Character Name: Mordred Lyra
Character Age: 67 years.
Character Gender: Female.
Character Species: Fury.
Character Power: Fire Manipulation.
Character Desired Clan (dragons): Loner until further notice.
The temperaments of a Fury are almost all shown with Mordred, she has a temper that can be only challenged by the most disgruntled Nox, and a steel tongue behind it. Her words are usually said without second thought and without care for any other opinion, her arrogance obvious the moment she is in view. She often stirs up bad tempers from others, even when she is in a good mood, because she has never cared about what anyone else thinks or does. Anything that amuses her should amuse everyone else, and she should be and is always the center of everything and everyone.
Pride and confidence seem to ooze out of this fury's every action and word, and she cares not for any other's idea of dominance and submission, because, simply enough, everyone should listen to her, and only think of her, and everything should always be about her. She hates it when she is told she is wrong, and will never admit it, even if it is proven. Did I say confidence? I meant overconfidence. She brags about her own abilties, and she doesn't believe in chance or fate. If she wins something, there is no getting over it. She will tease and slander until there is she grows bored of it. She enjoys it when others act annoyed or the like, finding it very amusing to poke deeper into a sore spot until there is either no reaction or there is no one to do this to. She enjoys jeering at others, and she loves the sound of an angry voice or tone.
Mordred is rather sadistic, in a way, finding it very amusing to watch something die, and will wound just to watch her prey bleed to death. She is not the cleverest, but when it comes to torture, if it gives her the sadistic pleasure she wants, she'll do it. Whenever she is tricked or manipulated, she will decide it was of her own will to do something, not believing in captivities or others of the sort. She believes herself free to roam and do whatever she fancies, not being very loyal, she will leave in the middle of something if it grows tiring to her. She never cared for other's wants and needs, and will leave others to die without noticing, believing herself to be the only one her needs anything. She doesn't know that difference between wanting a needing, either, feeling that it is all the same, one way or another.
This Fury's thoughts on humans is simple. They are play things, made for her amusement, and her hunger when she feels no need to actually hunt game. Her favorite activity is swooping down and flying them into the desert, then watching them until they die, only leaving them alone if they survive on their own. This is a sport to her, like a game to see if the human's are able to get around on their own. If they do, then she leaves them alone for the rest of their lives, but if they don't survive, she either eats them or leaves them to rot, depending on if they're worthy for her stomach or not.
Mordred has never felt guilty, one reason is because she'd never been told anything that has something to do with right and wrong, another is the fact that she is so self-centered that she wouldn't listen, anyway. Eventually, something, someday, might get through her thick skull, but for now, she had no care for what any others say or do, as long as it's not against her, because, if it is, there may be a bit of conflict.
If one thought her personality awful, there is almost no way of telling until you speak with her. There is a lit beauty about her gold and orange scales, such beautiful scales that each individually shines like a star in the proper light. Not a mark can be found upon it's shining surface, because Mordred can be almost obsessive about her appearance. She keeps herself lean and is naturally built narrow and slightly curved. The scales along her belly are large and thick, made to protect her precious organs, and built tight from her own exercise. Her front legs are thin and graceful, paws tipped with long, sharp, golden claws. Her back legs are thicker than the front, built to throw her into the air in a single bound. Her wings are built for the speed of a Fury, and she uses it to get whatever great rush she needs, loving the feeling of adrenaline pulsing through her and becoming an expert in diving. Her tail is long and wip-like, made lean for aerodynamic purposes and steering. Her muzzle is long and narrow, with sharp, knife-like teeth hidden just behind her lips.
Now to the colors. What a magnificent beast she appears to be, her belly scales are a light gold, fading slightly darker as they near her sides. Her limbs are a slightly darker gold, the same that covers her sides, with speckles of fiery-looking reds and oranges. Her back is covered in unique patterns of red, diamonds and circles go down her spine, ending with a red tail-tip. Orange dots surround these patterns, giving it a very beautiful pattern of shapes and dots. Her eyes are a dark shade of orange, almost burnt-looking, with slitted, black pupils. The spikes along her back are a light gold, the same as her belly and claws, only they have the smallest of red tips. Her wings are lined with red fingers, and a medium gold membrane, edged with burnt orange blotches.
Mordred holds a confident posture, usually her wings are slightly spread, her head high, and her tail waving behind here, never touching the dirty ground. Not a scar touches her luxurious body, she takes far too good of care for there to be one, and she has never been in a true fight, anyway. Not a spot of dirt, blood, or anything else that could block out the shine of her scales exists on this body, not even between her toes or under her nails. Her wings are unblemished but nicks, though the burnt orange around the edges can sometimes trick the eyes into believing they are ragged.
Mordred was born in the dryfoot wastelands, where she happily lived wild. She was well known for chasing humans into the desert, and watching, even tricking them, as they stumbled in search of water and shelter. While she easily ate and drank her fill by scavenging, when it came to meat and she couldn't find what she wanted, she often turned to humans, which were simply weak toys in her eyes. Her favorite thing to do growing up, once she had grown big enough, of course, was swoop down and grab humans, then drop them in the middle of the desert and see if they could make their way back. If they could, she left them alone, and if they couldn't, well, she usually grows hungry while watching.
Having always taken pride in herself, Mordred made sure that her scales were in pristine shape, shining like a star with every individial scale was what she aimed for, and self perfection was her greatest goal once she'd turned Twenty-three. No problems were to be found on her, and it was something she took pride in. In fact, she would not come out of hiding unless she was as clean as possible. This habit lessened as she grew into her fifties, but is still very present and she is often seen with shining scales, a rare event would be finding even a speck of dirt or imperfections on her scales.
It was very rare when Mordred met other dragons, but whenever it did happen she made sure of a stunning entrance. As a lone dragon, raised as such all her life, she cares very little towards dominance and submission, something that may need to be beaten into her a few times for it to click in her mind. She was always intrigued by other dragons, and may talk for hours, or a couple of minutes, before her attention turned to something else. The only true fight she'd ever been in was with a passing Barak, who was obviously in a bad mood and had swooped down while she had been basking. Neither of them won, the Barak thought better of the fight after they had exchanged a few blows, and left before it could be finished, giving Mordred the idea that she was more powerful than he.