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June 13th, 2021

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Gender: Male

Age: 116
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May 31, 2021


06/09/2021 03:59 PM 

Generic Starter.

--------- If you are looking to start a story with me and dont know where to begin feel free to use this as a starter from me and reply to this. For ease of use-----------

  From a time long forgotten the Island of Dragons vanished into the mist very few residents made it to the Island mostly allies of the one non dragon or mythical serpent who had the Island specifically created for them to hide; to rest away from the angry eyes of Man. 

  A man named Yakasha had been part of many things and in many realms across the universe and had grown tired of the mortal realm once again, but this time there was no god to send me into oblivion, and so I would find rest with my allies... no, family on the Island of Dragons. I had become more to them and they to me than I had first anticipated. 

  The mist would hide us keep them adrift in a place all of their own. Untouched and unreachable by man, but also it would make them rest. Sleep was an odd thing for me as it really just let me dream about the past to re live events both good and bad. 

  There was no need for food; myself or the beasts of the Island. The magic suffused with the Island kept such things at bay. I had other reasons for being on the Island, but all fell under the umbrella of getting away. Mant friends were lost over the course of time, but such was the curse of Immortality. No I came to the Island to also protect those that still remained in my life. The longer I remained on the mortal world the more of his abnormal power grew. I became more of my namesake and had “devoured” demonic essence. 

  Poweful demonic beings are more difficult to consume and cannot devour in whole, but only portions as since not being my true self since coming to the mortal plane and into a physical form. Three demons known as Prime evils had come to the land. Diablo, Maphisto, and Baal. Back then I held an allegiance to a man and his kingdom these demons had wanted it destroyed.  

  Many died, but the kingdom and its ruler survived. These demons beaten, and I had stolen part of their essence. It gave me powers I had never known before, but also a darker influence upon my body as it tried to disseminate or digest such powerful essence all at once. The tipping point had been Lucifer, mostly accidental and over a misunderstanding we clashed, and infused with portion of the prime evils power all rolled into one had the upper hand, and though Lucifer escaped his blood had entered my body thus granting me a small portion of Lucifer’s essence as well, and it had been too much to handle thus I turned to the island to allow time for the power to dissolve for whatever that meant now. 

  Time meant nothing on the Island so I did not know how long I had been there. However staying in such a land of peace and rest to such a lively person and such a chaotic being was... boring after a time so I decided to leave. Unknowing if I would ever return to the island or be able to. 

  Crystal blue eyes looked down to the man in his arms his body shaking and eyes closed weak from blood loss. A small bit of blood pooling on his neck. Yakasha sighed slightly. “So you see You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He spoke to the man in his arms. The sound of the ocean crashing into the sand behind them. Yakasha closed his blue eyes and for a second just took in the sound and smell of the place he had come upon before turning his attention back to the man in his arms. “Since leaving the Island the hunger returned. Not that you will remember any of this tale anyway.”  

  Yakasha used his finger to prick his own thumb a small bubble of black almost oily blood pushed to the surface to which he smeared across the wound on the man’s neck such a small wound healed as soon as his blood smeared across it. “Forget.” He whispered to the man, and the man would forget the tale Yakasha had told him with no recollection of it in the slightest. “You got to drunk and walked the beach only to black out.” This would be the story the human man would remember not the tale nor the encounter with the monster known as Yakasha. The first and last of his kind. 

  Leaving the man to lay in the cool night sand Yakasha stood brushing the sand off from his dark clothes, and brushed his long silken raven black hair from his face. His blue eyes like crystal oceans surrounding endless pits of the void set deep in a powerful face peering out towards the brand-new experience, and a slight tingle of excitement ran through his body as he took the first few steps forward to new horizons. 


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