light. At the moment, these eyes were narrowed in a slightly annoyed ex |
| Mars says *Mars lets out a sigh. After thinking for a minute, she speaks again.* Okay then. I guess if I was taught, I'd never have much time for reading anyway. *Her green eyes gazes at the man thoughtfully* what is your name? mine is Rose. All my friends call me Mars, but not all people who call me Mars are my friends. So, which one will you be? Or would you like to wait to decide? *She lets out a small laugh.* |
| Mars says *Oh, I have my ways,* Mars grins mischievously, her brown curls bouncing, *Ah might also be a bit insane, but you know what? being insane is fun.* Her slightly accented voice is sweet, and dances about the room. She swings her legs down from the window sill she was sitting on. *What is that scroll?* She examines the writing, not understanding a word of it. Her eyes narrow, trying to read. * ...Ah can't read,* She finally admits after standing there for a while. *Can you teach me?* |
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