Information

Praeses
Legacy Name: Praeses

The Darkmatter Mahar
Owner: SpookDoggy

Age: 11 years, 8 months, 2 weeks

Born: August 6th, 2012

Adopted: 11 years, 8 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: August 6th, 2012

Statistics

• Level: 935
   
• Strength: 2,535
   
• Defense: 2,197
   
• Speed: 1,391
   
• Health: 5,007
   
• HP: 5,007/5,007
   
• Intelligence: 2,530
   
• Books Read: 2290
• Food Eaten: 15
• Job: Director of SAI

He should have known better. If nothing else, he really should have seen it coming.

He did, really.

Nonetheless, better judgement be damned, a combination of curiosity and multitasking had finally gone and done Praeses in. Or at the very least, did in his general form and colour scheme.

Now, sitting on the floor of his study, amid a scatter of books and broken bottles, the mahar turned his clawed hand over once, and again. Admiring the sudden, rather volatile changes.

The dark matter had been docile enough, when he’d had it in the little vial. It blooped and bumped and seemed to watch him as he wrote, but had made no real attempts at escape. At least not until he’d knocked it over, reaching for a spare pen before he’d forgotten exactly the way he’d wanted it phrased.

After that it was a disaster, truly. A horror in slow motion as it bubbled free of the glass container and spread across the table. Grasping and clinging as it met his flesh, a tingle a bit like chewing mint as it melded in between his embedded emeralds. Ate him alive, in a manner of speaking.

Although, he seemed very much to be alive, right now.

Curious.

He leaned into the light of his poor, maligned desk lamp, still on its side from the sudden row. The better to examine his sharp, newly blackened claw. Still sharp. --He tapped it against the leg of the desk. -- And sturdy. Acceptable.

Satisfied, Praeses at last turned his attention to the thing bobbing just at the edge of his peripheral vision.

The little blob of dark matter blinked at him, all wide, white eyes and vacant expression.

“Well,” the mahar began, even as he got to his feet. “Are you pleased with yourselves?”

The dark matter blinked.

“Mhm.” He mhmed, glancing over the sleek, purple glimmer that had become of his fine emeralds. “You’ve made quite a mess, you understand.”

Blink.

“It isn’t going to clean itself,” he added, looking up at it again.

Blink.

Praeses held out his handkerchief. “Let’s get on with it, then. I’ve still got a handful of things to finish before my trip tomorrow.”

Spurred at last into action, the little ball of dope-eyed malice floated closer, somehow taking the kerchief despite a lack of any hands. It was joined by several others shortly as it tidied, the lot of them wiping up remnants and righting the chair. Pushing the desk lamp upright by floating into its shade.

Praeses nodded, straightening out his papers. “Better,” he said, taking a moment to admire his golden ring. Still bright and yellow against his newly royal coat of scales.

Curious.

If nothing else, this certainly put a new footnote in his studies.

If you're looking for something specific, it might be in one of the back rooms.

Pardon the mess.

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