Shinjuku has a minion!

Time the Clock Tortoise

Legacy Name: Shinjuku

The Steamwork Paralix
Owner: SEOUL

Age: 9 years, 5 months, 6 days

Born: March 12th, 2013

Adopted: 8 years, 8 months ago

Adopted: December 18th, 2013

Pet Spotlight Winner
March 28th, 2017


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

The wind howls for it is lonely.

Longing grows for days gone by.

Faith in magic is fading.

In The Time Before Time was Counted

It was shortly after the formation of the eight great islands of Japan that Shinjuku took form, rising from the great lake as a massive dragon with shimmering scales of jade, pearl, and gold. He turned his head at the chiming voices of the lesser gods that had been born from the collision of greater forces, absorbing the infinite lessons they had to teach. Onyx eyes opened wide to take in the shaping ocean and the tiny fronds of green that would become ajisai - more commonly known as hydrangeas, and the ever-popular cherry trees that still bless the world with sweet fragrance.

He was made to understand his purpose in an instant. As the magic flowed over and through his skin, granting him the powers that would aid him in his mission, he whispered the following words in his native tongue:

"I am the Guardian of the lake and the keeper of the fields. I am the protector of all that is natural, of both creative and destructive natures. I am Shinjuku."

His powerful magical abilities allowed him to call down rain in the worst droughts and to turn away earthquakes that threatened the safety and happiness of the villages within his territory. The people called him the Dragon of Benevolence and showered flower petals on the lake in gratitude. He required no sacrifices or pungent incense. The sweetness of the petals was all the tribute he ever asked and his people adored him. They frowned on passing travelers that would try to turn him into a fearsome beast hoarding some great underwater treasure or a demon that would lure their children into the lake. Such guests did not retain their guest status for very long if they persisted in telling lies about the Benevolent Dragon.

Sometimes he would even take on a human form to walk among them, complimenting their children and promising the harvest would be bountiful. From a distance he could pass for human but up close the shimmer of his skin and the rich golden color of his eyes always gave him away. He never lingered more than an hour in the villages, for he could feel the longing coming at him in waves from young women that would make him the hero of their deepest-held desires. He could no more hurt them than he could unmake himself, nor could he return their affections. The lake was his home and his duty was wife and mistress.

How many centuries passed before the voices came to Shinjuku again, their soft murmurs troubled and full of grief? He could not have said. Time passes so differently for those that live eternally, as opposed to mortal creatures that may live an hour, a day, or near to a century.

Shinjuku knew only that his powers had been fading for a long time, ever since the first year that he sensed the lake waters beginning to diminish. His powers diminished with it. He could stop the weaker tremors still, but they would build and build until they broke through his control and every time this happened, he lost a little more of his power. By the time he heard the murmurs in his mind, the lake was little more than a pool that could be mistaken for the product of a recent rain.

The voices gave him hope...and filled him with dread.

He was being granted a new sort of power, one which would not increase his magical abilities but would give him the ability to travel through time. People of the future were filled with greed and had lost all connection to nature. It was the hope of the gods that he could turn hearts corroding beneath the allures of technology back to a world that still held beauty in forgotten corners.

His first voyage was exhausting. He witnessed the horror of an atomic blast and could not bring himself to abandon the descendants of his long-dead wards that were reeling from the results of long years of war. Their glassy eyes passed right over his body, seeing him as no more than another foreign tank rumbling through fields that did not contain enough food to feed even the small children. His gifts of food and medicine were snatched up eagerly enough, but their source was always mistaken and not one of them saw the dragon for what he was. He returned to his own time feeling as if his heart had been turned to stone. The toe on his left rear foot was an ugly gray color, its surface covered in cracks. The singing of his villagers in the distance could not convince him to raise his head, knowing what awaited their children many years into the future.

The gods chimed with voices full of sympathy and love, putting him into a deep and dreamless sleep. The corrupted toe was taken away, replaced by a shiny metallic one that would never rust or cease to function.

When he woke, he flexed the new joint, shuddering at how it glimmered in the sun. The more he used his new power, the less magic his bones would store. There would come a day when his body would no longer be able to make the journey home, a day when every part of him would cease to be flesh and would instead be shaped of metal and cogs. He wept, then stood and shook himself off. He was still the protector of his territory and if he had to sacrifice every piece of his body, he would do so for the sake of the land he loved.

Present Day

An area that was once more inhabited by sheep than people has changed dramatically. The modern shopping district is a bustling center of commercialism where billboard lights flash off the faces of mannequins displaying high-end fashion tops and cute designer bags.

The metallic parts of Shinjuku's body flash with neon color every time the signs overhead display their wares in a burst of chemical color. Those few people that even bother to look his way see only the reflection on the hoods of their fuel-efficient cars. Dragons are too unbelievable for his true form to be accepted as anything more than a trick of the light. Humans have few natural instincts left, but they are quite adept at seeing what they wish to see.

Thousands of voyages back and forward through time have taken their toll. It has been nearly eighty years since he was last able to muster the energy to visit his dear lake and the people who once left him flower petals. He is still able to travel through time but is limited to a span of fifty years. Even these more restricted trips are exhausting.

All four of his legs are fully mechanical now, as are his torso and one of his eyes. With robots trickling into positions once filled by men, he hardly feels out of place. He would burn all technological advances in a great gout of dragon fire to regain the world he once knew, but such fires require magic long since lost.

Besides, his place is not to judge those beings that live in the territory he must protect. He cannot steer their life courses. He uses his powers to avert the worst catastrophes that would demolish his lands and his very purpose for existence. The gods permit only minimal interference, though he has noticed how weak their voices sound as the people given shape by divine hands turn to idols made of silicon and plastic.

Today, his task is simple. Members of the Paper Dragon are spread all over Asia, meeting in hovels condemned by the city and marked for construction or in old warehouses no longer required for storage as consumers demand more space-efficient goods. Their grudge is one held against those foreign cultures that have turned the world's knowledge of Japan into fat-headed cats and atrocious comedies about the ancient art of kung fu. It is time for the world to be reminded of the great emperor they once were.

A subtle shift in the wind is all it takes. The young man entrusted with the detonator fumbles the switch that is vital to the bomb. When it is later plugged in place, one damaged wire their engineer did not discover will prevent the mechanism from firing. The attack is stopped by airport security, preventing the death of hundreds. Among these would have been the young son of a middle eastern king. Grief would have driven this man to do the unimaginable, destroying all that the people of Japan had worked so hard to build.

His brain and heart will be the last parts of him to turn. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes him on those days when even the one holding this piece of land together feels the forces of destruction testing his boundaries.

In Time to Come

The glory of nature is long since forgotten and the glory of man is fading...

Skyscrapers that once had immaculate windows are now abandoned, their massive panes of glass grimy or broken until only shards remain. People rarely venture past the end of their drives to collect the food parcels left each night by figures in pale gray suits. The famine has stretched into its seventeenth year. Rumors of what the rest of the world is suffering make the people of Japan shudder and thank those gods they still worship that they at least have nutrient paste to satisfy their hunger. The news networks are not what they used to be. When anything is broadcast, most people turn off their TVs rather than face the latest round of cuts. It is only a matter of time before the bans on frivolous use of electronics shut down these primitive devices as well. Cell phones were banned years ago, vehicles well before that.

The world is dying but the time for laying blame is past. This is the time to build families and cling to them. It is a time to root out survival skills that people have worked to forget for millennia.

There are a few that look on the mechanical dragon and swear they saw a wing glinting in the sun or a pair of warm copper eyes that made them feel as safe as the nights when an adoring mother and doting father tucked them into bed.

The people so desire a new Age of the Dragon that they are beginning to see once again. Only time will tell if the vision has come too late...

Hope will be restored.

There is a will return to the past.

The future will be saved from fate.

Credits: Profile by: Ringo Overlay by:CORE Story by:Pureflower

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Aquamarine Crystal Hair Pin

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Time Travel I

Time Travel II

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