Villager: Septimus
Ferha
3
Villager Info
ID: #78390
Name: Septimus
Gender: Male
Location: Quetzal Palace
Born 9 years, 7 months ago
Career: Alchemist
Owner: musamow
Species: Fox
Color: Marble
Buffs:House: House has been destroyed.
Career (View All)
Septimus no longer has a house! They will be unable to work. Please replace the house or move Septimus into a FC slot.
About
Septimus was born as a vixen, with bright eyes and luscious fur that would have become the pride of any base noble that his parents could snatch for him. Merchants they were by birth and trade, and having no rank but the one that came from their purses, Septimus was their hope.
However, unlike a good puellaris vixen, Septimus did not stay quiet, and ignorant, and wed and birth squealing children. No, instead, he began to read, to take an interest in the sciences, in the fabric of man, the universe, and even that of a god.
(In fact, years later, peers and students and future creatures of the creed, would swear that Septimus bottled and stored the essence of a god himself, not to use on himself, or anyone, but merely research for the good of knowledge.)
With that knowledge, Sepitmus pulled together taboo materials, and did the unthinkable, the impossible. He used a breeding potion on himself, and gave himself musk and height and the crumbling laws of society were tossed out by his hands, just as he was tossed out of the town for this crime, and many more.
But before that, his puellaris features were stripped, claws and teeth torn away, leaving him naked and soft and sweet, it seemed, but these city folk did not understand the true power of the mind. And this, Septimus had.
Many years he wandered, growing older and wiser and all the more knowledgeable about his craft, his passion. For this, for his crimes against nature, he was distrusted and even loathed by some of the gods.
However he, like many more, where Time's and Fate's and Magicks' chosen children, and couldn't be touched.
One day, in a state no one could ever replicate ever again, even he, he gripped the threads that held the shining tapestry of reality together, and /pulled/.
And from the ripples he caused, from the tears and unraveling threads, monsters arouse, to eat and feast on the hearts and lungs and essences of men.
Septimus scurried to the Sanctuary, telling no one of his deed. He is not guilty, much, at least, but there is no need to. Men might die, might suffer, kingdoms might decay and children might cry.
But that tapestry, once dull and rotten and singed, was growing back again, healthy and bright and thrumming with the hum of stars and crooning midnight lullabies..
However, unlike a good puellaris vixen, Septimus did not stay quiet, and ignorant, and wed and birth squealing children. No, instead, he began to read, to take an interest in the sciences, in the fabric of man, the universe, and even that of a god.
(In fact, years later, peers and students and future creatures of the creed, would swear that Septimus bottled and stored the essence of a god himself, not to use on himself, or anyone, but merely research for the good of knowledge.)
With that knowledge, Sepitmus pulled together taboo materials, and did the unthinkable, the impossible. He used a breeding potion on himself, and gave himself musk and height and the crumbling laws of society were tossed out by his hands, just as he was tossed out of the town for this crime, and many more.
But before that, his puellaris features were stripped, claws and teeth torn away, leaving him naked and soft and sweet, it seemed, but these city folk did not understand the true power of the mind. And this, Septimus had.
Many years he wandered, growing older and wiser and all the more knowledgeable about his craft, his passion. For this, for his crimes against nature, he was distrusted and even loathed by some of the gods.
However he, like many more, where Time's and Fate's and Magicks' chosen children, and couldn't be touched.
One day, in a state no one could ever replicate ever again, even he, he gripped the threads that held the shining tapestry of reality together, and /pulled/.
And from the ripples he caused, from the tears and unraveling threads, monsters arouse, to eat and feast on the hearts and lungs and essences of men.
Septimus scurried to the Sanctuary, telling no one of his deed. He is not guilty, much, at least, but there is no need to. Men might die, might suffer, kingdoms might decay and children might cry.
But that tapestry, once dull and rotten and singed, was growing back again, healthy and bright and thrumming with the hum of stars and crooning midnight lullabies..
