Beetle

Birthday
N/a
Name Origin
"an insect of an order distinguished by forewings typically modified into hard wing cases (elytra) that cover and protect the hind wings and abdomen."
Sexuality
Pansexual
Gender
Male
Sex
AMAB

Purchased traits
Bone Mask x1, x2 Fire Batons
Size class
Miniscule
Weight class
Lanky
Plot Death
Yes
Alt
Death via performing accident.
Appearance
Beetle is a fairly small dark navy dromaeus that has iridescent fur and feathers that run from the tip of his feathered snout, trailing all the way down to the tip of his tail feathers, adorning the top half of his wings and long limb feathers in a soft blue. Though hidden most of the time in the thick fur atop his head, when performing a specific show/play or when his emotions run too high, a dazzling crown of feathers sprout from his forehead like a wide fan of red and black.

Nestling-Fledgeling
Every good story starts with tragedy, does it not? And for someone such as Beetle, his life is a grand tale waiting to be told. It all started in the cozy confines of a speckled shell, draped in cloth and settled in pillows. The miniscule roo forced his way out of his calcium prison, hardly even shivering at the cold when he could feel freedom awaiting. A creature of fluff and feathers, that screeched and cawed to be noticed. The warmth of their father swiftly surrounding them, while pleasant, was simply an obstacle on his conquest to escape the nest.

Phasmid, his father, was the first to welcome him to this world. His mother, Krait, had been out. Doing what, he couldn’t care. He used to be an excitable little thing, an eager-to-please avus if you’d ever seen one. Oh how he pities his younger self. He remembers the day, it was like any other. His father’s duty called to him, and he left with a gentle nudge, reassuring the fledgeling that he’d return soon enough. As days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, it became apparent that his fabled day of return wouldn't be coming to pass. With his father gone, there were immediate changes to the tiny household. First off, Krait was down in the dumps, hardly leaving the house except to do her work, though some days she couldn’t even do that. Little Beetle tried his best to keep his mom happy, but nothing seemed to work. The looming cloud that sat above only seemed to grow as the days went by, and he could do nothing to stop it from coming down.

Sub-adult
Beetle was more than frustrated when HE came around. Scale was nothing more than a pest in this household, a parasite even. The second his claws clicked the stone ground, the storm dissipated. He was happy for his mother, but less so at what caused it. That bastard wasn’t even close to being worthy of her time, let alone to be the very source of her joy! Why, if Phasmid could see this now, his bones would be clattering through the catacombs. What right did this man have? Beetle couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of discontent for this dromaeus, a scowl permanently souring his features when he was around, a warning growl accompanying it should the fool not get the hint. He seemed just as dense too.

But that didn’t stop his mother apparently, as not a year later, they’d harbored a clutch together. Hare-brained idiot, the only luck those hatchlings would have is if they took after his mother and not that fool. While his hatred for the roo stayed, he felt…content with the eggs that laid in the nest nearby. He’d have a lot of fun raising them, his mother certainly won’t be too much in the picture with Scale anyway, and he doubts the roo would know a thing about raising hatchlings. So Beetle had resigned himself to the fact that he’ll be the ones raising his half siblings, a fact that he actually found himself growing… excited about. Yes, he would have a lot of fun with them. He wouldn’t feel nearly as alone in this place.

The day those two speckled eggs hatched was a…less than joyous day. He’d hoped it’d be joyous, that he’d happily greet the little ones into the world. They hatched with him incubating after all. But why was his mother so…lively? She wasn’t nearly this peppy when he’d first seen her. Beetle had half the mind to snap at her approaching limbs in offense as they gently picked up one of the squirming hatchlings, cradling the little one and cooing at them in a tone he’d never been privy to. Not too soon after, he was all but pushed out the nest so that Krait and Scale could take over, and his face held nothing but confusion and a hint of hurt. She never held him like that. She never talked to him in such a sweet voice. While the two busied themselves with their newcomers, he was left to stew in these thoughts as he stared from across the room. His eyes wandered the sight, trying to grasp…why? Why is she acting this way? His pupils tightened as his golden eyes landed on the target of his anger. You. His mind snarled, it was all HIS fault! Scale was the reason she acted this way. But it doesn’t matter, two can play this game. Beetle will show that no good idiot that he’s just as deserving of this new motherly behavior as his siblings.

It appeared in time that Scale wasn’t the fool, he was. Time and time again, Beetle showed his mother his grand achievements, the talent that he had with performance! His amazing feats with flame. His excellent grades and even better behavior! And yet, nothing seemed to be worthy of those kind words and gentle touches she gave to their younger siblings. It wasn’t FAIR! HE IS TEN TIMES MORE IMPRESSIVE THAN THOSE SNIVELING HALF-BREEDS! WHAT COULD THEY DO THAT HE COULDN’T?!?! WHAT DID HE HAVE THAT THEY DIDN’T?! Nothing could quell the fury that blazed in his chest, the sheer anger and frustration at the countless failed attempts of winning his mothers approval. Was it because they were Scale’s that she cared for them so much?? Was that it??

Wait…

The realization hit him like a falling boulder, threatening to crush him under its weight. That was it. The reason behind this sudden change. The reason behind… ALL of this. She behaved differently because…they were Scale’s. He was not. He was Phasmid’s, not Scale’s. It wasn’t Scale’s fault she acted this way, it was her own. Her own terrible way that he constantly tried to shove aside, believing with all his heart that if Scale wasn’t here, that she’d actually love him like she does the others. But that's not something…he’s privy to.

Adult
As always, the show must go on. And so it did. Beetle left not long after the revelation, in the dead of night, without a word. He held no animosity to his half siblings, only envy for the blood they harbored that he could never achieve. He took to the road, his batons, mask, and a bag on his back. He’d made a decent living, at least survivable in the Mountains. Running around and performing shows in dense areas, with a waiting wooden bowl nearby to collect earnings from passersbys. He’d often travel to the Northern Kingdom, simply because his tricks were more or less a novelty over there. It was on the road to Baraahn that he’d met her. A spunky dromaeus with an affinity with the art of illusion. Of magic tricks. Her name was Pyro, how poetic that he’d be drawn to her like moths to the flames he held in his claws. She was the high he’d been chasing, the thrill he’d been seeking, the comfort he’d been longing. The raging inferno in his heart settled into a comforting ember, the type that gently warms a room during a cold and snowy day. This. This is what he’d been waiting for.

But fate is a cruel mistress, like the food of the fae, once you get a taste then all will be vile in comparison with its extravagant flavor.The temptress had given him the most wondrous being to ever grace the earth, only to snatch her away far too soon. They had been visiting cloverfield, spending their time dazzling locals with their performances. It was…unfortunate what’d happened. A hippus party had raided the town, probably to try and wean out the unexpecting foes, so they would have an easier time claiming the valleys for the plains. Any avus strong enough to fight took arms, and Beetle and Pyro were not one to miss such a fantastic show. Like a twisted dance, the two weaved through the chaos and helped their allies with flaming baton and steady claw. The elegant yet dangerous display was cut short, when he heard a strangling yelp come from his love. The wonder of the fight extinguished as quickly as an ember doused in water as time itself seemed to slow down, fate herself laughing maniacally in his ear as he was forced to watch the display for what felt like centuries. His love, his wife, his Pyro, gasping for what little air would fill her pierced lungs, the red lifesource drilling from the wound still impaled by the jagged horn of the assailant. He…remembers little of what happened next. The hippus tossed her aside, freeing their horns of her battered body as Beetle flailed the blazing staff like a mad man. “GET AWAY FROM HER!!” He shrieked, his voice croaking in anguish as tears spilled from his eyes. Like trying to scare away a wild animal, he waved the flame around to keep the hippus at bay. The only good news he could glean from this situation was the hippus’ was only a bit bigger than his own, not dwarfing him entirely like many of their kin. Even if the avus was foolish enough to risk getting burned, they certainly weren’t dense enough to attack the prone couple as another, much larger dromaeus came to defend them. As soon as the enormous avus went to chase off the hippus, Beetle all but dropped the staff, the metal clinging off the ground as the flames continued to dance. He desperately clung to his love’s fur, his own breathing ragged and shallow as he held her close. Gently holding her face in his claws, he noticed how much blood had decorated her dark features, the very thing meant to keep her alive soaking his chest and running down the feathers. “My love please, stay with me.” He pleaded with a shaky whisper, as his forehead connected with his own. The near vice grip she felt his fur in began to lessen, and when the fell from their grasp, he knew his flame…had snuffed out.

The days seemed to blur after that, he felt…empty. Like a candle that’s wick was too little to light, forever trapped in the still scene of dripping wax that’ll never fall. He felt… so lost. He didn’t perform for a long while after that, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to a whole year of wandering. It was all he really could do, wander aimlessly about the forgotten trails that littered the kingdom, forgoing the towns or cities he’d crossed before in favor of solitude. It wasn’t long that he’d heard of the Queen’s surrender. They’d said she halted their forces when her advisor was killed. He couldn’t tell you why but he felt … angry. Angry at this news. Angry that the damnable creature that took his beloved away would not be brought to justice. Angry that all the lives that’d passed, sacrifices they’d made were…all for naught.

His wrath was a Crown Fire, threatening to burn everything in its path, from the smallest shrubs to the tallest trees, the blaze ever indiscriminate in its consumption. He fought heedlessly against anyone foolish enough to try and temper his hate, the roo lashing out like wisps of fire that warn those that get too close to its heat. How DARE SHE! That damnable hen will send fathers, mothers, siblings, lovers, off to their deaths! But she withdraws after losing someone she deeply loved? It was infuriating, that the dromaeus he knows has suffered so much and yet she gives up the second she suffered a single loss? It was PATHETIC. He held no sympathy for the coward he called Queen, did she not have any fight? Did she not want to bring her love to justice? To punish those that’d killed her mate? Apparently not, as the ceasefire called for a truce to be formed between the four kingdoms, the peace never settling the ire in his chest.

He’d learned to “move on” so to speak, started performing again in the Mountain and Northern Kingdoms. He’d sooner be plucked of all his feathers before stepping foot into the other kingdoms in peaceful means. He learned to stay away from the bordering towns, electing to only perform in places deep within the heart of the territories, Plains nor Rainforest were worthy enough to view his magnificent display, the only ones they’d be privy to would be the dance he performs in the heat of battle. He had also come to meet a few others of like mind and profession, all having their own qualms with the current ceasefire. While it wasn’t many, it was many more than Beetle could’ve ever asked for. While he wasn’t the same roo that he was two years ago, being in the traveling troupe eased the ever burning blaze in his heart, the one that writhes and shrieks to be freed of this prison of false contenment.

Elder
N/a

KIN AND CLOSE RELATIONSHIPS:

OTHER:

Height
25 cm
Length(W/out Tail)
30 cm
Length(W/ Tail)
76 cm
Weight
3 lb
Wing Span
91 cm
Average MPH(On foot)
18
Average MPH(In flight)
20-30

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Trivia

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