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Description
Mangrove Colossus
ROOTODON

When it comes to life and living things, two things matter the most: species propagation and self-preservation. The former moved evolution forward, but the important part was that it hinged upon the latter. When it came to this aspect of life, there was one particular monster who knew about it more than any other, having known both ends of it in his lifetime. This monster's name was well known in the ancient tongue of the daikaiju circles since ancient times, and that name has since become Anglicized as Rootodon.
To put it most concisely, Rootodon is one of the most ancient kaiju there is, plain and simple. Growth rings from some of the root cuttings he has left behind have dated back to the late Triassic period, which says a lot about his character. Though about as old as they come, with all the nostalgic surliness it implies, his aging has come only very gradually and slowly, and as such he is capable of keeping up with the times more easily than most. Hibernating beneath the Earth's crust has helped him see through many of the rough and tumble events that the planet was put through - most notably the Triassic and Cretaceous extinctions, not to mention the Superwar that transpired in the human era. A question that permeates numerous curious "newbie" circles is how Rootodon managed to live for so long - species tend to survive for only a few million years, with some of those that have a lower than average metabolism topping out at around 10 million, give or take. Interestingly, Rootodon himself is essentially a limited-edition kaiju version of what sentients would refer to as a "hipster," meaning he has an appreciation for the unorthrodox in habitat and tastes. Since he prefers not to hang with the "mainstream" folk who duke it out in the surface world constantly, he has few allies, but those who are lucky enough to befriend him are treated with a respectful comraderie which has allowed them to discover some of his secrets. When asked about his longevity in particular, he responded with a wry chuckle through the permanent grin frozen on his face that he was familiar with nigh immortality before it was cool. To explain, the mana gland nestled within his chest, beneath the roots and ribs, created a special aura around him which served as an aging retardant, slowing down the degradation of genes and cells in his body and giving him the ability to survive longer at a lower metabolism, especially during hibernation. This is how he slept through the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs, for example, though on the other hand he was still roused by the mana carpet bombing that the Superwar inflicted upon most of the planet. Said aura was capable of expanding over a considerable distance and, wherever he passed by, aging, mutation, and evolution seemed to slow down by a noticeable margin, and whenever he settled into a particular area, the constant presence of the aura would cause aging, mutation, and evolution to all but entirely cease.
This anti-aging effect is, uncannily and perhaps not coincidentally, similar to the mana patterns of certain caverns housing prehistoric environments deep beneath certain uncivilized habitats in the subtropical and tropical realms. Rootodon in particular inhabited one of these Relic Caverns beneath what is now central America. It's quite possible that the massive phytosaur dug out the entrance to this particular cavern himself, maybe even before he acquired the plant matter on his back. The cavern was certainly big enough to house plenty of big game, with forests, plains, and a vast muddy river running from the mountains to a massive mangrove swamp and eventually even a pocket-edition sea on the other side of the cavern. Satisfied that he'd found something suitable to his tastes, Rootodon made himself at home in the mangrove swamp and went into his first hibernation. The plants, as though they had sensed that someone had finally arrived to protect the cavern, began embracing his slumbering form, taking hold upon his then scaly back and spreading their roots down his sides, anchoring around his ribs, and lashing themselves across his belly. Rootodon couldn't even feel the mangroves' gentle caresses through his tough scales, but he did subconsciously note the pick-me-up they provided as they donated their photosynthetic energy to sustain him indefinitely. Like modern crocodilians, Rootodon's species grew throughout their lifetime, and by the time he woke up sometime in the early Jurassic period, he noticed that he had taken a non-conventional route, ballooning from an abnormally large phytosaur into a truly monstrous, semi-serpentine being, his hind limbs degenerating as he started adapting to a semi-aquatic lifestyle, his forelimbs becoming more massive and powerfully muscled than usual, with roots growing over his front feet and forming massive ever-growing talons for burrowing. Additional roots formed extra "legs," to compensate for the loss of his hind limbs; he could slither like a great python through the muck long before such reptiles diverged from their lacertian kin, or unfold his roots and make sudden dashes and lunges on solid ground. Nitrogen-fixing root nodules decorated these roots and grew upon his skin, as well, making his plants more fertile and virile. Raised nostrils combined with eyes on the end of his long snout allowed him to peer over the water while he hunted, and sharp needle-like teeth and serrated tooth-projections helped to seize and dismember slippery prey. The plant life on his back sustained him through produced nutrients in periods of unsuccessful hunting and failed seasons, and if the swamps dried out, he could burrow into the soil and absorb groundwater through his root legs. Leaf-like fins lined his back and formed a paddle on his tail, allowing him to absorb as much sunlight and energy as possible while basking, and in combat they could stiffen into razor-blades to make strafing dangerous. He was content to remain in the hollow for long periods, and it was his home base for most of the Mesozoic, though he occasionally ventured out into the surface to dismiss it as being "mainstream" whilst scoping out activity in other RCs elsewhere. Most kaiju who interacted with him saw him as a loner by nature, who preferred only himself and his plants as company along with whatever fauna happened to move into his personal forest at the time. Those species that stuck with him when he returned to his home base reveled in the peaceful, bountiful conditions of the cavern, which became home to prehistoric species from all over the world, slowly evolving into newer and more powerful forms when he took up temporary residence elsewhere. Kaiju who associated with him tended to be categorized in his opinion into three different categories: Acquaintances, Neutral Parties, and Assholes. Acquaintances were those who knew how to treat him with the proper level of respect, frequently by aiding him against common enemies, and he treated them with an aloof but courteous tolerance, helping to protect them on occasion but preferring to stay out of their way until he was needed. Neutral Parties were exactly as the tin said, often leaving Rootodon alone or passing him by, and Rootodon likewise typically left them be unless neccessary. Assholes... were an entirely different matter. Not surprisingly, more than one monster managed to discover his secrets concerning longevity and wanted the gift for themselves, and a few others tried to followed him all the way back to his home base to plunder its resources. As was to be expected, most of these were treated with customary aggression, often warnings to stay away or else suffer the consequences. Some of them simply stormed off to wreak havoc elsewhere, but those were the lucky ones who got the first warning. Most of the others weren't so sensible, and their phytosaur-bullying efforts more often than not rewarded them with a lost limb or two - that or else endless rows of needle-like tooth marks often in places they couldn't reach. More than one offender was actually seized and dragged into the deeper part of the river, never to crawl back to shore. Stories of a giant long-snouted killer reptile disguised as a swamp forest thus started spreading from the often brutally maimed and scarred survivors of such encounters, and opinions regarding him became polarized during the Cretaceous period. Tiring of dealing with the controversy and not wanting to get embroiled in the worldwide Battle Royale he knew was sure to come, Rootodon decided to remain in his cavern and protect it from intruders, going so far as to seal up the entrance during the Cretaceous/Palaeogene extinction in case more Assholes decided to seek refuge there.
With the advent of the Cenozoic, a new set of challengers came around, and a new tournament for domination rose from the remains of the old. Descended from the ancestral mammals that had scurried in the treetops and burrowed beneath the earth back when the dinosaurs called the shots, these new types of beasts had heard of the many rumors from their overlords, including that killer swamp forest from when even they were still ancestral and tiny. In need of a stroll around the world once again to check out what the mainstream surface world was like nowadays, the great phytosaur decided to take the rumors into his own hands. Kaiju and other creatures that stayed out of his way were politely dismissed, and those that weren't ended up on the menu. Mammals and the surviving dinosaurs, the birds, were tough, mobile and persistent, testing his patience even though he always refused to be baited into a flat-out beatdown if he could avoid it. Not everything was furry or feathery in this new era, though. Rootodon was interested in the presence of giant reptiles on isolated islands and/or in habitats where warm-blooded creatures couldn't easily reach. Crocodilians in particular fascinated him, especially since many species very much resembled the phytosaurs he had descended from. They along with other reptiles were among the few animal groups he was willing to reach out to, and when the ice ages rolled in, he himself guided populations of some of the remaining species into the surviving Relic Caverns in the Americas. As for his own self-preservation, sleeping through the ice proved a wise move, but even in his slumber he always kept one eye open, in case anyone attempted a home invasion or two. Only about one species was capable of doing that, and even then, it took plenty of advanced technology and determination for the denizens of the human era to unlock the gates of the "underworld" they had heard about in legends of old. The cavern had already been opened by the time the Superwar carpet-bombed the planet with mana overdose, which finally piqued his interest, but he was content to stay in his own comfort zone for the time being even when Elixir Inc., the global medical and bioengineering company that had helped resolve certain parts of the human conflict, began investigating the rumors of a reptilian fountain of youth somewhere in Mexico. The residents of the cavern weren't exactly fond of the idea of such capitalizing on their guardian and they made that sentiment clear whenever people entered with the intent to "talk to the river god"; few survivors were recovered from such incidents and those that were swore off ever going into that cavern again. At least one instance led to Rootodon's direct intervention, and the unfortunate "expedition" (read: strip-mining and factory construction) team that had gone through the cavern's gates never even came back at all. The only times that third parties were able to return from the cavern alive were when they never even bothered with Rootodon at all, which is also how native peoples from the Aztec and Maya times were able to colonize a few locations in the cavern without getting curb-stomped to oblivion. Even with such activity, though the monster stayed put for the most part, swearing to remain where he was and protect his home territory. The only thing that could make him change his mind was if, by some improbable twist of fate, another monster showed up at his doorstep, one that could pose a notable threat not only to his own safety but also to that of the cavern's ecosystem as a whole.
On the morning of that fateful day, Rootodon was taking a short break off-duty in his private mud pool near where the river met the swamp, mentally speculating about what the humans and other sentient races would come up with for their next break in. He had just gotten to the part where they tried burning the forest down for farmland when a tremendous explosion shook the far side of the cavern and sent all the birds and pterosaurs in the area into fright. Next moment, the acrid smell of smoke wafted towards the pocket-sea and instantly roused the monster who barreled out into the river and swam upstream towards the source of the noise. What he found when he made landfall some two minutes later was the former nesting grounds of a perching rhamphorynchid species... or more specifically what was left of it, especially the massive smoking crater that now occupied its center. Rootodon was beginning to wonder what kind of sadistic ass would take a shit on his lawn like that when he heard a high-pitched screech and noticed a long, menacing shadow passing over him. The source of both swooped and landed upon a nearby cliff a moment later, and when Rootodon turned his head to see the newcomer, he suddenly felt an unsettling chill running down his spine. Perched upon the cliff, his leering red eyes peering down at the crater in a self-righteously satisfied smirk, was an enormous albino winged creature, combining the most uncanny aspects of crane, vulture, hummingbird, Pteranodon, and Velociraptor; the end result could have been considered either a disturbingly avian dragon or a disturbingly draconic bird. His torso was covered in snow-white plumage, like the wings of an angel, but his long scaly feet ended with talons shaped almost unnervingly like scaly human hands, tipped with huge curving claws. His wings, folded against his sides, sported pure white feathers covering the arms, but each wing itself consisted of a disgustingly pink membrane of leathery skin, supported by a single clawed wing finger and an elbow strut; the hands halfway down the wings had the same claws as the feet. The scaly, reptilian tail sported a row of long spines running down the back, with an arrowhead-shaped blade on the tip. The twin scythe-like metallic crests on the back of his head matched his long, slightly curved beak, which sported sharp pointed teeth that became progressively smaller going towards the tip before disappearing entirely, so that the last third of the beak formed a needle-pointed cross between forceps and a syringe. The dangling wattle, hanging from his neck like an ugly curtain of wrinkled pink flesh laced with blood vessels, wasn't there just for show: within his chest cavity, a pressurized gas bladder connected to his stomach created a deadly combustible gas which ignited upon exposure to oxygen, and inflating the wattle like a frigate bird's throat sac gave it enough pressure for the bird to exhale it with surprising force. He could shoot flamethrower-like blasts to create clouds of searing fog which drifted lazily with the wind for brief intervals before dissipating, suffocating and incinerating everything they blanketed in an instant, and by contracting the throat sac to compress the gas, he could also spit a more focused pellet that detonated upon impact, spreading the fire-fog over a considerable radius. It was the latter of these two methods that had caused the damage Rootodon had stumbled across, and perhaps not surprisingly, he was less than amused when the perpetrator cleared his throat and, trying to sound as polite and sincere as possible, asked Rootodon if he could move in with him.
The monster phytosaur took one look at the wreckage and back to the bird, and said flatly that he wasn't going to share his property with anyone who had no qualms about damaging it. This was his cavern after all and everyone else within its boundaries was expected to play by his rules. Those who didn't were declared too mainstream and ousted without much fanfare. This didn't sit well with the bird, who proclaimed that he had been through many fights to get here, and having lost most of them he needed someone to protect him from harm. This was a denied request as Rootodon stated that he was not interested in associating with anyone who visited his hollow, especially such an insufferable maniac who was willing to deface his turf and then switch to a lousy excuse of a sob-story just to get his attention. Exhaling a tiny cloud of Combustion Gas, the bird shaped it into elemental symbols with his beak, explaining that the swamp colossus represented water and earth, the magnificent avian fire and air; thus, each completed the other. Again, Rootodon said no, he already had enough power to go around and anyway, his experiences with power in the past had turned out poorly for both sides of the conversation. The bird's tone became increasingly desperate as he begged, pleaded, tried to strike a compromise with the reptilian colossus, but soon tiring of the pathetic whining coming from his tormentor's wretched beak, the latter finally told the former to go stick his head up someone else's ass before slithering back towards the river. He had barely taken two heaves of his forelimbs however when he heard an enraged screech and then felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of his neck, whirling to face the cliff once again. Having failed to really research Rootodon's personality and terms of tolerance before dropping in for a visit, the bird-dragon had taken that last remark as a personal insult; there went the last of his temper and, with a piercing cry of what he percieved as despaired neglect, he had swooped down from the cliff and dive-bombed the beast, the tip of his beak managing to jab into a chink in his armor through sheer dumb luck. The enraged Rootodon proceeded to fling the bird off of his back, sending him sprawling with a blow from his tail, and with an infuriated bellow, he charged at him with his jaws opened wide. The bird was faster than he had given him credit for, and with a single fluid motion of his legs he leaped right over the reptile, whose jaws closed just shy of his tail tip. Things took an ugly turn as this happened, as the bird's throat sac inflated and, clear of the dangerous parts, he freely blasted a gout of the Fire Fog onto Rootodon's back, setting his trees alight and spreading the flames with his wake. Humiliated and now on fire, Rootodon whirled and lunged at the bird once again, but being already airborne gave him the advantage he needed and, anticipating his move, he lashed out with his clawed feet and clamped the reptile's mouth shut. The sensation of superiority and the fact that he had something squirming under his feet sent a wave of euphoria through the white bird, who proceeded to flap his wings madly from the increased heart rate and actually managed to lift Rootodon's forequarters into the air. Incensed at this treatment, the heavier and stronger Rootodon managed to swing his head downwards and throw off the bird, who started cackling at his expense and expressed regret that his opponent's feet were too heavily armored to "nibble." Still rearing up like a great cobra, braced on his root limbs, Rootodon decided aloud to make the bird find out the hard way if that was true and attempted to swat him out of the sky with his forefeet. Another stabbing pain, this time upon the underside of his clawed left foot, shot through the whole limb and stopped him short. He hadn't expected the bird to actually forsee the attack, neatly sidestep it, and thrust his beak right between two of his guard-roots and into the flesh beneath. Remarking that the agony of the feet was fine too, the bird began siphoning Rootodon's blood from the affected spot, and at the same time started raking cruel gashes into the reptile's softer throat and chest with his foot claws and furiously stabbing at the same spots with his tail tip, each sensation giving him an aroused jolt as Rootodon's blood started flowing freely. The phytosaur didn't know what to think as he grappled with his enemy: he was at the same time annoyed, unsettled, baffled and, to his own surprise, a little afraid. He didn't know which was more disturbing, the bird's hard-on for the distal portions of monster limbs, his rapacious thirst for blood and carnage, or the fact that he was actually able to match him blow for blow despite being thoroughly outmatched in terms of both abilities and sheer physical power. Still burning alive and now gradually losing blood, Rootodon looked around desperately for a solution and noticed the river just twenty meters away from them. Thrusting his tail tip into a soft spot near the base of Rootodon's jaw, the bird asked if the reptile was afraid to fight dirty at that point, upon which the reptile's eyes narrowed and he retorted that he'd fought dirty before it was cool... before flinging them both into the water and death-rolling like he'd seen his evolutionary nieces and nephews do. To use the expression, this effectively killed two birds with one stone, both dislodging his enemy and putting out the fire that had been mere inches from burning into his skin. Stunned and thrown for a loop, the bird couldn't make heads or tails of himself as he tried to paddle towards the surface, only to be rammed in the chest by the phytosaur's snout and forced into the deeper part of the river. Rootodon turned away from the bird and started slowly paddling off, giving the winged monster time to surface and the impression that his enemy had tired of him and headed off elsewhere. The bird was dead wrong as Rootdon did a 180 and barreled straight towards him at maximum speed. Deciding to make a fun little bit of irony, Rootodon dived slightly and clamped his jaws over the bird's left foot before deathrolling it clean off, at the same time erecting the leaf-fins on his back to cut open his belly, sending the bird spinning in agony and terror as his blood turned the brownish water red. The second pass struck the bird's other leg around the shin, tearing it off partway at the knee before Rootodon let go and spun round for a third time. In a state of panic, the bird inflated his throat sac, attempting to bluff his way out, but the phytosaur surged forth and snapped his jaws around his neck before deathrolling a fourth time, tearing open the throat wattle and sending Combustion Gas leaking out as, playing his final trump card, the bird concentrated all his thermal energy and unleashed it just as Rootodon spun in the water. In an incredible sight, the river exploded into a shower of flaming tongues, sending sparks and fireballs towards the roof of the cavern in a column of light and heat. Said column erupted into a pillar of steam which burst open to reveal a white fiery Pteranodon/crane hybrid miraculously *cough* managing to get airborne just as the Mangrove Colossus erupted from the water after him, his jaws closing just shy of his remaining ground-locomotion limb. With one foot gone and the other leg coming off its sinews and tumbling across the charred remains of the forest, the bird streaked off like a comet, crowing that he would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of his defeat and return to settle the score. Rootodon emerged from the water, seething that he hadn't gotten the final say, when his leaf fins and root nodules began to glow an ominous yellow. His eyes lit up as the fleeing bird, still screeching insults at the reptile and wailing about how he had been nearly struck down by a "stuck-up, cold-blooded, heartless forest of dicks", suddenly came into focus clear as day. Rootodon was practically running on empty by this point but he knew this was his last chance to stop the bird becoming someone else's problem and, with a roar of fury, the reptile let 'er rip with a beam of solar energy that sliced through the sky like a laser cutter on steroids. He had intended to shoot the bird down and let him rot in obscurity, but he got a bit more than he'd bargained for as the Solar Cutter sliced off the bird's right wing close to the elbow joint and sent him spinning out of control with an earsplitting scream. Gravity and supersonic intertia did the rest as the bird plowed into the ground like a fighter plane with a blown engine, which wasn't a bad analogy as he crashed like one too. His long beak jamming into the ground, his head came off his neck first and cartwheeled across the ground before coming to a halt right in front of one of the sentient villages bearing witness to the incident. His body was less fortunate as the remaining wing was torn from the shoulder and shredded to pink confetti and puffy white down, his tail following suit and spinning down the side of a hill before tumbling into a canyon. His body was rent to pieces as it tumbled over the debris-dotted field he had crash-landed into, his ribcage ripped open and his spine snapped and smashed in every way imaginable. Steaming entrails and bits of white plumage were flung over a considerable distance as the body cartwheeled all the way to the entrance side of the cavern, colliding with the wall ironically near the entrance which he had apparently gouged open with his claws. The Combustion Gas bladder that had been protected by the rest of the organs up to this point finally ruptured upon impact, the resultant explosion briefly lighting up the cavern like a second sun. The spectacle was over as quickly as it had began, but the carnage was unmistakeable and ironically fitting as creatures for miles around came out to see the aftermath of the crash. Rootodon himself, having witnessed the entire disaster in stunned disbelief, eventually snorted that the bird had finally gotten the attention he craved, albeit in a way he hadn't expected, and that he himself wished someone just as idiotic would turn up just so he could impale them with the bird's skull. On that note he turned away, not even bothering to clean up the mess, and headed back to his private mud wallow to reflect everything that had transpired.
This bird... was definitely a foreigner by the looks of it, and a seriously loose screw of one at that. He had never seen anything like him, especially not anything so disturbing and just plain wrong. What would the outside world send him next, what new threats would he have to take care of before they decide to destroy the cavern? Despicable as he was, for obvious reasons, the bird was a pushover, but Rootodon had a feeling that the next visitor to the cavern wouldn't be so easy to handle. And even if newcomers knew better than to pay him an unwanted visit, he realized that sooner or later, things would have to change in the overworld, and the bird-dragon was proof of that. Rootodon now realized that monotony and the routine would quickly become tiresome - after all, why did he think he went to the surface in the first place every once in a while? It took him an evening to sleep it over as per the norm, but as soon as he woke up the next day, he knew he'd made his decision. It was about time that Rootodon emerge to dismiss the surface world as being too mainstream once again, and that would be the time for other kaiju to be on the lookout and make sure they didn't try any bird-shit under his watch, or even when they thought he wasn't looking. So it was with that lofty but tolerant dignity of his - and a lot of heaving and pulling from his roots and limbs - that the Mangrove Colossus hauled his way up to the entrance of the Relic Cavern he knew he was going to miss in short order. Just before he made his way through the opening leading to the outside, turning his gaze behind him to take in one last look at the home he had maintained ever since the time of the dinosaur, he made a point to deliberatly avoid noticing the part of the overworld's shadow aspect that had left its mark upon it, whose strewn remains, now unable to bask in the attention they were finally receiving, continued to smolder upon its door.

For ~Ravensaurs-Rex 's contest. I noticed that the living swamp theme wasn't experimented with yet even though the croc-log connection is pretty hard to miss. Besides, Rutiodon has "root" in his name phoenetically so that works too. I think I really outdid myself with this one in terms of detail, especially in terms of scalation and plant texture. Anyway, some important things to note:

Rootodon's main passive ability, the Fountain of Youth, essentially slows down aging of both himself and living things around him. It's great for living a really long time and preserving species that would've gone extinct at the normal rate of evolution. However, since it slows down cell breakdown, it also slows down the effects of regeneration and other means of health recovery, which is one reason why his hide is so well armored.
Speaking of his armored hide, it's earth-toned and extremely strong, since kaiju in the Waller category of combat tend to have good defense to shrug off enemy attacks. The bark armor plates on his back are dark brown, the leathery side and tail plates a lighter mud-brown; both are extremely hard to pierce. The pebbly scales on the underside are a dull yellowish tan, and though strong they are easier to get past if you can poke between them with something sharp.
He's easily in the Heavyweight range, as he's long-bodied, powerful, and heavily muscled. It's hard to tell the exact size because he grows gradually over time, but the most recent length estimates would be about 730 to 750 feet long, and he tips the scales at about 26- to 28,000 tons or so.
The plants on his back, naturally, provide energy in the same way that Mizea's does. Unlike that monster, though, they can also absorb energy attacks and power him up further, with the Solar Cutter being the logical conclusion of this (I'll get to that later). It's deconstructed in that their position on his back makes them vulnerable, and if they're damaged, he won't be able to absorb sunlight or energy as effectively, so burning the stuff off is a great way to slow him down. The leaves are a mottled mix of forest and grass green, while the bark, branches and roots are a duller grayish green, and the root nodules are a brighter but still slightly grayish shade of yellow.
Rootodon is an excellent burrower, which is why he kept those forelimbs (note that the other "limbs" are just tangles of roots, only the first pair consists of true limbs). The long snout is reinforced and armor-plated, and bony eyelids protect his eyes when he punches through the soil with his face.
He's also an accomplished swimmer, as you can guess. He retracts his roots when he swims to reduce water resistance, undulating his tail and steering with his forelimbs.
Those are some surprisingly powerful jaws despite their narrow shape - he needs a strong bite to punch through the scales of the big fishies he eats. Said jaw shape makes them ill-suited for flesh-tearing, though, so he clamps down on your feet and death-rolls them off.
The leaf fins on his back and tail are there to absorb sunlight for his own purposes, though they also help him swim and have sharp edges to cut exposed flesh. They're a dull olive green, though they turn a brighter shade of green when angered.
The Solar Cutter is his long-range finisher and his weapon of last resort. Absorbing sunlight and other energy through his plants and fins, his fins, root nodules, and leaves glow an ominous yellow before he focuses the energy into a devastating beam from his eyes, which are color-coded a vivid yellow for your convenience. The Solar Cutter is powerful and long-ranging but also takes up a lot of energy, and actually causes his back plants to wilt immediately after use. At full charge, he can keep the Cutter going for just enough time to cripple a Heavyweight kaiju, or slice a Middleweight in half.
Regarding his personality, I like to think he prefers to dismiss the typical tropes of modern-day kaiju fights as being "old", but also tolerates those that help see him through a fight. He may be dismissive and somewhat snobbish, but he knows his limits and is willing to respect other monsters who help him against a common foe or otherwise have similar motives. He also doesn't do city-smashing, it's too mainstream. To befriend him, get an interest or ability that he hasn't seen before and he'll gladly help you out; otherwise, just stay out of his way and you'll be fine.

Whew, well that was fun. I'll remember to find a place for him in KK, but for now, I hope you enjoy this beastie and his history as much as I did making them.

Description
Mangrove Colossus
ROOTODON

When it comes to life and living things, two things matter the most: species propagation and self-preservation. The former moved evolution forward, but the important part was that it hinged upon the latter. When it came to this aspect of life, there was one particular monster who knew about it more than any other, having known both ends of it in his lifetime. This monster's name was well known in the ancient tongue of the daikaiju circles since ancient times, and that name has since become Anglicized as Rootodon.
To put it most concisely, Rootodon is one of the most ancient kaiju there is, plain and simple. Growth rings from some of the root cuttings he has left behind have dated back to the late Triassic period, which says a lot about his character. Though about as old as they come, with all the nostalgic surliness it implies, his aging has come only very gradually and slowly, and as such he is capable of keeping up with the times more easily than most. Hibernating beneath the Earth's crust has helped him see through many of the rough and tumble events that the planet was put through - most notably the Triassic and Cretaceous extinctions, not to mention the Superwar that transpired in the human era. A question that permeates numerous curious "newbie" circles is how Rootodon managed to live for so long - species tend to survive for only a few million years, with some of those that have a lower than average metabolism topping out at around 10 million, give or take. Interestingly, Rootodon himself is essentially a limited-edition kaiju version of what sentients would refer to as a "hipster," meaning he has an appreciation for the unorthrodox in habitat and tastes. Since he prefers not to hang with the "mainstream" folk who duke it out in the surface world constantly, he has few allies, but those who are lucky enough to befriend him are treated with a respectful comraderie which has allowed them to discover some of his secrets. When asked about his longevity in particular, he responded with a wry chuckle through the permanent grin frozen on his face that he was familiar with nigh immortality before it was cool. To explain, the mana gland nestled within his chest, beneath the roots and ribs, created a special aura around him which served as an aging retardant, slowing down the degradation of genes and cells in his body and giving him the ability to survive longer at a lower metabolism, especially during hibernation. This is how he slept through the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs, for example, though on the other hand he was still roused by the mana carpet bombing that the Superwar inflicted upon most of the planet. Said aura was capable of expanding over a considerable distance and, wherever he passed by, aging, mutation, and evolution seemed to slow down by a noticeable margin, and whenever he settled into a particular area, the constant presence of the aura would cause aging, mutation, and evolution to all but entirely cease.
This anti-aging effect is, uncannily and perhaps not coincidentally, similar to the mana patterns of certain caverns housing prehistoric environments deep beneath certain uncivilized habitats in the subtropical and tropical realms. Rootodon in particular inhabited one of these Relic Caverns beneath what is now central America. It's quite possible that the massive phytosaur dug out the entrance to this particular cavern himself, maybe even before he acquired the plant matter on his back. The cavern was certainly big enough to house plenty of big game, with forests, plains, and a vast muddy river running from the mountains to a massive mangrove swamp and eventually even a pocket-edition sea on the other side of the cavern. Satisfied that he'd found something suitable to his tastes, Rootodon made himself at home in the mangrove swamp and went into his first hibernation. The plants, as though they had sensed that someone had finally arrived to protect the cavern, began embracing his slumbering form, taking hold upon his then scaly back and spreading their roots down his sides, anchoring around his ribs, and lashing themselves across his belly. Rootodon couldn't even feel the mangroves' gentle caresses through his tough scales, but he did subconsciously note the pick-me-up they provided as they donated their photosynthetic energy to sustain him indefinitely. Like modern crocodilians, Rootodon's species grew throughout their lifetime, and by the time he woke up sometime in the early Jurassic period, he noticed that he had taken a non-conventional route, ballooning from an abnormally large phytosaur into a truly monstrous, semi-serpentine being, his hind limbs degenerating as he started adapting to a semi-aquatic lifestyle, his forelimbs becoming more massive and powerfully muscled than usual, with roots growing over his front feet and forming massive ever-growing talons for burrowing. Additional roots formed extra "legs," to compensate for the loss of his hind limbs; he could slither like a great python through the muck long before such reptiles diverged from their lacertian kin, or unfold his roots and make sudden dashes and lunges on solid ground. Nitrogen-fixing root nodules decorated these roots and grew upon his skin, as well, making his plants more fertile and virile. Raised nostrils combined with eyes on the end of his long snout allowed him to peer over the water while he hunted, and sharp needle-like teeth and serrated tooth-projections helped to seize and dismember slippery prey. The plant life on his back sustained him through produced nutrients in periods of unsuccessful hunting and failed seasons, and if the swamps dried out, he could burrow into the soil and absorb groundwater through his root legs. Leaf-like fins lined his back and formed a paddle on his tail, allowing him to absorb as much sunlight and energy as possible while basking, and in combat they could stiffen into razor-blades to make strafing dangerous. He was content to remain in the hollow for long periods, and it was his home base for most of the Mesozoic, though he occasionally ventured out into the surface to dismiss it as being "mainstream" whilst scoping out activity in other RCs elsewhere. Most kaiju who interacted with him saw him as a loner by nature, who preferred only himself and his plants as company along with whatever fauna happened to move into his personal forest at the time. Those species that stuck with him when he returned to his home base reveled in the peaceful, bountiful conditions of the cavern, which became home to prehistoric species from all over the world, slowly evolving into newer and more powerful forms when he took up temporary residence elsewhere. Kaiju who associated with him tended to be categorized in his opinion into three different categories: Acquaintances, Neutral Parties, and Assholes. Acquaintances were those who knew how to treat him with the proper level of respect, frequently by aiding him against common enemies, and he treated them with an aloof but courteous tolerance, helping to protect them on occasion but preferring to stay out of their way until he was needed. Neutral Parties were exactly as the tin said, often leaving Rootodon alone or passing him by, and Rootodon likewise typically left them be unless neccessary. Assholes... were an entirely different matter. Not surprisingly, more than one monster managed to discover his secrets concerning longevity and wanted the gift for themselves, and a few others tried to followed him all the way back to his home base to plunder its resources. As was to be expected, most of these were treated with customary aggression, often warnings to stay away or else suffer the consequences. Some of them simply stormed off to wreak havoc elsewhere, but those were the lucky ones who got the first warning. Most of the others weren't so sensible, and their phytosaur-bullying efforts more often than not rewarded them with a lost limb or two - that or else endless rows of needle-like tooth marks often in places they couldn't reach. More than one offender was actually seized and dragged into the deeper part of the river, never to crawl back to shore. Stories of a giant long-snouted killer reptile disguised as a swamp forest thus started spreading from the often brutally maimed and scarred survivors of such encounters, and opinions regarding him became polarized during the Cretaceous period. Tiring of dealing with the controversy and not wanting to get embroiled in the worldwide Battle Royale he knew was sure to come, Rootodon decided to remain in his cavern and protect it from intruders, going so far as to seal up the entrance during the Cretaceous/Palaeogene extinction in case more Assholes decided to seek refuge there.
With the advent of the Cenozoic, a new set of challengers came around, and a new tournament for domination rose from the remains of the old. Descended from the ancestral mammals that had scurried in the treetops and burrowed beneath the earth back when the dinosaurs called the shots, these new types of beasts had heard of the many rumors from their overlords, including that killer swamp forest from when even they were still ancestral and tiny. In need of a stroll around the world once again to check out what the mainstream surface world was like nowadays, the great phytosaur decided to take the rumors into his own hands. Kaiju and other creatures that stayed out of his way were politely dismissed, and those that weren't ended up on the menu. Mammals and the surviving dinosaurs, the birds, were tough, mobile and persistent, testing his patience even though he always refused to be baited into a flat-out beatdown if he could avoid it. Not everything was furry or feathery in this new era, though. Rootodon was interested in the presence of giant reptiles on isolated islands and/or in habitats where warm-blooded creatures couldn't easily reach. Crocodilians in particular fascinated him, especially since many species very much resembled the phytosaurs he had descended from. They along with other reptiles were among the few animal groups he was willing to reach out to, and when the ice ages rolled in, he himself guided populations of some of the remaining species into the surviving Relic Caverns in the Americas. As for his own self-preservation, sleeping through the ice proved a wise move, but even in his slumber he always kept one eye open, in case anyone attempted a home invasion or two. Only about one species was capable of doing that, and even then, it took plenty of advanced technology and determination for the denizens of the human era to unlock the gates of the "underworld" they had heard about in legends of old. The cavern had already been opened by the time the Superwar carpet-bombed the planet with mana overdose, which finally piqued his interest, but he was content to stay in his own comfort zone for the time being even when Elixir Inc., the global medical and bioengineering company that had helped resolve certain parts of the human conflict, began investigating the rumors of a reptilian fountain of youth somewhere in Mexico. The residents of the cavern weren't exactly fond of the idea of such capitalizing on their guardian and they made that sentiment clear whenever people entered with the intent to "talk to the river god"; few survivors were recovered from such incidents and those that were swore off ever going into that cavern again. At least one instance led to Rootodon's direct intervention, and the unfortunate "expedition" (read: strip-mining and factory construction) team that had gone through the cavern's gates never even came back at all. The only times that third parties were able to return from the cavern alive were when they never even bothered with Rootodon at all, which is also how native peoples from the Aztec and Maya times were able to colonize a few locations in the cavern without getting curb-stomped to oblivion. Even with such activity, though the monster stayed put for the most part, swearing to remain where he was and protect his home territory. The only thing that could make him change his mind was if, by some improbable twist of fate, another monster showed up at his doorstep, one that could pose a notable threat not only to his own safety but also to that of the cavern's ecosystem as a whole.
On the morning of that fateful day, Rootodon was taking a short break off-duty in his private mud pool near where the river met the swamp, mentally speculating about what the humans and other sentient races would come up with for their next break in. He had just gotten to the part where they tried burning the forest down for farmland when a tremendous explosion shook the far side of the cavern and sent all the birds and pterosaurs in the area into fright. Next moment, the acrid smell of smoke wafted towards the pocket-sea and instantly roused the monster who barreled out into the river and swam upstream towards the source of the noise. What he found when he made landfall some two minutes later was the former nesting grounds of a perching rhamphorynchid species... or more specifically what was left of it, especially the massive smoking crater that now occupied its center. Rootodon was beginning to wonder what kind of sadistic ass would take a shit on his lawn like that when he heard a high-pitched screech and noticed a long, menacing shadow passing over him. The source of both swooped and landed upon a nearby cliff a moment later, and when Rootodon turned his head to see the newcomer, he suddenly felt an unsettling chill running down his spine. Perched upon the cliff, his leering red eyes peering down at the crater in a self-righteously satisfied smirk, was an enormous albino winged creature, combining the most uncanny aspects of crane, vulture, hummingbird, Pteranodon, and Velociraptor; the end result could have been considered either a disturbingly avian dragon or a disturbingly draconic bird. His torso was covered in snow-white plumage, like the wings of an angel, but his long scaly feet ended with talons shaped almost unnervingly like scaly human hands, tipped with huge curving claws. His wings, folded against his sides, sported pure white feathers covering the arms, but each wing itself consisted of a disgustingly pink membrane of leathery skin, supported by a single clawed wing finger and an elbow strut; the hands halfway down the wings had the same claws as the feet. The scaly, reptilian tail sported a row of long spines running down the back, with an arrowhead-shaped blade on the tip. The twin scythe-like metallic crests on the back of his head matched his long, slightly curved beak, which sported sharp pointed teeth that became progressively smaller going towards the tip before disappearing entirely, so that the last third of the beak formed a needle-pointed cross between forceps and a syringe. The dangling wattle, hanging from his neck like an ugly curtain of wrinkled pink flesh laced with blood vessels, wasn't there just for show: within his chest cavity, a pressurized gas bladder connected to his stomach created a deadly combustible gas which ignited upon exposure to oxygen, and inflating the wattle like a frigate bird's throat sac gave it enough pressure for the bird to exhale it with surprising force. He could shoot flamethrower-like blasts to create clouds of searing fog which drifted lazily with the wind for brief intervals before dissipating, suffocating and incinerating everything they blanketed in an instant, and by contracting the throat sac to compress the gas, he could also spit a more focused pellet that detonated upon impact, spreading the fire-fog over a considerable radius. It was the latter of these two methods that had caused the damage Rootodon had stumbled across, and perhaps not surprisingly, he was less than amused when the perpetrator cleared his throat and, trying to sound as polite and sincere as possible, asked Rootodon if he could move in with him.
The monster phytosaur took one look at the wreckage and back to the bird, and said flatly that he wasn't going to share his property with anyone who had no qualms about damaging it. This was his cavern after all and everyone else within its boundaries was expected to play by his rules. Those who didn't were declared too mainstream and ousted without much fanfare. This didn't sit well with the bird, who proclaimed that he had been through many fights to get here, and having lost most of them he needed someone to protect him from harm. This was a denied request as Rootodon stated that he was not interested in associating with anyone who visited his hollow, especially such an insufferable maniac who was willing to deface his turf and then switch to a lousy excuse of a sob-story just to get his attention. Exhaling a tiny cloud of Combustion Gas, the bird shaped it into elemental symbols with his beak, explaining that the swamp colossus represented water and earth, the magnificent avian fire and air; thus, each completed the other. Again, Rootodon said no, he already had enough power to go around and anyway, his experiences with power in the past had turned out poorly for both sides of the conversation. The bird's tone became increasingly desperate as he begged, pleaded, tried to strike a compromise with the reptilian colossus, but soon tiring of the pathetic whining coming from his tormentor's wretched beak, the latter finally told the former to go stick his head up someone else's ass before slithering back towards the river. He had barely taken two heaves of his forelimbs however when he heard an enraged screech and then felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of his neck, whirling to face the cliff once again. Having failed to really research Rootodon's personality and terms of tolerance before dropping in for a visit, the bird-dragon had taken that last remark as a personal insult; there went the last of his temper and, with a piercing cry of what he percieved as despaired neglect, he had swooped down from the cliff and dive-bombed the beast, the tip of his beak managing to jab into a chink in his armor through sheer dumb luck. The enraged Rootodon proceeded to fling the bird off of his back, sending him sprawling with a blow from his tail, and with an infuriated bellow, he charged at him with his jaws opened wide. The bird was faster than he had given him credit for, and with a single fluid motion of his legs he leaped right over the reptile, whose jaws closed just shy of his tail tip. Things took an ugly turn as this happened, as the bird's throat sac inflated and, clear of the dangerous parts, he freely blasted a gout of the Fire Fog onto Rootodon's back, setting his trees alight and spreading the flames with his wake. Humiliated and now on fire, Rootodon whirled and lunged at the bird once again, but being already airborne gave him the advantage he needed and, anticipating his move, he lashed out with his clawed feet and clamped the reptile's mouth shut. The sensation of superiority and the fact that he had something squirming under his feet sent a wave of euphoria through the white bird, who proceeded to flap his wings madly from the increased heart rate and actually managed to lift Rootodon's forequarters into the air. Incensed at this treatment, the heavier and stronger Rootodon managed to swing his head downwards and throw off the bird, who started cackling at his expense and expressed regret that his opponent's feet were too heavily armored to "nibble." Still rearing up like a great cobra, braced on his root limbs, Rootodon decided aloud to make the bird find out the hard way if that was true and attempted to swat him out of the sky with his forefeet. Another stabbing pain, this time upon the underside of his clawed left foot, shot through the whole limb and stopped him short. He hadn't expected the bird to actually forsee the attack, neatly sidestep it, and thrust his beak right between two of his guard-roots and into the flesh beneath. Remarking that the agony of the feet was fine too, the bird began siphoning Rootodon's blood from the affected spot, and at the same time started raking cruel gashes into the reptile's softer throat and chest with his foot claws and furiously stabbing at the same spots with his tail tip, each sensation giving him an aroused jolt as Rootodon's blood started flowing freely. The phytosaur didn't know what to think as he grappled with his enemy: he was at the same time annoyed, unsettled, baffled and, to his own surprise, a little afraid. He didn't know which was more disturbing, the bird's hard-on for the distal portions of monster limbs, his rapacious thirst for blood and carnage, or the fact that he was actually able to match him blow for blow despite being thoroughly outmatched in terms of both abilities and sheer physical power. Still burning alive and now gradually losing blood, Rootodon looked around desperately for a solution and noticed the river just twenty meters away from them. Thrusting his tail tip into a soft spot near the base of Rootodon's jaw, the bird asked if the reptile was afraid to fight dirty at that point, upon which the reptile's eyes narrowed and he retorted that he'd fought dirty before it was cool... before flinging them both into the water and death-rolling like he'd seen his evolutionary nieces and nephews do. To use the expression, this effectively killed two birds with one stone, both dislodging his enemy and putting out the fire that had been mere inches from burning into his skin. Stunned and thrown for a loop, the bird couldn't make heads or tails of himself as he tried to paddle towards the surface, only to be rammed in the chest by the phytosaur's snout and forced into the deeper part of the river. Rootodon turned away from the bird and started slowly paddling off, giving the winged monster time to surface and the impression that his enemy had tired of him and headed off elsewhere. The bird was dead wrong as Rootdon did a 180 and barreled straight towards him at maximum speed. Deciding to make a fun little bit of irony, Rootodon dived slightly and clamped his jaws over the bird's left foot before deathrolling it clean off, at the same time erecting the leaf-fins on his back to cut open his belly, sending the bird spinning in agony and terror as his blood turned the brownish water red. The second pass struck the bird's other leg around the shin, tearing it off partway at the knee before Rootodon let go and spun round for a third time. In a state of panic, the bird inflated his throat sac, attempting to bluff his way out, but the phytosaur surged forth and snapped his jaws around his neck before deathrolling a fourth time, tearing open the throat wattle and sending Combustion Gas leaking out as, playing his final trump card, the bird concentrated all his thermal energy and unleashed it just as Rootodon spun in the water. In an incredible sight, the river exploded into a shower of flaming tongues, sending sparks and fireballs towards the roof of the cavern in a column of light and heat. Said column erupted into a pillar of steam which burst open to reveal a white fiery Pteranodon/crane hybrid miraculously *cough* managing to get airborne just as the Mangrove Colossus erupted from the water after him, his jaws closing just shy of his remaining ground-locomotion limb. With one foot gone and the other leg coming off its sinews and tumbling across the charred remains of the forest, the bird streaked off like a comet, crowing that he would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of his defeat and return to settle the score. Rootodon emerged from the water, seething that he hadn't gotten the final say, when his leaf fins and root nodules began to glow an ominous yellow. His eyes lit up as the fleeing bird, still screeching insults at the reptile and wailing about how he had been nearly struck down by a "stuck-up, cold-blooded, heartless forest of dicks", suddenly came into focus clear as day. Rootodon was practically running on empty by this point but he knew this was his last chance to stop the bird becoming someone else's problem and, with a roar of fury, the reptile let 'er rip with a beam of solar energy that sliced through the sky like a laser cutter on steroids. He had intended to shoot the bird down and let him rot in obscurity, but he got a bit more than he'd bargained for as the Solar Cutter sliced off the bird's right wing close to the elbow joint and sent him spinning out of control with an earsplitting scream. Gravity and supersonic intertia did the rest as the bird plowed into the ground like a fighter plane with a blown engine, which wasn't a bad analogy as he crashed like one too. His long beak jamming into the ground, his head came off his neck first and cartwheeled across the ground before coming to a halt right in front of one of the sentient villages bearing witness to the incident. His body was less fortunate as the remaining wing was torn from the shoulder and shredded to pink confetti and puffy white down, his tail following suit and spinning down the side of a hill before tumbling into a canyon. His body was rent to pieces as it tumbled over the debris-dotted field he had crash-landed into, his ribcage ripped open and his spine snapped and smashed in every way imaginable. Steaming entrails and bits of white plumage were flung over a considerable distance as the body cartwheeled all the way to the entrance side of the cavern, colliding with the wall ironically near the entrance which he had apparently gouged open with his claws. The Combustion Gas bladder that had been protected by the rest of the organs up to this point finally ruptured upon impact, the resultant explosion briefly lighting up the cavern like a second sun. The spectacle was over as quickly as it had began, but the carnage was unmistakeable and ironically fitting as creatures for miles around came out to see the aftermath of the crash. Rootodon himself, having witnessed the entire disaster in stunned disbelief, eventually snorted that the bird had finally gotten the attention he craved, albeit in a way he hadn't expected, and that he himself wished someone just as idiotic would turn up just so he could impale them with the bird's skull. On that note he turned away, not even bothering to clean up the mess, and headed back to his private mud wallow to reflect everything that had transpired.
This bird... was definitely a foreigner by the looks of it, and a seriously loose screw of one at that. He had never seen anything like him, especially not anything so disturbing and just plain wrong. What would the outside world send him next, what new threats would he have to take care of before they decide to destroy the cavern? Despicable as he was, for obvious reasons, the bird was a pushover, but Rootodon had a feeling that the next visitor to the cavern wouldn't be so easy to handle. And even if newcomers knew better than to pay him an unwanted visit, he realized that sooner or later, things would have to change in the overworld, and the bird-dragon was proof of that. Rootodon now realized that monotony and the routine would quickly become tiresome - after all, why did he think he went to the surface in the first place every once in a while? It took him an evening to sleep it over as per the norm, but as soon as he woke up the next day, he knew he'd made his decision. It was about time that Rootodon emerge to dismiss the surface world as being too mainstream once again, and that would be the time for other kaiju to be on the lookout and make sure they didn't try any bird-shit under his watch, or even when they thought he wasn't looking. So it was with that lofty but tolerant dignity of his - and a lot of heaving and pulling from his roots and limbs - that the Mangrove Colossus hauled his way up to the entrance of the Relic Cavern he knew he was going to miss in short order. Just before he made his way through the opening leading to the outside, turning his gaze behind him to take in one last look at the home he had maintained ever since the time of the dinosaur, he made a point to deliberatly avoid noticing the part of the overworld's shadow aspect that had left its mark upon it, whose strewn remains, now unable to bask in the attention they were finally receiving, continued to smolder upon its door.

For ~Ravensaurs-Rex 's contest. I noticed that the living swamp theme wasn't experimented with yet even though the croc-log connection is pretty hard to miss. Besides, Rutiodon has "root" in his name phoenetically so that works too. I think I really outdid myself with this one in terms of detail, especially in terms of scalation and plant texture. Anyway, some important things to note:

Rootodon's main passive ability, the Fountain of Youth, essentially slows down aging of both himself and living things around him. It's great for living a really long time and preserving species that would've gone extinct at the normal rate of evolution. However, since it slows down cell breakdown, it also slows down the effects of regeneration and other means of health recovery, which is one reason why his hide is so well armored.
Speaking of his armored hide, it's earth-toned and extremely strong, since kaiju in the Waller category of combat tend to have good defense to shrug off enemy attacks. The bark armor plates on his back are dark brown, the leathery side and tail plates a lighter mud-brown; both are extremely hard to pierce. The pebbly scales on the underside are a dull yellowish tan, and though strong they are easier to get past if you can poke between them with something sharp.
He's easily in the Heavyweight range, as he's long-bodied, powerful, and heavily muscled. It's hard to tell the exact size because he grows gradually over time, but the most recent length estimates would be about 730 to 750 feet long, and he tips the scales at about 26- to 28,000 tons or so.
The plants on his back, naturally, provide energy in the same way that Mizea's does. Unlike that monster, though, they can also absorb energy attacks and power him up further, with the Solar Cutter being the logical conclusion of this (I'll get to that later). It's deconstructed in that their position on his back makes them vulnerable, and if they're damaged, he won't be able to absorb sunlight or energy as effectively, so burning the stuff off is a great way to slow him down. The leaves are a mottled mix of forest and grass green, while the bark, branches and roots are a duller grayish green, and the root nodules are a brighter but still slightly grayish shade of yellow.
Rootodon is an excellent burrower, which is why he kept those forelimbs (note that the other "limbs" are just tangles of roots, only the first pair consists of true limbs). The long snout is reinforced and armor-plated, and bony eyelids protect his eyes when he punches through the soil with his face.
He's also an accomplished swimmer, as you can guess. He retracts his roots when he swims to reduce water resistance, undulating his tail and steering with his forelimbs.
Those are some surprisingly powerful jaws despite their narrow shape - he needs a strong bite to punch through the scales of the big fishies he eats. Said jaw shape makes them ill-suited for flesh-tearing, though, so he clamps down on your feet and death-rolls them off.
The leaf fins on his back and tail are there to absorb sunlight for his own purposes, though they also help him swim and have sharp edges to cut exposed flesh. They're a dull olive green, though they turn a brighter shade of green when angered.
The Solar Cutter is his long-range finisher and his weapon of last resort. Absorbing sunlight and other energy through his plants and fins, his fins, root nodules, and leaves glow an ominous yellow before he focuses the energy into a devastating beam from his eyes, which are color-coded a vivid yellow for your convenience. The Solar Cutter is powerful and long-ranging but also takes up a lot of energy, and actually causes his back plants to wilt immediately after use. At full charge, he can keep the Cutter going for just enough time to cripple a Heavyweight kaiju, or slice a Middleweight in half.
Regarding his personality, I like to think he prefers to dismiss the typical tropes of modern-day kaiju fights as being "old", but also tolerates those that help see him through a fight. He may be dismissive and somewhat snobbish, but he knows his limits and is willing to respect other monsters who help him against a common foe or otherwise have similar motives. He also doesn't do city-smashing, it's too mainstream. To befriend him, get an interest or ability that he hasn't seen before and he'll gladly help you out; otherwise, just stay out of his way and you'll be fine.

Whew, well that was fun. I'll remember to find a place for him in KK, but for now, I hope you enjoy this beastie and his history as much as I did making them.