Information
Orsted has a minion!
Extinct the Maldow
Extinct the Maldow
Orsted
Legacy Name: Orsted
The
Glacier BumbusOwner:
JollyAge: 12 years, 9 months, 3 weeks
Born: July 3rd, 2011
Adopted: 12 years, 9 months, 3 weeks ago
Adopted: July 3rd, 2011
Pet Spotlight Winner
May 17th, 2012
Statistics
- Level: 7
- Strength: 17
- Defense: 17
- Speed: 13
- Health: 17
- HP: 17/17
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Stock Worker
I was born in the stellar nursery labeled by your people as R136, along with my many brothers and sisters. At first conscience, I was not a distinctive life form. In fact, I was a part of a whole, a small speck of being in a gigantic ocean of stars and galaxies. For the first million years of my life, I sat amongst my siblings, bright with childish notions of things like what living on one of the planets around us would be like. Then, by the time I had reached one million and a half years of age, my brothers and sisters began to grow, their bright blue hues blooming into various forms - beautiful things, creatures I have no name for. But as I waited to change with them, I felt... nothing. I felt nothing had changed, not even my own faint red glow. I had always been one of the most dimly lit of my family - not by your own human means, of course. I was as 'intelligent' as my surrounding stars, and yet I was the smallest, the least impressive in shade and glory. As everyone changed, I stayed the same: a tiny speck in an endless, ever-growing expanse of life. I was... afraid. Afraid of being forgotten. So I did what was the most forbidden amongst us.
I visited Earth.
When I arrived, it seemed as though everything on Earth was brand new. Nothing was as it is amongst the stars; everything had a purpose, and everything had a name. Trees, water, sky, even the odd 'animals' that roamed its surface and swam through its waters. I obsessed over this brilliant new plaything, so entranced by its beauty that I forgot the nursery, and my brothers and sisters, and I knew not of the fear that had haunted me over the millennia. I was distracted by this new, shining world, and nothing could break me from its intoxicating spell. Nothing, that is, except for a new kind of being, something risen from the depths of the broiling oceans and spat onto land with seemingly more purpose than anything else. I would later come to know them as man.
Men were not like the animals. They did not crawl, nor fly, nor swim like them, and they certainly did not make the same beautiful music as them. No, they were not unlike a star going supernova - widespread and as dangerous as anything I'd ever imagined. I feared simply standing at a distance would no longer 'cut it', in your own species' words. A new species was borne, and I knew fear once more. I descended to Earth's surface, taking my place amongst its lush forests and its most barren wastelands. I was no longer an insignificant speck; no, I was the most powerful being on this entire sphere, and the creatures upon it knew. They bowed to me, and I felt as if perhaps I belonged more there than I ever did in the sky. They called me many names, in their own various languages. Names of power and grace, carrying the weight of an entire world's safety behind them. But I preferred the one given to me by the humans the best. Of course, they had their own various labels for me. God, Alien, even some going so far as to believe me the spirit of their Mother Earth. But I was so much less than that.
I never told them.
They called me Orsted. It started with one human child, and then another, and from then on it became my name throughout the ages. Years upon years passed, and yet I felt no desire to leave. I had taken my place among the people of Earth, and I was content for it. I did not feel pitied, or looked down upon as I had surrounded by the endless universe. Here I felt powerful, but not haughty nor deceitful. I did not wish harm unto the humans, and they returned the favor, never harming my place of rest nor my small favored group of man and beast kind. Yet something was missing. I felt too powerful, as if I were harming the planet simply by muddling with its inhabitants. I felt the need to rest from my position of power, and to go back to simply observing, not directly imposing. So I fled back to the heavens, much to the dismay of my lovely, curious little beings. I was saddened by their plight, but realized I was not a God - I had no place amongst them, nor the right to meddle in their affairs. So, scared of both leaving and returning, I became a blanket upon the earth: a celestial medley of sights to please them, instead of the garish displays of my siblings they had fled from for so long. No longer would their planet be scarred by the heat of the sun, nor would they be frozen by the cold grip of the moon. I would protect them from all harm, and they would not know me as good nor evil. I would simply be there.
I was created in the stellar nursery R136. I was born on Earth.
The Maldow were my favorite animal I'd come across thus far, I was certain of it. They were not the fastest, or the strongest, or even the most intelligent creatures, but they held a certain sort of intrigue. After all, why would such a creature evolve into being in the first place? They only had a clutch of two, and this happened so rarely it seemed almost a planned and tracked thing that they would go extinct. Still, as stated, they were my favorites. So, I descended to Earth, the blanket I'd become over its harsh landscape flickering a bit as I landed. The Maldow tended to gather in the Arctic, and this was where I traveled, on foot in the guise of what I hoped looked well enough like a human, and by air in the form of a rather malformed dragon - I had never been the best at mimicking any terran being. Finally, I reached the mountaintops where I had watched the gentle giants play, and the scene I was greeted with filled me with a certain... despair that I had not felt before, and have not felt since. The caves were empty, as were the nests they'd made out of snow. No parents tending to their cubs, no hunting parties chasing rabbits, and no sign of life anywhere. The mountainside was absolutely void of my most prized creature, and I sat in one of the abandoned caves and slept.
When I awoke, it was to a gentle snuffling by my left ear, so close it sounded much like a hailstorm beside my eardrum. Shivering with a jolt, I sat up, only to be awarded by a pleased, harsh bark, and the feeling of ice-cold paws poking at my bare feet. Blinking with astonishment, I found that my curious friend was a Maldow - less than a year old, and not yet with the air of sullen discontent as an adult. For you see, Maldows were my favorites for their main flaw: they could never make a solid decision. It was frustrating, but it made watching their antics all the more interesting. Focusing on the tiny cub, now settled into my lap, I smiled. If this was the last Maldow, I would not let it die as well. And, as I am a creature of no certain energy, I did not know how to save it.
Him.
And didn't all living things have a name, as well? I had one, and this little malnourished cub needed one as well. Focusing, I thought as to the meanings of names, and how to make the world remember this small creature’s plight. Settling on a moniker with a rather melancholy hum, I placed two hands on his forehead, and then one on each ear. He looked up and sniffed my hands, curiosity peaked, but I continued, chanting in the ways my little band of companions used to teach me. Slowly but surely, the cold armor plating of the bear-like animal started to fade, his body becoming see-through. His eyes turned from the familiar, warm pitch black I had come to love to the shining white of immortality, sparkling as brilliantly as any star.
Seeming to realize what had happened, my new companion shifted, floating upwards and letting out a happy coo. Stifling a laugh, I rose as well, and the Maldow turned to me, as if asking permission. Once more I was stunned by the intelligence these underrated animals pos- had possessed. No use dwelling on it, I murmured to him, smiling as my voice no longer echoed into the cave. Now we floated high above the Earth, settling into the vast valley of space in its place.
He still sits, watching guard over that mountain. His form is now woven of stars and space matter, but he still seems to wear the same grin, and his eyes have never lost their unflinching warmth. I pity those who will never know the kindness of the Maldow, not even from the last member of their race.
I named him Extinct.
profile by User not found: mercy - edits & story by Jolly
I visited Earth.
When I arrived, it seemed as though everything on Earth was brand new. Nothing was as it is amongst the stars; everything had a purpose, and everything had a name. Trees, water, sky, even the odd 'animals' that roamed its surface and swam through its waters. I obsessed over this brilliant new plaything, so entranced by its beauty that I forgot the nursery, and my brothers and sisters, and I knew not of the fear that had haunted me over the millennia. I was distracted by this new, shining world, and nothing could break me from its intoxicating spell. Nothing, that is, except for a new kind of being, something risen from the depths of the broiling oceans and spat onto land with seemingly more purpose than anything else. I would later come to know them as man.
Men were not like the animals. They did not crawl, nor fly, nor swim like them, and they certainly did not make the same beautiful music as them. No, they were not unlike a star going supernova - widespread and as dangerous as anything I'd ever imagined. I feared simply standing at a distance would no longer 'cut it', in your own species' words. A new species was borne, and I knew fear once more. I descended to Earth's surface, taking my place amongst its lush forests and its most barren wastelands. I was no longer an insignificant speck; no, I was the most powerful being on this entire sphere, and the creatures upon it knew. They bowed to me, and I felt as if perhaps I belonged more there than I ever did in the sky. They called me many names, in their own various languages. Names of power and grace, carrying the weight of an entire world's safety behind them. But I preferred the one given to me by the humans the best. Of course, they had their own various labels for me. God, Alien, even some going so far as to believe me the spirit of their Mother Earth. But I was so much less than that.
I never told them.
They called me Orsted. It started with one human child, and then another, and from then on it became my name throughout the ages. Years upon years passed, and yet I felt no desire to leave. I had taken my place among the people of Earth, and I was content for it. I did not feel pitied, or looked down upon as I had surrounded by the endless universe. Here I felt powerful, but not haughty nor deceitful. I did not wish harm unto the humans, and they returned the favor, never harming my place of rest nor my small favored group of man and beast kind. Yet something was missing. I felt too powerful, as if I were harming the planet simply by muddling with its inhabitants. I felt the need to rest from my position of power, and to go back to simply observing, not directly imposing. So I fled back to the heavens, much to the dismay of my lovely, curious little beings. I was saddened by their plight, but realized I was not a God - I had no place amongst them, nor the right to meddle in their affairs. So, scared of both leaving and returning, I became a blanket upon the earth: a celestial medley of sights to please them, instead of the garish displays of my siblings they had fled from for so long. No longer would their planet be scarred by the heat of the sun, nor would they be frozen by the cold grip of the moon. I would protect them from all harm, and they would not know me as good nor evil. I would simply be there.
I was created in the stellar nursery R136. I was born on Earth.
The Maldow were my favorite animal I'd come across thus far, I was certain of it. They were not the fastest, or the strongest, or even the most intelligent creatures, but they held a certain sort of intrigue. After all, why would such a creature evolve into being in the first place? They only had a clutch of two, and this happened so rarely it seemed almost a planned and tracked thing that they would go extinct. Still, as stated, they were my favorites. So, I descended to Earth, the blanket I'd become over its harsh landscape flickering a bit as I landed. The Maldow tended to gather in the Arctic, and this was where I traveled, on foot in the guise of what I hoped looked well enough like a human, and by air in the form of a rather malformed dragon - I had never been the best at mimicking any terran being. Finally, I reached the mountaintops where I had watched the gentle giants play, and the scene I was greeted with filled me with a certain... despair that I had not felt before, and have not felt since. The caves were empty, as were the nests they'd made out of snow. No parents tending to their cubs, no hunting parties chasing rabbits, and no sign of life anywhere. The mountainside was absolutely void of my most prized creature, and I sat in one of the abandoned caves and slept.
When I awoke, it was to a gentle snuffling by my left ear, so close it sounded much like a hailstorm beside my eardrum. Shivering with a jolt, I sat up, only to be awarded by a pleased, harsh bark, and the feeling of ice-cold paws poking at my bare feet. Blinking with astonishment, I found that my curious friend was a Maldow - less than a year old, and not yet with the air of sullen discontent as an adult. For you see, Maldows were my favorites for their main flaw: they could never make a solid decision. It was frustrating, but it made watching their antics all the more interesting. Focusing on the tiny cub, now settled into my lap, I smiled. If this was the last Maldow, I would not let it die as well. And, as I am a creature of no certain energy, I did not know how to save it.
Him.
And didn't all living things have a name, as well? I had one, and this little malnourished cub needed one as well. Focusing, I thought as to the meanings of names, and how to make the world remember this small creature’s plight. Settling on a moniker with a rather melancholy hum, I placed two hands on his forehead, and then one on each ear. He looked up and sniffed my hands, curiosity peaked, but I continued, chanting in the ways my little band of companions used to teach me. Slowly but surely, the cold armor plating of the bear-like animal started to fade, his body becoming see-through. His eyes turned from the familiar, warm pitch black I had come to love to the shining white of immortality, sparkling as brilliantly as any star.
Seeming to realize what had happened, my new companion shifted, floating upwards and letting out a happy coo. Stifling a laugh, I rose as well, and the Maldow turned to me, as if asking permission. Once more I was stunned by the intelligence these underrated animals pos- had possessed. No use dwelling on it, I murmured to him, smiling as my voice no longer echoed into the cave. Now we floated high above the Earth, settling into the vast valley of space in its place.
He still sits, watching guard over that mountain. His form is now woven of stars and space matter, but he still seems to wear the same grin, and his eyes have never lost their unflinching warmth. I pity those who will never know the kindness of the Maldow, not even from the last member of their race.
I named him Extinct.
JollyPet Treasure
Souvenir Tile
Pile of Sacred Lands Sand