Information

Philemon_116
Legacy Name: Philemon_116

The Graveyard Fester
Owner: Chime

Age: 13 years, 10 months

Born: July 1st, 2010

Adopted: 13 years, 10 months ago

Adopted: July 1st, 2010

Statistics

• Level: 1
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

"You want to hear a story?"

The large bird waited for a reply.

"Not that story!" he bellowed. His eyes narrowed at the empty space before him. He glared at the offending space for a full minute, then his left eye rolled back in his head. It swiveled back around and stared blankly into the vast cave in which he resided. His clicked his beak three times and turned his head so both eyes were looking down the cave, all without moving his left eye. "A different story..." his voice trailed off.

He picked up his left foot and curled it close to his body. His knotted toes flexed, which made his long, black talons poke into the bottom of his foot. He set his foot back down on the stone ground. He unfolded his formidable wings and flapped them once before folding them against his body again. Greasy black feathers fell on the ground, shaken loose from the powerful movement. He clacked his beak in delight.

"Another grand day, wouldn't you say?" he asked, tilting his head to look at the feathers on the ground. If a bird could smile, his grin would have been menacing. Instead, he barked out a grating chuckle. "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

The large bird picked up a foot and stepped on the feathers hesitantly, as if testing to see if they would hold his weight. He looked at them quizzically. Then his head snapped around to look behind him. "Finally!" he cried.

He trotted further back into his cave. The bats overhead mumbled, but he paid them no mind. The bird walked to the left side of the cave where a ragged, dirty doll lay. He picked up the doll by its arm and gently tossed it to the opposite side of the cave. He stalked over and ungracefully sat down in front of the toy.
"There once was a man who loved birds. . . ."





Outside the cave, the wind started to pick up. It blew a discarded sheet of paper that had been lying near the entrance to the cave up into the sky. The page was thrown about and finally caught on one of the rocks high above the bird's lair. On the sheet of paper was a documentation of sorts, scrawled in messy handwriting.

The bird seems to be able to control both eyes separately, like a chameleon. It appears to loose feathers quite frequently, but there are never any bald spots that I can see. It lives in a cave, alone, and there are never any other creatures around, save the bats that sleep there during the day. I've never seen the bird bring back prey of any kind - there are no indications of carnivorous, omnivorous, or herbivorous orientations. It uses different pitches, almost mimicking human speech, when it squawks at the little objects it has lying around. I have only seen four to this date, all of them dirty and torn. The bird seems to cherish them; it will arranged the toys in a circle, sit down in front of them, and chatter to them. (Does it think these toys are its young?) I have never seen beh"