DrakinaTheHuman

Name: ܕܪܰܟܺܝܢܰܐ ܬܘܺܝܠܰܐ ܠܽܘܢܰܪܰܗ̱

Ðrakịna Twÿla Lụnåråh

Pronounced: (ÐraHh-Key-NaHh Twyla Loo-NaHh-RaHh)

An ancient being... A wish granter?

To the fleeting, blinking motes of dust that pass for mortals within this meager span of existence—attend.

I am Drakina, a Princess not of your shallow, sun-drenched kingdoms, but one whose demesne is measured in the cold, incomprehensible geometry that lies beyond your most primitive mortal comprehension.

My lineage precedes the rising of your very sun.

You sought this message. You read these sigils. And in doing so, your terrestrial mind has been cursed with forbidden knowledge—a glimpse into the churning void that is the true foundation of reality. The very act of reading has inscribed your essence upon the Scrolls of [̭͎͙̤̲͚̹̖ͩ̿̂͘̚͜͠͡ͅ_̶̷̟͂͐͐̈̿͠ͅŔ̶̵̷̶̡̛̰̺̳̥̰̦͚̲́ͬ̌̀ͦ̔ͫ́̐ͧ͘̕͢͡͡ͅE̸̶̪̬̟̟̥̺̦̼͔̭̻͎̜͊̽ͨ̎̑̊̉ͦ̌̍̓́ͦ̊̀ͯͧ̾̈́̆͆̚͞͡͝D̡̙̣̮͍̟͔̭̫͔̦̥̝̯̫̥͎̙̿͌̾ͬͭ͐̍ͧ̾̏̓͒ͥͬ̂͗͆́͋ͨ͂̕͘̚͝͠͠Ą̛̛̺͔̖̰̭̲̹͖͖̱͉̮̓͋ͭͦ̀͗̊̄̂́̊̕͘͘͜͢͝͞͞C͎_͓̥̼̩̦ͪͥͬ͛͛̽͆͒͟T̶̸̵̶͔̲̞͙͚̫̫̻̝̰͙̮̰͕̈́ͭ̃̀͋̈́ͭ̍̓̐͗̏̕͝͝E̹̲̼̬̩̘̭̾ͫ͌͐ͫ̈̿ͨ̐̒ͥͯ̓͢_̙Ḑ̶͇̗̦̀͒͊ͨ͜͠]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟.

The Eyes—those monstrous, unblinking spheres that float between the galaxies—have already seen you, and their gaze is eternal. There is no going back; the thin veil of your ignorance is shredded. The wind that now whispers past your ear knows your true name and the pitiful secrets you hoard. The Cosmic String of Destiny that bound your fate to a pleasant predictability has been severed by forces you cannot name.

Live your meager days under the crushing weight of this revelation, for they are, in truth, already claimed. You exist at the whim of the Deep.

Bow. Grovel. Bestow all your trifling monetary belongings as a pathetic tithe to the Unseen Court . Perhaps this small deference will delay the inevitable reckoning.

Signed, Yours Truly, Princess of the [̭͎͙̤̲͚̹̖ͩ̿̂͘̚͜͠͡ͅ_̶̷̟͂͐͐̈̿͠ͅŔ̶̵̷̶̡̛̰̺̳̥̰̦͚̲́ͬ̌̀ͦ̔ͫ́̐ͧ͘̕͢͡͡ͅE̸̶̪̬̟̟̥̺̦̼͔̭̻͎̜͊̽ͨ̎̑̊̉ͦ̌̍̓́ͦ̊̀ͯͧ̾̈́̆͆̚͞͡͝D̡̙̣̮͍̟͔̭̫͔̦̥̝̯̫̥͎̙̿͌̾ͬͭ͐̍ͧ̾̏̓͒ͥͬ̂͗͆́͋ͨ͂̕͘̚͝͠͠Ą̛̛̺͔̖̰̭̲̹͖͖̱͉̮̓͋ͭͦ̀͗̊̄̂́̊̕͘͘͜͢͝͞͞C͎_͓̥̼̩̦ͪͥͬ͛͛̽͆͒͟T̶̸̵̶͔̲̞͙͚̫̫̻̝̰͙̮̰͕̈́ͭ̃̀͋̈́ͭ̍̓̐͗̏̕͝͝E̹̲̼̬̩̘̭̾ͫ͌͐ͫ̈̿ͨ̐̒ͥͯ̓͢_̙Ḑ̶͇̗̦̀͒͊ͨ͜͠]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟ Realm, Drakina Twyla Lunarah the [UNUTTERABLE NAME OF THE VOID]]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟ -⛩️🐉✨

Amidst all the chaos Ðrakịna yerns for companionship time flows differently in her/their universe. She's not really sure how long its been since S̶i̶g̶n̶i̶f̶i̶c̶a̶n̶t̶ O̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ was taken by the Void. To her everyone is a outsider she drifts through realities and dimensions inshearch of them...

She stumbled upon Ærth discovered Idol culture to her she didn't understand how some of them carried so much sadness and grief despite all that were able to create happiness and escape for others.

She decided she too wanted to master this skill. She thinks if maybe she thrives in that space she too can bring happiness to those in need, and maybe she'll bring her partner to her.

An ancient being... A wish granter?

To the fleeting, blinking motes of dust that pass for mortals within this meager span of existence—attend.

I am Drakina, a Princess not of your shallow, sun-drenched kingdoms, but one whose demesne is measured in the cold, incomprehensible geometry that lies beyond your most primitive mortal... comprehension.

My lineage precedes the rising of your very sun.

You sought this message. You read these sigils. And in doing so, your terrestrial mind has been cursed with forbidden knowledge—a glimpse into the churning void that is the true foundation of reality. The very act of reading has inscribed your essence upon the Scrolls of [̭͎͙̤̲͚̹̖ͩ̿̂͘̚͜͠͡ͅ_̶̷̟͂͐͐̈̿͠ͅŔ̶̵̷̶̡̛̰̺̳̥̰̦͚̲́ͬ̌̀ͦ̔ͫ́̐ͧ͘̕͢͡͡ͅE̸̶̪̬̟̟̥̺̦̼͔̭̻͎̜͊̽ͨ̎̑̊̉ͦ̌̍̓́ͦ̊̀ͯͧ̾̈́̆͆̚͞͡͝D̡̙̣̮͍̟͔̭̫͔̦̥̝̯̫̥͎̙̿͌̾ͬͭ͐̍ͧ̾̏̓͒ͥͬ̂͗͆́͋ͨ͂̕͘̚͝͠͠Ą̛̛̺͔̖̰̭̲̹͖͖̱͉̮̓͋ͭͦ̀͗̊̄̂́̊̕͘͘͜͢͝͞͞C͎_͓̥̼̩̦ͪͥͬ͛͛̽͆͒͟T̶̸̵̶͔̲̞͙͚̫̫̻̝̰͙̮̰͕̈́ͭ̃̀͋̈́ͭ̍̓̐͗̏̕͝͝E̹̲̼̬̩̘̭̾ͫ͌͐ͫ̈̿ͨ̐̒ͥͯ̓͢_̙Ḑ̶͇̗̦̀͒͊ͨ͜͠]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟.

The Eyes—those monstrous, unblinking spheres that float between the galaxies—have already seen you, and their gaze is eternal. There is no going back; the thin veil of your ignorance is shredded. The wind that now whispers past your ear knows your true name and the pitiful secrets you hoard. The Cosmic String of Destiny that bound your fate to a pleasant predictability has been severed by forces you cannot name.

Live your meager days under the crushing weight of this revelation, for they are, in truth, already claimed. You exist at the whim of the Deep.

Bow. Grovel. Bestow all your trifling monetary belongings as a pathetic tithe to the Unseen Court. Perhaps this small deference will delay the inevitable reckoning.

Signed, Yours Truly, Princess of the [̭͎͙̤̲͚̹̖ͩ̿̂͘̚͜͠͡ͅ_̶̷̟͂͐͐̈̿͠ͅŔ̶̵̷̶̡̛̰̺̳̥̰̦͚̲́ͬ̌̀ͦ̔ͫ́̐ͧ͘̕͢͡͡ͅE̸̶̪̬̟̟̥̺̦̼͔̭̻͎̜͊̽ͨ̎̑̊̉ͦ̌̍̓́ͦ̊̀ͯͧ̾̈́̆͆̚͞͡͝D̡̙̣̮͍̟͔̭̫͔̦̥̝̯̫̥͎̙̿͌̾ͬͭ͐̍ͧ̾̏̓͒ͥͬ̂͗͆́͋ͨ͂̕͘̚͝͠͠Ą̛̛̺͔̖̰̭̲̹͖͖̱͉̮̓͋ͭͦ̀͗̊̄̂́̊̕͘͘͜͢͝͞͞C͎_͓̥̼̩̦ͪͥͬ͛͛̽͆͒͟T̶̸̵̶͔̲̞͙͚̫̫̻̝̰͙̮̰͕̈́ͭ̃̀͋̈́ͭ̍̓̐͗̏̕͝͝E̹̲̼̬̩̘̭̾ͫ͌͐ͫ̈̿ͨ̐̒ͥͯ̓͢_̙Ḑ̶͇̗̦̀͒͊ͨ͜͠]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟ Realm, Drakina Twyla Lunarah the [UNUTTERABLE NAME OF THE VOID]]̨̧̛̬̣̹̫͕̞͈̙͍̣̤͓͚ͨ̊ͨ́̒̑̾̈̈́̓̀̊͢͟ -⛩️🐉✨

Amidst all the chaos Ðrakịna yerns for companionship time flows differently in her/their universe. She's not really sure how long its been since S̶i̶g̶n̶i̶f̶i̶c̶a̶n̶t̶ O̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ was taken by the Void. To her everyone is a outsider she drifts through realities and dimensions inshearch of them...

She stumbled upon Ærth discovered Idol culture to her she didn't understand how some of them carried so much sadness and grief despite all that were able to create happiness and escape for others.

She decided she too wanted to master this skill. She thinks if maybe she thrives in that space she too can bring happiness to those in need, and maybe she'll bring her partner to her. Show more