Chernobyl
Sayard

::Name:: Chernobyl
::Gender:: Female. Most of the time.
::Rank:: Infamous
::Species:: Anthropomorphic Dragon/full dragon; no exact information
::Age:: Immortal; around 35 as she is now
::Job:: Godspirit [modern] of radioactivity, and nuclear meltdowns
::Location:: Mindspace

~~Appearance~~
::Height:: Varies; usually upwards 7' in anthro form
::Eyes:: A pastel neon shade of yellow-green
::Fur/Scales/Feathers/Skin:: Various shades of sickly green and yellow, with patches of sludge-like brown. Black and almost-black sludge brown markings in strange pseudo-tribal/runic patterns decorate her face, neck, back, upper arms and chest, and these regularly move around.
::Hair:: Thick, strait, messy and matted, various lengths.
::Other:: Very spindly, most of the time. long, thin.

~~Skills~~
::Magic:: Biohazard/radioactive magics, Necromancy, Filter radioactivity from any area, heal radioactivity-related illness, inflict radioactivity poisoning, cause nuclear meltdown in areas that lack a nuclear reactor
::Physical:: Natural radioactivity about herself, that she can turn on or off. [usually off]
::Mental:: Wordless Telepathy, Plane-walking

~~Personality~~
::Mental Disorders::
::General:: Chernobyl is one of those people whose appearance and general being screams, "AVOID ME AT ALL COSTS." This is very good advice, and anything sane should probably take it.
Chernobyl is not dangerous because she particularly intends to be malicious or anything of the sort-- if anything, it's quite the opposite. She doesn't /intend/ to be much of anything. She just is, and what she is is Chernobyl.
As such, she lacks self control. She acts impulsively, making decision without rhyme or reason-- she simply acts, and does. That, and her inherent lack of self control in most instances, make her very easy to influence and manipulate--- but this is not advised, because the same things that make her easy to manipulate also make her fairly unpredictable. She'll turn on anyone she can't trust if she feels the need to, and in order to trust people she needs a mental bond of some sort, so she can know what's going on in their head. That, or she must feel absolutely no threat from them, which also usually requires at least a willingness on the other person's part to let her see inside their head.
She doesn't really understand words, in concept or in function, and thus talking is near impossible for her. When she attempts it, she ends up playing with the sounds words make, rather than getting a clear meaning across. The only way she can feasibly communicate is through wordless telepathy.
It surprises people to learn that Chernobyl is incredibly intelligent. To some extent, she can understand complicated concepts and isn't lost that far in her head. She'd be among the smartest beings in the world, but not for the fact that she's severely hampered by an incredibly strong case of Edo-Mens-Vix [literally, devour-mind-scared. For the sake of sparing ourselves long explanations that may or may not make sense, it's like a very severe case of paranoid schizophrenia with a few quirks.] This is the reason behind her lack of self control and impulsive decisions; she makes decisions based on whatever ideas are revolving around her mind at any given time, fears or otherwise.
It's interesting to note that Chernobyl is not immune to her own radioactivity. She's as sick, if not sicker, physically than she is mentally. She's subject to all the illness associated with radioactive exposure, and she looks it. She's too thin, much too thin-- almost literally skin and bones. She regularly experiences all the nasty side effects one would expect from radioactivity poisoning, and radioactivity cancer. In fact, if one were to perform a living autopsy on her, they'd find thousands of tumors in various sizes, that grow, decrease, disappear, and appear at random intervals.
Chernobyl is not dangerous outright to most people, however. She unconsciously controls her own radioactivity, so it rarely effects a anyone other than herself unless she very specifically wants to to [in which case, her control of it is so precise she can direct it at someone and not have it affect anything other than her target. Ironically, her radioactivity is the only thing she can actually control about herself.] She's also unconsciously benevolent--   she automatically filters out any radioactivity in an area. This isn't because she feels bad about anything, or particularly predisposed to being good-- it's simply because she has the ability to sense any amount of radioactivity in an area, and feeling it outside of herself makes her feel horribly unbalanced, and makes her unconsciously feel like she's leaking some of her own radioactivity into the atmosphere, which is also a particularly unpleasant feeling. Thus, she automatically takes steps to filter that out and remove it. The only time she doesn't do this is when the radioactive damage was intentional by herself, or when she's not feeling up to the task, or if she's just avoiding the specific place in question.
Chernobyl gets her name from the nuclear melt-down that occurred in Chernobyl. It was not a name she gave herself-- she has no name, and she uses Chernobyl herself only because it's the only name she can bring to her mind whenever anyone asks what her name is. Chernobyl is also one of the only places she specifically avoids.

~~History~~
::Former Location::

~~Connections~~
::Mate::
::Family:: Unknown
::Offspring::
::Bondeds:: Sayard, Red F Gryphydra
::Pets::
::Sponsering::

Bonds

::Name:: Sayard
::Gender:: Female
::Species:: Gryphydra
::Rank:: //
::Colour:: Red

~~Appearance~~
::Size::  [chick: 1'9" at shoulder]
::Eyes:: Red
::Fur/Scales/Feathers/Skin:: Oxblood red upper body, with brighter red lower body.
::Build:: Thin, elegant
::Other::

~~Skills~~
::Magic:: Blood Magic
::Physical:: Verbal Speech
::Mental:: Telepathy

~~Personality~~
::General:: ((Written by Phoenix)) Sayard is just a little warped in the head, though she's not really evil. She's twistedly fascinated by pain and suffering and wants to investigate it in all its forms, though it cannot be said it's something she enjoys. She has no desire to hurt people just for the sake of hurting them, but will freely use her blood magic on people in the same way that a detached scientist may work his experiments on lesser beings without any pang of conscience. Give her opportunities to witness preexisting pain and suffering, however, and she'll be far less inclined to try and instigate it on her own.

~~History~~
::Origins:: Twisted Fate
::Hatching Blurb:: ((Written by Phoenix)) Despite Chernobyl's screaming "AVOID ME AT ALL COSTS!" appearance, an all-red chick approached the godspirit anyway.
"Pah-riiih-tee Chayr-noooh-bie!" the chick cackled, pressing close to the cancerous being with a purr. "Myyyy pretty Chernoby, yes.

~~Connections~~
::Mate::
::Pedigree:: [biotheurge] Chen (Black M Dragon Whorling) x Nysinae (Red-Black F Griffin)

1: Ideas

1:Ideas
The three-headed dog that sat at the gates to Hades was scared shitless, and that was hard to do.

A lady was coming up to him, and she smelled bad. She smelled like cancer and genetic deformities, and those things always creeped him out. So, when she sauntered up to the gate, giving every impression that her intentions were to continue sauntering right into King Dis's realm, he cowered at the end of his chain and whimpered. It didn't get any better when she paused, grin an impossibly huge grin at him, and stroked his head, cooing "Cyooot Pahppy!"-- had he been capable of it, he'd've melted in fear right there. And then she was gone, through the gate and down the long slope that took any who dared into Hades proper.

And thus, Chernobyl got into Hades, uncontested. Again. She grinned widely, twitched her ears, and continued on her way.

Not that Hades was a bad place to be. King Dis did take care of his residents. Most of the beings were there by choice, or by unfortunate, but usually temporary, circumstances. After all, this was Mindspace. Hades was just one of those areas where reality had decided to hang itself, and it's corpse rocked back and forth from the ceiling, suspended by it's rope. The only time it was an unpleasant choice of residence was if you were being jailed there, and that was a sentence particularly hard to maintain, in addition to being, like so much else, temporary.

Chernobyl was not being jailed there-- in fact, she didn't even live in the gloomy underworld. She was just visiting a friend. With that thought in mind, and her characteristic smile on her face, she waded into the corrosive waters of Styx, and walked against the river, upstream.

~*~

In the middle of the river Styx, there was a sand bar. It was not visible from anywhere above or on either shore of the river-- the waters were too dirty to see much of anything. However, visible from either bank and from above, a rock grew out of that sand-bar. It was a jagged, pointed thing along two sides, and these two sides split the river slightly, and created an eddy of calm water on the third side, which was flat and parallel to either of the river's banks. In this eddy sat the river's god-spirit, submerged up to her eyelids. She was short, only 4' tall-- that was the reason for the sandbar, she needed something to sit on, else she'd never be able to keep her head out of the water-- but something about her terrified people who looked on her. She sat there, as she always sat there, observing her domain. Occasionally she'd scratch the head of a creature that came to her for attention-- there were so few that could inhabit the corrosive waters and thrive, and she liked those who did. And otherwise, it was silent, but for the usual background sound of the underworld and the occasional pained screech of anyone unlucky enough to fall into the corrosive river. But that was rare, and those who did fall in crawled out again and wandered off elsewhere to nurse their wounds, at which point all would be well as usual.

What a monotonous life.

It was about to get un-monotonous, though.

Chernobyl had been wandering for about half an hour, and her goal was in sight. She'd long since changed herself into a dragon- so much easier to navigate the strong currents then a spindly anthro form. But her wandering was coming to an end-- there was the rock, and even from this distance, she could see the tiny form that was the river's God-spirit.

She grinned, if possible, even wider, and continued wandering. Ten minutes later, and she had reached her goal.

King Styx glared up at the dragon who was now hovering over her. She was the first to speak, raising her muzzle out of the water so that she would be heard-

"What do you want."

Chernobyl grinned wider, twitched, and sat down on the sandbar, changing to anthro form. She was over 7' tall, and thus the water barely reached her flat chest. "Eye hahve ahn eye-dee-ah." she said, playing with the sounds of words as she always did. Chernobyl had really never learned to talk, just gleaned the basic ability from the minds of strangers, and thus she spoke with an accent that wasn't really an accent at all, and played with speech whenever she used it.

King Styx was silent, staring up at the larger being.

Chernobyl waited until the time was right, and then continued. "I hear-d soom-theeng. Yee-oo mayt lay-key eet."

"Speak without words." Styx replied, staring at Chernobyl with eyes as corrosive as her river. "It's painful to hear you mutilate language."

Chernobyl was silent for a minute, and did, transferring the raw ideas to the river god-spirit. She had, indeed, heard something. Something interesting. It was about dragons, but dragons that were on fire. Like the beasts of King Styx's river-neighbor, the Phlegethon beasts. But not. These ones were green. Sometimes. And they were on a place that was not-here. But it was somewhere, and that was good enough for Chernobyl. An interesting thing had visited her to tell her that, and she liked the idea. It tasted good. So she was going-- perhaps King Styx could come along?

"I'd have no one to watch the river." King Styx replied, expressionless as always. She was mildly interested-- actually, more than that-- but it was habit to deny invitations to leave. That's how Styx was.

Chernobyl cocked her head. But that's what King Styx had created the riverbeasts for, wasn't it? And besides, Chernobyl had a feeling. And you know how uncanny those always were.

Styx turned her head. Another head stared back at her, this one covered in brown fur, glowies drooping off it's vulture-like head. That head dissapeared beneath the water immediately, and King Styx shrugged. What the hell. She never usually left this place anyway, it was getting kind of lonely. Even with the riverbeasts around. "Sure." She said, turning back to Chernobyl.

Chernobyl nodded, but didn't move. There was just one thing, though. The beasts had fire, and wouldn't the river put out the fire?

"No." Styx replies, "It's not normal water. It only puts out fire that I want it to put out." And with that, the tiny god-spirit stood, swimming off to the river's bang. "Now let's go. I want to investigate this place. I got it's name off of your thoughts-- The Twisted Fate. One of my beasts went there recently, and I want to know what sort of place attracted one of my beloveds."